by Janey Fraser
There was the sound of someone heavy coming down the stairs. ‘Jee-lee, Jee-lee.’
David rolled his eyes.
‘Yes, Fatima, what is it?’
Fatima’s eyes were round with terror as she clutched her stomach. ‘Tuvaletler nerededir.’
‘What does she mean?’
Alfie who’d wandered out on to the landing, sleepily clutching his PSP, piped up. ‘She needs the loo, Mum. Quick!’
JILLY’S AU PAIR AGENCY: GUIDELINES FOR FAMILIES
An au pair probably won’t be used to the same customs or courtesies that we have in this country. This can lead to confusion! Here are some examples you might like to explain to your au pair:
Queuing
Morris men
Making toad in the hole
Apologising when things aren’t our fault
The tooth fairy
Discussing the weather at every opportunity
Sunbathing on a cold, wet, windy beach in summer
Chapter 26
WHEN MARIE-FRANCE HAD spotted Thierry in that Soho bar, she’d thought she must have got it wrong. The tall, handsome, slightly arrogant-looking man with the hawk nose and floppy fringe, serving drinks to a crowd of besotted teenage girls who appeared to be hanging on his every word, simply looked like her boyfriend. It couldn’t possibly be him.
Thierry was travelling across Europe on his motorbike. Her mother had told her that quite clearly. But when this look alike at the bar had caught her eye, he’d given a definite start of recognition. His face had grown cold and he’d turned away, leaving her to catch her breath and feel both sick and excited at the same time.
‘What are you doing here?’ she had tried to say above the noise of the bar around her but he had given her another cold stare.
‘What is it to you?’ he’d growled in English before turning away to serve more customers. She’d had to wait ages, watching his big hands – more used to tuning motorbikes – handle bottles and glasses with incredible ease.
‘Can I help you?’ asked someone else who was serving. Marie-France took in a petite brunette with a see-through white T-shirt.
‘It’s all right, thanks. I am waiting for Thierry.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Join the queue.’
So she had continued to stand there, feeling like an idiot, watching the two of them serve drinks to the crowd. Twice, she saw Thierry reach out and pat the girl’s bottom as they dived in and out of the space under the bar or reached up for another glass. Were they together or was he putting on an act because he knew she was watching?
‘What does a girl have to do to get a drink round here?’ she called out eventually.
‘Thierry!’ called out someone else. ‘You’ve got a fellow compatriot over there, judging from that sexy accent! Better not keep her waiting.’
Frowning, he turned to her. ‘What is it that you want?’ he growled again, this time in French.
‘To explain.’ She spoke rapidly, afraid he would turn away before she could make it clear to him. ‘The boy in my family – Tom – he tore up the photograph of us. I was upset about it. You have to believe me.’
‘I know what I see with my own eyes.’ His lip curled in the way it did when he was angry or making love or both. ‘I see also that the old Englishman watches you and that you are flattered.’
Phillip? ‘No.’ She flushed. ‘You’ve got it wrong. There is nothing in it.’
‘That is not what your friend Antoinette tells me.’
‘Antoinette? What’s she got to do with it?’
‘She is a Facebook friend of Joel’s nephew in the garage at home. She tells me you have been sacked for having an affair with the old man.’
‘No. No that’s not true.’ Marie-France felt a flush of anger. What a bitch!
He spread his hands out. ‘I do not care. Instead, I am having fun in London just like you.’
With that, he turned, taking care to sweep his hand lightly across the barmaid’s bottom, making her giggle.
‘You’re making one big mistake,’ spat Marie-France. Then, head held high, she stormed out of the pub. Just wait until she got hold of Antoinette. She’d kill her.
But to her fury, Antoinette wasn’t in class that week. Off sick because it was ‘the wrong time of the month’ apparently. Hah! More importantly, she’d heard nothing from Thierry. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to call him.
Then, totally out of the blue, Phillip had turned up with some sheets of guitar music she’d left behind. When she’d opened the door, she’d been so surprised that all her resolutions to ignore him flew out of the window.
