Secret Nanny Club

by Mackle, Marisa

  “Where did you get it?” I asked. I knew the price of Chanel bags and I couldn’t get my head around how Tanya would be able to afford one.

  “It was a present . . . from a friend,” she said, looking at John, not me. “Do you really like it?”

  “Yes, I love it. It is a dream of mine to own a Chanel bag one day. But that day seems very far away right now, unfortunately. And this is one of the nicer ones. It’s like a work of art.”

  Tanya sat John up on her knee and burped him. “Good boy,” she cooed. Then she looked up at me and smiled. “You can borrow it sometime if you like.”

  “Thanks, that’s very kind of you. I think I would be afraid to borrow it though just in case something happened to it.”

  “I would trust you,” said Tanya. “Hey, you trust me with your baby and you have to admit he is a lot more precious than a handbag!”

  “Well, when you put it like that,” I said, switching off the kettle.

  I decided I’d have a strong black coffee before catching the train to work. I couldn’t eat breakfast. I was feeling too anxious. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. According to the emails Sally had been sending me via Facebook, tensions were high in the office and everybody was living on their nerves and, on top of that, while working in a magazine is usually considered to be a glamorous job, now the PR companies didn’t send in half

  as many freebies as they used to.

  I’ll never forget my first ever Christmas working in the magazine. It was as though Santa was there every day, delivering goodies such as perfume, make-up, hair straighteners, anti-cellulite creams, funky jewellery pieces, cases of champagne, boxes of chocolates. The editor would tell the staff to take their pick after she had helped herself and could stuff no more freebies into the boot of her Audi. None of us had even needed to go Christmas shopping over the last few years thanks to all the free gifts we received. Now, according to Sally, the editor just kept all the goodies in her office, and only parted with the cheap rubbishy stuff that wasn’t even worth selling on eBay. The recession had brought the whole office back down to earth with an almighty thud. I had initially thought I’d be perfectly fine leaving John at home while I re-entered the working world. I had actually been counting the days until I was due to go back to work, so nothing could have surprised me more than the tears that escaped down my cheeks after I had left John in the capable arms of Tanya and waved him goodbye. Even as I sat on the train as it sped towards Dublin and looked out at the choppy sea, I was glad I was wearing dark glasses and that I had plenty of tissues to hand. I couldn’t quite explain my immense sadness. After all, I had left Baby John with my mother on quite a few occasions when I was exhausted and needed a respite from my sleep deprivation. I hadn’t felt sad then. No, I had just crawled into my own bed, thoroughly

  grateful, and relished my night’s interrupted sleep.

  But this seemed different somehow. Going to work made me feel like I was abandoning him. I kept picturing his gentle smiling face as I walked out the door with my umbrella and briefcase under my arm. I felt bad that I was going to be away from him for an entire day but it was comforting to know I was leaving my baby in good hands. And I would still be at home with him for most of the week.

  Arriving at the office, I took the lift up to the fourth floor. I checked my appearance in the mirror and was less than pleased by what I saw looking back at me. I had applied my make-up a lot more heavily than usual to try and make myself look presentable. I wanted to hide the shadows under my eyes. Although Tanya was wonderful and helped me any way she could, it was me who had to tend to John when he woke up crying in the night. Last night he had woken up twice and needed to be comforted by his mummy, so I was tired. The pale green suit that I had bought discounted in the July sales was more than a little tight on me too. Right, that’s it, I told myself sternly. The diet starts today. I don’t care how hard it is. If I don’t shed these unwanted pounds, nobody else is going to do it for me.

  Tina, the receptionist, buzzed me in when she saw me through the glass doors. “You look great . . . for somebody who’s had a baby.”

  “Thanks,” I said, looking around me with interest. Something had changed but I couldn’t quite figure out what.

  “They painted the walls cream,” Tina chirped as though reading my mind. “Oh, and they’ve removed the water cooler in case you were wondering.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Cutbacks,” she said with a sigh as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Soon they’ll be removing the loo paper from the Ladies’.”

  I smiled in spite of myself. Tina was a terrible moaner. Even in the good times she’d always had plenty to find fault with: the couriers were incompetent, the photocopier was dodgy, the place was too cold, too hot, callers on the phone were too rude and didn’t speak slowly enough. I wondered how she had stayed so long in a place that was so truly awful.

  “Is Sally in the office?”

  “No, she’s not actually – she was in earlier but she’s gone to a function with Creea. Some champagne breakfast thing to launch a new collection. It’s well for them, isn’t it?” she added resentfully.

  I knew better than to agree. The walls in that place had ears.

  “Well, not to worry, I’ll see them later,” I said cheerfully, determined that Tina wouldn’t see any disappointment in my face.

  The truth was that I was surprised nobody was there to greet me and everybody seemed to have deserted the office knowing that I was coming back after a significant absence. Okay, I wasn’t naïve enough to think that there would be balloons everywhere and that the staff were going to be gathered around to burst into song at the sight of me, but this non-welcome pretty much hammered home just how insignificant I had become at the magazine.

