The Au Pair

by Janey Fraser

  Dear Jilly,

  Thank you so much for finding Martine for us. She has been a delightful au pair and we are thrilled with the service you provided. I will make sure that I spread the word about your wonderful agency.

  Yours,

  Mrs Gladman

  Chapter 25

  ‘YOU’RE PLANNING TO do what?’ repeated Jilly.

  ‘I told you,’ her father replied in a voice that suggested he was extremely pleased with himself. ‘I’m planning a surprise wedding anniversary party for your mother. That’s why I encouraged her to come and stay with you, so I could get it all sorted. Well, that and have a bit of time to ourselves. It was a bit claustrophobic being together on the boat for all that time.’

  There was a brief clink of a bottle at the other end as well as some jazz music in the background, indicating that he was making the most of her absence. Mum loathed jazz.

  ‘You encouraged her to come and stay here?’ repeated Jilly, checking that the kitchen door was shut. ‘She told me it was the other way round.’

  Dad guffawed. ‘Well, you know what your mother is like. She always has to make out that she has the upper hand.’

  That was true. ‘But she thinks you’re having an affair!’

  ‘Ridiculous.’ Her father gave a deep throaty chuckle. She could just picture him now. Dad was a bit of a Des O’Connor lookalike; he favoured navy-blue jackets and open-necked shirts, suggesting he was just of to an informal lunch at the golf club. His honey-coloured hair (tinted every now and then to hide the grey) would be impeccably smoothed back with a side parting. A real ladies’ man who, despite everything, had remained married to her mother for nearly forty years.

  ‘I’m very flattered but just because I’ve asked one of our oldest friends, Angela, to help out, doesn’t mean there’s anything going on. You know me, darling.’

  ‘Angela? But Mum hasn’t seen her for years.’

  ‘Precisely. Far too easy to lose touch, don’t you think? The party will be a good opportunity to get together. Anyway, I promise I’m behaving myself so don’t worry about me.’

  How could she not? He’d be lolling on the sofa, gin and tonic in hand. The Daily Telegraph would be open at the crossword page on the coffee table and Angela, who’d been widowed years ago, would be passing him a bowl of nibbles, possibly hoping for something more.

  ‘Mum’s really upset, you know.’ She glanced again at the kitchen door, which might open at any minute. ‘I think you ought to come clean about the party.’

  ‘Nonsense. Now listen, darling. It’s all planned for next month. We’re going to have a marquee in the garden and the caterers are making your mother’s favourite. Salmon en croûte.’

  ‘But she’s allergic to fish, Dad!’

  ‘Ah. Silly me. Anyway, there’s a meaty option. So whatever you do, make sure you keep her up with you until the party and then bring her down with the kids and Dick.’

  ‘It’s David, Dad. Not Dick.’

  Jilly felt a wave of alarm. Dad was normally on the ball: how could he get his son-in-law’s name wrong or forget his wife couldn’t eat fish? She’d ended the conversation feeling extremely uncomfortable and wondering whether to tell Mum. But if she did, she’d ruin the surprise.

  ‘What do you think I ought to do?’ she asked David that night.

  He turned over from her in bed. ‘I could tell you what I think but you wouldn’t pay any attention. You never do any more.’

  ‘That’s not fair.’ Her words rang out in the dark. Why was it that conversations like this always sounded so chilling and scary when it was night?

  ‘Take a good look at yourself, Jilly. Running a business has made you tough like your mother. It’s all you care about.’

  ‘That’s not true. I’m worried about Dad.’

  ‘But what about the rest of us? Look, Jilly, forget I said anything. I’m going to sleep because in the morning, I’ve got to get up at some ridiculous time and go into an office and do a proper job. Goodnight.’

  A week later, they still hadn’t really made up. Then, while she was visiting a prospective host family, Paula left a message.

  ‘She wants you to come round for a coffee,’ reported Mum. ‘Friends just don’t understand, do they? They assume that when you’re self-employed you can take time off whenever you want.’

  Paula had rung? That was a turn-up for the books! Her so-called friend hadn’t been returning her calls for ages.

  ‘What did she sound like?’

  ‘A bit quiet, to be honest. She said she needed to see you.’ Her mother gave her a sharp look. ‘Have you two fallen out?’