‘I am so sorry about Dawn,’ he had said, taking her hands in his. ‘She can be very jealous, I’m afraid, and she’s really upset about the burglary.’ He hesitated. ‘On that point, the police have been in touch. They wanted to talk to you again about what happened so I gave them this address. I hope that’s all right.’
‘Of course.’ She nodded, wondering whether she should remove her hand from his. It felt so warm and comforting yet it did not seem right, not with little Lottie in the other room. ‘Do remember what we agreed, won’t you?’ he said quietly. ‘It would be best, for your sake, if you did not say that you let the burglars in.’
‘For my sake?’ she repeated.
Phillip gave her hands a squeeze. ‘The laws in this country are very different. You could be sent to prison for doing what you did.’
Prison? She was confused. ‘But before, you say that would not happen!’
Phillip’s hands gave hers one more squeeze. ‘I’ve been looking into it and I think I may have been wrong. But do not worry. As long as you do what I say, I will protect you.’ Then he reached across as though to give her a kiss on the side of her cheek but just as he did so, there was the sound of a car outside.
She froze. ‘It is my family, Matthew.’
He had drawn away then and put on the dark sunglasses which he’d been wearing when he’d arrived. ‘I must go. But please. Remember what we discussed.’
‘Who was that man?’ Matthew had asked.
‘My old boss,’ she’d replied quickly. ‘He came to drop something off that I had left behind.’
Best not to mention the police, she told herself. With any luck, they would come when Matthew was out.
Meanwhile, her mission to keep one step ahead of little Lottie was going rather well!
‘Guess what I find in my bed last night?’ she said to Lottie one morning when she was getting her ready for school.
‘What?’ Lottie’s eyes were round and innocent.
‘A real live slug from the garden.’
‘Ugh! That’s horrible.’ Lottie made a face. ‘Didn’t you want to scream?’
‘No. I adore slugs. So I place it back into the garden again.’
The disappointment on Lottie’s face was so sweet that it was all she could do not to laugh out loud.
On another occasion, she found a silver chain hidden in her underwear drawer. ‘Lottie,’ she asked when she collected her from school that day. ‘Look what I find. This is yours, yes?’
Lottie nodded disappointedly.
‘Good thing I discover it. Yes? Or your father might think I steal it!’
Not long after that, she found Lottie in the bathroom, pouring something into her bottle of shower gel. ‘Vinegar! How kind of you, Lottie! In France, we often add vinegar to our baths to make them smell nice.’
Meanwhile, she continued trawling the internet for more find-a-person sites but as usual, they required vital information like a date of birth. Information that she just didn’t have.
Her own sense of loss made her empathise with poor Matthew and also Lottie, whom she was really learning to love like a little sister. One way of keeping her happy was to teach her to cook!
‘Look, Daddy, we’ve made you a proper French meal,’ she called out delightedly to her father when he got back one evening. ‘It has lots of garlics.’
‘Garlic,’ corr
ected Matthew, smiling.
‘That’s what I said. Marie-France says that the French eat snails but we didn’t put any in this time.’
They all laughed and, for the first time since she’d arrived, Marie-France felt as though she was part of a proper family. Just look how they were all tucking in to her special recipe! Little did they know that her sauce had cheese in it but Lottie was wolfing it down. So good for her!
The following day, after school, she got out her guitar. ‘You would like to learn some chords, yes?’
Lottie’s eyes shone. ‘Mummy used to play the piano when she was a little girl.’
Marie-France’s heart skipped slightly with compassion.
‘She’s going to give me lessons when I am older.’ The little girl’s eyes held hers steadily. ‘She’s still alive, you know. Daddy thinks she’s dead but I know she’ll come back one day. Maybe she’s just playing with her friend.’
Marie-France frowned. ‘I do not understand.’
Lottie flushed. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. Mummy said it had to be our secret when her friend came round to play upstairs in her bedroom.’
Mon Dieu! So Matthew’s wife had had a lover! ‘You must miss your mummy very much,’ she said quietly.