  “I’ll just go on through to my desk,” I informed Tina. She didn’t answer and had her eyes glued to the screen in front of her. She was probably on the website www.myhome.ie. Sally had told me that ever since Tina moved in with her new boyfriend she was obsessed with buying a new place with him, and kept annoying everyone in the office by saying that property was falling at such a fast rate. A couple of years ago she wouldn’t have been able to afford anything in Dublin, but now that property prices had dramatically fallen she thought she had a good chance of purchasing a bargain. She was prepared to wait until they hit rock bottom.

  With a slightly heavy heart, I pushed open the doors of the open-plan office. I was about to go over to the desk in the far corner which had always been mine but it was occupied. A girl with long red hair and a floaty white cotton dress was sitting there with her back to me, chatting on the phone. There was nobody else in the office. I waited patiently for her to finish her call and then I cleared my throat.

  She swung around and looked surprised to see me standing there. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Kaylah, I presume?”

  She wasn’t so much friendly as polite. Even from the door she looked polished with nice make-up and nails. I also saw from the red soles on her heels that her shoes were Christian Louboutin.

  “That’s my desk,” I said, and then nearly kicked myself for being so blunt.

  The girl, whose name I later found out was Louise, raised a surprised eyebrow.

  “Sorry, I meant that was my desk before I left to have my baby,” I added, feeling flustered. “I’m not sure where my new desk is.”

  Louise was calm and collected as though she was a nurse dealing with a stressed-out patient. “Oh yes,” she said, “you are completely right. Creea gave me your desk while

  you were absent. I am an intern here so I wouldn’t expect my own desk. But, as you are working part-time and don’t need a desk really, Creea has suggested we share this desk

  and the computer. I’m sure that’s all right with you?”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. What? I didn’t even have my own computer? How insulting! This was terrible. Surely things weren’t so tight in the office that I couldn’t have my own computer! It was
unthinkable that I’d have to share my desk with a lowly intern. I cleared my throat. “I’ll have to discuss this with Creea when she comes back,” I said, feeling hot under the collar. “As a stylist I need a desk with plenty of space to put all my bags on it. I can’t even imagine sharing. There must be some sort of mix-up.”

  Even as I spoke I knew I sounded foolish. This was humiliating to say the least. I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with a girl who, although groomed to perfection, looked like she couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old.

  “I totally understand,” Louise answered. Her lips were smiling but her eyes weren’t. “I hope you don’t mind but I have a couple of urgent emails to send, so please excuse me.”

  With that she turned her back and left me hovering like a spare tool. I stood awkwardly in the doorway feeling as though I’d been treated like an unwanted smell. I didn’t know what to do now. I couldn’t just plonk my briefcase on top of somebody else’s desk. Feeling hot and bothered, I decided to go back out to the reception area to get a glass of water to cool down. It was only when I got there I remembered that the cooler had been removed for economic reasons.

  “Do they still have free tea and coffee in the kitchen?” I asked Tina who was now busy painting her nails a hot pink colour.

  “Yes, but it’s nasty stuff. They changed the brand. It’s now the cheapest of the cheap. It would poison you so it would. You’d need to be hard up to drink it.”

  “Well, I am hard up.” I managed a smile.

  “Are you really?”

  “Yes. Babies are expensive.”

  “Tell me about it. My sister has five under five. I think it’s the reason I never forget to take my pill.”

  “Eh . . . can I leave my briefcase here with you? I’m going to sit in the kitchenette for a bit and read the paper. I won’t be too long.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks. It’s just I’m not sure which desk . . . I mean there’s been a change in seating arrangements since I was last here. The girl with the red hair . . .”

  “Oh, you mean Louise?” Tina raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  “Louise? Is that her name? Well, she seems to think that we’re sharing a desk.”

  “Does she? She has airs and graces about her that I don’t know where she got them. She’s a funny one, so she is.”

  “Funny?”

  Tina lowered her voice. “As in odd, not amusing.”

  “Oh.”

  It really wasn’t a good thing to be to be caught gossiping in the reception area with Tina about another member of staff. I glanced at the door anxiously just in case anybody suddenly walked in. But nobody was about. It was eerily quiet.

  “I think I’ll go and make my coffee even if it is nasty.

  Are you sure I can’t get you one too?”

  “Positive.”

  “Is there milk in the fridge?”

  “Milk?” Tina opened her eyes dramatically. “Milk? Are you joking? Haven’t you heard about the R word?”

  “R word?”

  “Rrrecession,” said Tina, doing a very bad impression of a French person. “Sure, how can we forget about the recession when we’re reminded by Creea every single second of every single day? Invest in some warm heavy clothes for the winter, I say. It wouldn’t surprise me if they turned the heat off.”

  “Right. Thanks for the tip.” I found myself almost running off to the tiny kitchenette just to get away from Tina’s gloominess. I hoped it wasn’t contagious. But she called after me. “How is your little girl, by the way? I can’t remember her name now.”

  I paused. And took a deep breath. “It’s a boy,” I said, turning around, “and his name is John. You sent a card on behalf of all the staff at the magazine. It was lovely.”

  Tina had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Oh yeah, so I did. I remember now. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” I said before scuttling off to the kitchen. I badly needed my caffeine fix now.