  ‘She’s being strange at the moment.’ Jilly stopped, feeling awkward. It made her feel like a little girl at school, complaining about being left out.

  Her mother gave her a surprisingly sympathetic glance. ‘Probably jealous that you’re working. I lost a few of my friends that way. I wouldn’t worry about it. Oh and by the way, Heidi has rung in again, complaining that her host father is still walking round naked. We need to talk to Mr Banks first – no point in rocking the marital boat – and then if it continues, have a word with the wife. Make a note too, can you, that we will only place ugly au pairs with that family again.’

  ‘Jee-lee. I am hungry.’

  Not again! This baby was going to be huge! Jilly pulled out a chair for Fatima to plonk herself down on. She was wearing another of her enormous brown shift dresses which made up an entire load in the washing machine. She began to rub her ankles.

  ‘Why don’t you take Bruno out for a walk?’ suggested Sheila tartly. ‘It might do you good to have some exercise.’

  Fatima eyed her reproachfully. ‘But my legs! They hurt. And I am busy adding up your accounts.’

  ‘I’ll walk Bruno,’ said Nick, who’d sauntered in, taken a piece of cheese out of the fridge, bitten into it and then put the rest back like a plaster impression at the dentist.

  ‘Wonderful, darling,’ said her mother before Jilly could tell Nick off. ‘In fact, you get on so well with Bruno that I was thinking of leaving him with you permanently.’

  ‘Mum!’ How could she? They hadn’t even discussed this!

  ‘Cool, Gran.’ Nick was tickling the dog’s tummy as he rolled over, leaving a trail of black hairs on the carpet.

  ‘Your grandfather claims he’s allergic to dogs although I think it’s because he can’t be bothered to walk him. Only wanted Bruno as an excuse to walk round and visit his lady friends.’

  Enough was enough! ‘Mum,’ she began, ‘much as we love having you here, Dad wants you to come back for something … something he’s got planned for you.’

  ‘Hah! I suppose he’s organising a surprise anniversary party, is he? Well, he can forget that. I have no plans to leave here.’

  Jilly didn’t pursue the conversation. When her mother sounded like that, there was no point in trying to make her change her mind.

  ‘I’m doing some networking after I drop off the boys,’ announced Jilly the next day when she was trying to round up the twins for school. For God’s sake, where was Harry’s left shoe? And why was Alfie’s maths homework in the vegetable rack?

  ‘Networking?’ Her mother was smearing natural yoghurt on her face straight from Fatima’s tub in the fridge. ‘I suppose you mean coffee with Paula. Well, don’t be long, we’ve got work to do, like …’

  The last part of the sentence was drowned by the noise of a stampede down the stairs.

  ‘Mum, he’s nicked my mouth guard.’

  ‘It’s mine, you idiot.’

  ‘Well, I’ve spat in it so now it’s mine.’

  ‘Boys! Boys! Fight all you like over that mouth guard but you should know that it’s been sharing a mug with my false teeth in the bathroom. Looked like it needed a good clean.’

  ‘Gran, that’s gross!’

  ‘Precisely. Nick, are you walking Bruno again? You are a good boy. No, not you Bruno. Nick. Oh, and Jilly, if we’re not in when you’re back, it’s beca
use I’ve taken Fatima to her antenatal appointment.’

  For someone who was so anti au pairs, her mother was surprisingly sympathetic towards Fatima, especially after her history had come out. It proved Mum had a heart after all! Meanwhile, as she rang Paula’s doorbell, she felt nervous. Why did her friend want to see her? Was it to make up or tell her about some nasty piece of gossip? Someone else complaining about her agency?

  Paula’s unsmiling face at the door did nothing to allay her fears. Nor did the glass of wine in her hand. Paula had always liked her drink but in the last few months she seemed to be doing more of it than usual. ‘Come on in.’

  What was going on?

  ‘Do sit down.’

  Paula was speaking as though she hadn’t been here before. Hadn’t been in and out of this house so many times that it was almost her own. Perching on the end of her friend’s cream sofa – the one that the kids weren’t meant to sit on – she took a deep breath. ‘What’s wrong, Paula? Have I done something to upset you?’

  To her surprise, Paula’s face crumpled. ‘Yes. No. Well, you and Nigel together.’