Lottie nodded, her eyes filling with tears.
‘I miss my daddy,’ said Marie-France without meaning to. ‘He went away too and I am trying to find him.’
‘Really?’ Lottie took her hand in his. ‘Maybe he’s gone to meet my mummy.’ Her face brightened. ‘I know. Let’s look for them together!’
Marie-France swallowed the big lump in her throat. ‘It’s a deal.’ Laughingly, they did a high five with little Lottie’s small palm reaching up for hers. ‘But you are to promise me something! You must cease playing little tricks on me. Otherwise your daddy might send me away and then we won’t be able to help each other.’
Lottie frowned as though considering this proposition. ‘OK. Now can we play the guitar again? Please.’
Marie-France decided not to mention this conversation to Matthew. If Lottie wanted to believe her mother was still alive, what was wrong with that? As for the ‘friend’, that was definitely better left unsaid. It would devastate the poor man if he knew his dead wife had had a lover.
Meanwhile, she’d got over her cool period with Heidi and sometimes they went to one of the local pubs in the evening. One night, she spotted a dark blowsy girl, propped up against the bar, talking to a man who was old enough to be her grandfather. Antoinette! At last. She hadn’t been coming to the class recently and Marie-France was convinced it was because she was avoiding her.
‘I want to talk to you,’ she snarled in French, grabbing the girl’s jacket and forcing her to turn round at the bar. ‘What do you mean by Facebooking my boyfriend and telling him I had an affair with Phillip?’
Antoinette’s eyes gleamed with hatred. ‘Well you did, didn’t you?’
‘No. I didn’t.’ Marie-France flew at her again but Antoinette pushed her hard – bruising her bosom – so she fell back into a group of men. ‘I am so sorry.’
‘Any time, love. Having a fight with your mate, are you?’ He grinned. ‘We love a girl fight, don’t we, boys, especially if it’s with a French accent.’
She straightened herself but Antoinette, the coward, had already run away. ‘Oy,’ called out the bartender. ‘Put a stop to that right now or I’ll call the police.’
‘Marie-France, let us go, ja?’ Heidi shuffled from one heel to the other worriedly.
‘Not so fast!’ It was one of the men at the table that Marie-France had fallen into. ‘Let’s buy you a drink first. My name’s John, by the way.’ He grinned. ‘John Smith.’
‘Nein, thanks,’ began Heidi but Marie-France stared at the man. Could this be Papa? He had a similar nose to hers – although a bit larger – and he kept blowing it on a large spotted maroon handkerchief.
‘Plis.’ She hesitated, flushing. ‘Can you tell me. I am trying to find a friend of my mother’s who lives here nineteen years ago. His name was John Smith too.’
‘Was it now? To tell you the truth, love, I only moved here this week from Dublin but I can fiddle a few facts if you let me buy you a drink.’
He moved towards her, slipping his arm around her waist.
‘How dare you!’ Quickly, as Thierry had taught her, she bent his arm in a judo tackle.
‘Oy. That hurts!’
‘Serve you right!’
‘Quick,’ hissed Heidi. ‘Let’s go. Ja?’ Hand in hand, they flew down the road towards Matthew’s house. Mon Dieu! There was a police car outside!
‘Scheisse,’ whispered Heidi, appalled. ‘That barman has found us already! You want me to come in with you?’
‘No point in both of us getting into trouble. Besides, I’m the one at fault.’ Marie-France knew she sounded braver than she felt. Unlocking the front door, she steeled herself.
‘There you are!’ Matthew’s face was creased with disappointment. Anger she could have dealt with but not that cold look. ‘The police are here to see you. It’s about the burglary at your previous employer’s. They’re in the sitting room. Lottie is in bed, thank goodness. Otherwise this would be very unsettling for her.’
Trying not to tremble, she made herself walk into the room. A man and a woman in police uniform were waiting. Neither was smiling. ‘Marie-France Dubonne? New information has come to light over the burglary at Mrs Green’s house. In your statement at the time, you claimed you didn’t know how the burglars got in.’