  Later that day I was in for a good old dressing-down by my boss, which was humiliating to say the least. “You’ll both have to share,” said Creea firmly. “You’ll be working from home most days anyway, Kaylah. If you’re in the office and Louise is using the desk you can use my desk if it’s available.

  I felt so disheartened. No, I hadn’t exactly been expecting balloons to welcome me back to work, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this. Where was I supposed to put all my stuff? Sometimes I’d come back to the office with bags and bags of stuff.

  Creea had an answer for that too. “We’re installing personal lockers in the Ladies’ tomorrow, so from now on everyone will have their own space to store their stuff.”

  Great, I thought. Now, not only did I not have my own desk any more, but I was to store all the expensive clothes, shoes and jewellery that I’d borrowed for glamorous photo shoots in what was the loo basically. I was so glad I’d come back to work –not.

  Sally tried to make me feel better over lunch. “Look, I know it’s not great having to share the desk with Louise, and I know she isn’t the easiest person in the world to be around but at least you’re still here.” She put a slender arm around me. I noticed that she’d lost a lot

  of weight. Everyone in the office seemed to have shrunk since I’d last seen them. Tina and Creea looked sleek and slim but Louise was like a lollipop – straight body and big round head.

  I found myself scowling at my cheese-and-coleslaw sandwich. I should have ordered a salad like Sally. “I feel like I’m obese,” I said morosely.

  “Hey, stop that! You’ve just had a baby,” said Sally. “What an achievement that is. Come on now, don’t beat yourself up for having put on a few pounds. It’s the most natural thing in the world. The average woman would be happy with your size.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it, but who wants to be average? Anyway, I just feel enormous today. Everyone else is so skinny compared to me.”

  Sally cut a lettuce leaf in half with her knife and fork. “But our office isn’t normal,” she said. “We work for a fashion magazine. I’m sure if you were working in an insurance office or something everybody would just look like regular people. We’re bombarded by fashion images of skinny models every day. No wonder we feel guilty eating chocolate!”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said, forcing myself to cheer up slightly. I started tucking into my sandwich. The carbs felt so good. I could sense that Sally was looking at my plate longingly.

  “Tina is on a strict diet at the moment,” Sally said, eager to fill me in on all the gossip. “It’s called the Heartbreak Diet. It’s the most effective diet in the whole world.”

  “Heartbreak?”

  “Yes, didn’t you hear? She split up with her boyfriend a few days ago. She caught him in bed with another bird apparently when she arrived home early from work.”

  “What! Are you serious? That’s terrible.”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God, poor Tina! She must have been devastated. So I guess they won’t be buying a house now.”

  “I guess not. Well, not together anyway, Although she’s still banging on about the fact that property prices are still dropping and have even further to go. It really annoys poor Annette from accounts who bought her house in the middle of the boom and is now drowning in negative equity.”

  “Well, she can be annoying all right. She just doesn’t seem to know when to shut up and her mouth tends to start moving before her brain has a chance to engage. But she didn’t say anything to me about the break-up.”

  “As if she would! Tina likes to pretend to everyone that her whole life is wonderful. I think the break-up was supposed to be a secret but she stupidly told Louise and now the whole office knows about it. Now she’s starving herself in the hope of losing weight and getting her boyfriend back. No breakfast, black coffee all day, an apple at eleven, a half a tub of cottage cheese and some fruit at lunch and vodka in the evening. Apparently, she’s lost a half a stone
already.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, and although it nearly kills me to admit it, she does look amazing. Bitch!”

  I couldn’t help wishing a little that I was on a Heartbreak Diet. Why does it never work like that for me? When Clive dumped me all I could do was stuff my face with sweets and cakes! I was so skinny when I met him and now I’m fat and disgusted with myself. How can these people simply stop eating over the loss of a man? I envy them!

  I decided not to waste my lunch-break worrying about losing weight and I asked Sally about Louise. I mean, where had she even come from? And how long was she staying? Not too long, I hoped.

  Sally popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and pretended to savour the moment. “Well,” she said, “Creea took on Louise and another girl as interns, basically in order to save money by not employing a real person to do the work, and then the other girl left last week and Louise was kept on. I believe she’s on a six-month contract, not that you’ll hear that from her. That one wouldn’t tell her left hand what her right hand was doing. She’s a bit sly.”

  I raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Sly? How do you mean? In what way?”

  “Well, I’ll give you a good example. The invitations came in the other day for the premiere of that new romantic comedy starring Colin Firth. You know the one everyone’s raving about? So, the tickets were naturally like gold dust for that. Tina opened the envelope and left the tickets on her desk, but then she said she couldn’t find them on the afternoon of the premiere. Myself and Tina had intended on going together and making a girls’ night

  out of it but, as we had no tickets and it was too late to phone the PR people to see if we could get new tickets issued, we couldn’t go. Anyway, the next day Louise came into work as usual and said nothing, and that afternoon I saw a picture of Louise and a friend of hers in the society pages of theEvening Herald! They had been at the film and the after party and they had even met Colin Firth. Can you frigging believe it? Her new Facebook profile photo