  ‘Me and Nigel?’

  ‘You’re denying it then?’

  ‘Denying what?’

  ‘You’re not having a thing together?’

  ‘Are you crazy?’

  Paula searched her face as though seeking the truth and then gave a little sigh, flopping back on the sofa. ‘Sure?’

  ‘Quite sure! First, I wouldn’t look at anyone apart from David. And second – don’t take this the wrong way – but Nigel simply isn’t my type!’

  Paula studied Jilly’s face again and then nodded. ‘OK. I believe you.’

  Jilly leaned forward. ‘Do you want to explain what this is all about?’

  There was a small sigh. ‘You know I told you ages ago that we weren’t … well … doing much in the bedroom.’

  Jilly’s mind went back to the time before she’d started the agency. That was it. Something about Paula talking about a no-sex survey in the Mail and how she and Nigel were part of the statistics.

  ‘Well, I had it out with him the other month.’

  Jilly gasped. ‘He’s not having an affair?’

  ‘He says he isn’t.’ Paula was pulling out a tissue from her sleeve. ‘But he did say that I was getting boring.’

  Jilly moved over and put an arm around her friend’s shoulder. ‘Boring? That’s horrid.’

  ‘I know. He said I ought to take a leaf out of your book and do something. Then I’d have something else to talk about instead of just children and the gym.’

  ‘That’s unfair.’

  ‘But you can see why I got jealous of you. Nigel keeps saying how wonderful you are.’ Her eyes glittered with envy. ‘Jilly this and Jilly that.’ She gave her a hard look. ‘I know it sounds crazy but I began to wonder if you were having an affair with him.’

  Smarmy Nigel? Ugh! Besides, even if he was the last man left in Corrywood, he was still her friend’s husband. ‘How could you even think that?’

  But she didn’t seem to be listening. ‘And I even felt pleased when you messed up about double-booking that au pair!’ Paula’s eyes refused to meet hers.

  That wasn’t very nice. But at the same time, Jilly could sort of see why. ‘Have you thought, perhaps,’ she said carefully, ‘of going back to work when Immy goes to school?’

  Paula shook her head. ‘What? I dropped out of uni – I’ve never told you before because I was too ashamed. And I’m not qualified for anything. Not even motherhood.’ She lowered her voice. ‘To be honest, I even find the children boring. All that answering stupid questions and having to explain why you shouldn’t run across the road or why you have to do your homework. It does my head in.’

  ‘It’s not easy,’ conceded Jilly.

  ‘That’s why I’m always out at all those classes.’ Paula smiled wanly. ‘And I’m drinking more. Probably too much. But it takes me away from all this. Blocks out the feeling that I’m a failure.’

  ‘You’re not a failure!’ Shocked, Jilly gave her friend a warm hug. ‘If it makes you feel any better, my business is causing a real strain on my marriage. David says I’m a different person.’

  ‘You are!’ Envy filled Paula’s eyes again. ‘But in a good way. You’re more confident. You’ve got lots of funny stories to tell.’

  Jilly thought of the shoplifting scene which Marie-France had described to her in great detail. ‘Some aren’t so funny actually.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got a bloom about you.’

  Had she? ‘I do like what I’m doing,’ admitted Jilly. ‘It’s given me a sense of purpose.’

  ‘Exactly. And that’s what I want.’

  Jilly gave her friend another hug. ‘You’ll find it. But maybe now’s not the right time. If only men understood how hard it is for mothers to do everything.’

  ‘Some men do,’ pointed out Paula. ‘Maybe I should have married someone else.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  Paula stood up and looked through the window. ‘Look, I don’t want to talk about it any more. But thanks for listening. And I’m sorry I’ve been a bit of a bitch. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ But inside, Jilly still felt hurt that Paula thought she might be having an affair with Nigel. ‘Look, I’d better be going. Mum will accuse me of skiving if I don’t get back and Nick’s got a day off school to finish some coursework so I want to keep tabs on him.’

  They hugged each other goodbye, promising to meet up soon, and then Jilly took the short cut through the park. Hang on. Wasn’t that Bruno steaming towards her, his lead trailing behind him?

  ‘Hello, boy. What’s going on?’