Marie-France willed herself not to flush. ‘That is correct.’
‘The problem is, Mademoiselle Dubonne, that the insurance company has uncovered further evidence.’
Marie-France began to sweat.
‘It looks as though someone might have let them in.’
Do not tell the police, Phillip had said.
Merde! What should she do now?
‘Marie-France,’ said the policeman, using her first name in an over-familiar fashion as though he was trying to befriend her like those horrible men in the pub just now. ‘Marie-France, in this country, you could go to prison for not telling the truth.’
Mon Dieu! God knows what a British prison might be like! A picture of jail bars and a bowl of water came into her head.
She felt herself getting even redder. ‘It is not my fault. I thought the man was my father, so I allow him in, but Mr Green, he tell me not to say this.’
The policewoman’s mouth tightened. ‘We will need you to come down to the station and make a fresh statement.’ As she spoke, there was a sound from the walkie-talkie thing around her neck. ‘A disturbance at the pub?’ she repeated. ‘Involving two French girls, one with long dark hair?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘I might have a lead on that one.’
Marie-France began to tremble. ‘I can explain.’
Together they went out into the hall where Matthew was waiting. ‘I have to go with them. But it is not my fault. I need you to call Dawn and Phillip and inform them that I have to tell the truth. They will understand what I mean. OK?’
JILLY’S AU PAIR AGENCY: GUIDELINES FOR FAMILIES
Make sure that your new au pair knows your address and telephone number off by heart so she doesn’t get lost when she goes out! Emergency numbers are different in each country. Please explain our 999 system.
Chapter 27
AFTER MARIE-FRANCE LEFT, Matthew ran his hand through his hair in despair and confusion. Just when he’d thought he’d found the perfect au pair, she’d been arrested! Or as good as.
She’d implored him to ring Phillip as she was being led away, and explain she had to tell the truth.
Tell the truth? What did she mean? So he’d got Dawn’s number from Paula.
‘Er, my name is Matthew Evans. This is a bit awkward, I’m afraid. I’ve got your old au pair and—’
‘The bitch who tried to make out with my husband?’
Matthew was taken aback. Jilly had told him that Marie-France h
ad had a ‘clash of personality’ with her old bosses. Then he recalled Phillip leaving his house the other day. Marie-France had claimed he was ‘dropping something off’. Was there something more to this?
‘I didn’t know …’
‘Well, you should have done. If you don’t believe me, ask my husband. He’ll tell you how she came on to him. Phillip! Phone for you.’
Matthew was beginning to feel even more uneasy.
‘Hi.’ Phillip sounded guarded. ‘My wife says you want to talk to me about Marie-France. Is everything all right?’
‘Not really. The police have taken her away for questioning over your burglary. She asked me to ring and say she had to tell them the truth. What did she mean by that exactly?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ His voice was sharp. ‘But I do have to warn you that Marie-France is a fantasist! She makes up stories. She seems like a very pleasant girl but she’s not what she seems.’ He lowered his voice. ‘It’s not the first time she’s been involved with the police, I’m afraid. There was some confusion over a shoplifting episode with the other au pairs. She said it was another girl so they let her go.’
Matthew groaned. Talk about appearances being deceptive! And to think he’d been telling Karen how fantastic Marie-France was, with her cheery open manner and kind way with Lottie.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Phillip sympathetically.
‘Not sure. But I expect the police will pay you a visit if they need anything else.’
‘Why would they do that?’ The man sounded edgy.
Matthew hesitated. ‘Well, I couldn’t help overhearing them when they were talking to Marie-France. They seem to think there is a problem over your insurance claim for the burglary.’
‘What’s he talking about, Phillip?’ A squeaky woman’s voice cut in on the extension.
‘No idea. Look, thanks, Matt.’
It’s Matthew to you, mate, he wanted to say. But Phillip had already put down the phone. Something wasn’t right! The man had sounded distinctly uneasy and, besides, he hadn’t liked that shifty way he’d put on his sunglasses when they’d met at the gate the other week.