  Where on earth was Nick? Looking around, she heard a giggle from some bushes not far away. Striding towards them, she caught a glimpse of two boys and a sultry, dark-haired girl. The latter was hastily putting on a pink glossy coat but not before Jilly had spotted a flash of naked flesh underneath.

  ‘Antoinette? Nick?’

  ‘Mum!’ Her son’s terrified eyes looked back at her. ‘I wasn’t doing anything.’ He scrambled to his feet, brushing dead leaves from his hoody. ‘It was nothing.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ Jilly caught Antoinette by the wrists as she tried to run off. ‘What exactly is going on?’

  The girl drew herself up like a wild animal about to enter the fray. ‘Your boys, they say they pay me. It was their idea.’

  ‘Pay you?’ Jilly’s blood ran cold.

  The girl curled her lip. ‘We do not do much. They are young and extra eager.’

  Jilly felt sick. ‘Go home, Antoinette. I don’t want to see you. As for you, Nick, how could you?’

  Her son hung his head. Clearly he was racked with embarrassment. Oh God! If she went mad, she might put him off sex for life as her mother had warned before, or he might even run away like an old school-friend of hers did when her parents caught her in bed with a boyfriend. She’d have to play this carefully.

  ‘I think you’d better go home, Nick. We’ll talk about this later when Dad’s back.’

  She turned to the other boy, now stumbling out from the bush looking defiant rather than awkward. He looked rather rough with a spiky haircut and filthy hoody and she didn’t recognise him as one of her son’s usual crowd. ‘Haven’t you got school to go to?’

  There was a dismissive shrug. ‘I’ve left, haven’t I?’

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Sixteen.’

  Sixteen! Still a child, almost. Why hadn’t she known this was going on? Because she was working. That was why …

  Her mother’s lips had tightened when, on getting back, Jilly told her what had happened. ‘Those girls are vixens. I told you, Jilly. Only after one thing. Well, two. Freedom and extortion.’

  ‘That’s a bit hard!’

  ‘Is it? Supposing your Nick got her pregnant? She’d want money. Trust me on that one. And that would be just the beginning.’

  Fatima, who was sitt
ing so quietly in the sitting room that Jilly had forgotten she was there, shook her head. ‘It isn’t always the girl’s fault,’ she said pointing to her stomach, which rippled in agreement at exactly that moment like a giant whale.

  Her mother took a slug of Bombay Sapphire. ‘Very true, dear, but some of your au pair compatriots are knowing little hussies like Antoinette. Of course you can’t tell Paula or word will get out.’

  Jilly bit her lip. ‘I’ll see what David says.’

  ‘Ha! Fat lot of good that will do.’

  Fatima nodded. Since living here, her English had improved no end although her understanding seemed better than her speaking. She’d also been teaching the children some Turkish phrases, much to their amusement.

  ‘Your mother is right. I think Jee-lee needs new husband. A nicer one. I ask my cousin to find her one in Turkey.’

  ‘Good idea, dear! And while you’re at it, find me one too, can you?’

  That evening, Jilly waited up for David. It was nearly eleven o’clock when she finally heard the key in the lock.

  He threw a large brown envelope on to the table, looking flushed and excited. ‘It’s a job contract. I didn’t want to tell you until it was certain but now it’s sewn up after weeks of interview rounds and negotiations. That’s why I’ve been working late and – I’m sorry – been a bit tetchy.’ David pulled her towards him. ‘The best news is that the money is twice what I earned before. So you won’t need to work any more!’

  Not work any more? ‘I can’t jack it all in just like that!’

  His face frowned. ‘But you’re always stressed and complaining.’

  ‘That’s part of it. But I also get real satisfaction out of doing something.’

  ‘At the expense of the children? They need a mother who’s around more, Jilly, not someone who runs a half-baked business from the kitchen table with her senile mother.’

  How dare he? ‘She’s not senile, just a bit forgetful. And my agency is making money now! Don’t be so bloody old-fashioned. I thought you were the kind of man who’d be pleased I’d finally found a job I loved!’

  ‘And I thought you’d be pleased that I’ve turned my career round again!’ David picked up his contract with a dramatic flourish. ‘If you want to carry on, that’s up to you. But I don’t think that two people working crazy hours is fair on our children. Do you?’