But I Said Forever

by Jennifer Gilby Roberts

  Chapter 9

  On Thursday evening, the doorbell rings while I’m upstairs and I hurry down to answer it. Phillip may have had a point about getting a maid. This house is too large to hurtle through. Carly’s always apologising for missing the postman.

  “Hello, Brittany!” says the person on the front step. “I’m Lauren, your new nanny.”

  It takes considerable effort not to stand and gape at her. I think I was expecting another Carly. Lauren must be around my age, but can’t be far off six feet tall, with the most gorgeous mane of red gold hair and every curve that I was denied. My slight frame and cute pixie cut suddenly feel horribly boyish and unattractive.

  “Please come in,” I say, when I’ve recovered myself. “How was the journey down?”

  Lauren heaves two bulging suitcases over the threshold. “Long. Train derailment somewhere or other - wrong sort of leaves. Fortunately, I had the new James Patterson with me, so I didn’t mind. Is James asleep?”

  “No, he’s been out for the day and isn’t back yet.”

  “No worries. Let’s grab something for tea before the tour - I’m starving.”

  “Oh. Yes.”

  Lauren leaves her bags by the door and follows me down the hall and into the kitchen. “Nice place,” she says, whistling. “I thought Carly was nuts for moving out of the city – well, apart from being near her mum – but I think this is worth it. Are those marble worktops?”

  “Yes.” I retrieve some leftover pasta salad from the fridge, very conscious that I am not meant to be serving the nanny. “Will this do?”

  “Fine; I could eat out of the bin right now. Is the granny flat as nice as this?”

  “The decor’s a little older, but still done to a good standard.”

  I’m positive I’m quoting the estate agent.

  “Is there a shower? Because I have squashing issues with baths.”

  “Yes.”

  I watch her tuck into the pasta with gusto.

  “So, Carly said that you trained together?”

  “Mmm.”

  “And since then you’ve been working abroad?”

  “Mmm.”

  “So, you’re experienced in looking after little ones?”

  She swallows. “I haven’t had one this young before, but if I can take care of three under ten boys with ADHD and no sense of self-preservation, James should be a snap.”

  I’m not feeling entirely comfortable right now. Maybe I should call the agency.

  Except she didn’t come from the agency. And no one else was interested in the position.

  I hear movement in the hall and a minute later Phillip comes in. He gives me a nod, then spots Lauren and verges on a double-take.

  She wipes her mouth on my best teatowel. “You must be Phillip,” she says, jumping off the stool and holding out her hand. “I’m Lauren, your new nanny.”

  Phillip looks her up and down, rather warily – as he did with Carly when he first met her. “Perhaps it would be more appropriate if you called me Dr. Beresford.”

  One eyebrow arches. “If you like, Dr. B. Brittany and I are already good mates.”

  I’m not sure about that.

  He looks from her to me. “I’m going upstairs,” he says. “I’ve got some work to do before I turn in.”

  “Of course.”

  He leaves the kitchen again. Lauren looks from the door to me. “Got a bit of a stick up his arse, doesn’t he?”

  Maybe he does, but I’m sure she shouldn’t say so.

  I’ve just got back from settling Lauren in the granny flat - which I swear she owned the moment she entered - when the doorbell rings again.

  “I’m so sorry,” is the first thing Zack says to me.

  “What?” I ask, suddenly panicked.

  He exhibits the car seat. “I tried to keep him awake, but he conked out on the journey back.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Did you have a good day?”

  “Yeah, it was a lot of fun.” Zack puts the car seat down and heads to the car for the rest of James’s stuff. “He had a great time crawling about on the beach. He paddled in a rock pool and picked up a few shells. The weather turned a bit in the afternoon, so we wandered along to the children’s centre and it turned out there was this music group on. He was fascinated by the duck puppet.”

  “Thanks so much,” I say, lifting James inside. “Would you like a drink?”

  “I could definitely use some coffee. And it’s no problem,” Zack says, bringing everything else in. “Like I said, I enjoy hanging out with kids and surprisingly few people will let you borrow them for the day.”

  “Better have some of your own, then.”

  He looks at his feet. “Can’t actually, as it turns out.”

  “Oh.”

  Surely I must be able to come up with something better than that.

  “That’s bad luck,” I say, as I lead him to the kitchen. “You could always adopt.”

  “I’d be fine with that, but not everyone feels it’s good enough.”

  “Your ex-wife?”

  “I doubt she’s the only one.”

  “Maybe not,” I say, as I put the kettle on, “but it’s not a given. Or you could find someone who already has kids.”

  “That doesn’t mean they don’t want more.”

  “Well, not always,” I say, working hard to control a ridiculous blush, “but there must be plenty who would be happy to skip the pregnancy part.”

  “Would you?”

  I pretend to check on James, still sleeping peacefully. “I can’t imagine I would feel I’d missed out if I didn’t go through it again. I wasn’t one of those who enjoyed it.”

  I turn away from him to make the coffee.

  “I’m adopted.”

  I turn back. “Really?”

  “My birth mother couldn’t take care of me, so I was fostered as a baby and then adopted.”

  I bring him a coffee, along with a glass of water for myself, and stand beside him.

  “Did you always know that, or did they tell you when you were grown-up?”

  “I always knew it. They were very good like that.”

  “Did you ever think of trying to find your birth mother?”

  Zack wraps his hands around the mug. “Not while my parents were alive. After they passed, I set out on a search.”

  “And?”

  “I found her.”

  “That must have been… confusing.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still see her?”

  Zack takes a sip of coffee, then puts the mug down. “Five days a week, actually.”

  I blink at him.

  “Kristine is my birth mother.”

  My jaw falls open. My etiquette teacher would be appalled at me.

  “Kristine? Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Goodness.” I try to get my head around that. Zack is the son she said she’d lost. He didn’t die, he was given away - or taken away. I want to ask, but I’m positive Kristine wouldn’t want me to know.

  “You don’t act like it,” I say. “I guessed you knew each other well, but…”

  Zack traces patterns on the worktop. “We don’t really think of ourselves as mother and son,” he says. “We missed out on that. But we consider each other to be family now. I reckon that’s a pretty good outcome.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “She’s adopted too; we’re not blood relations.”

  “But you’re still family.”

  “Most definitely.”

  “That’s good.” I take a sip of water. “I have a sister too. And I’m glad to have her. Mostly.”

  Zack laughs.

  The clock chimes and James stirs in his car seat. Zack checks his watch. “I’d better get going,” he says. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I see him out, and then I take James upstairs in his car seat and brace myself f
or waking him up. Or, more to the point, getting him to go back to sleep again.

  Chapter 10

  Two weeks pass. Lauren sticks her feet firmly under - and often on - the table, Phillip phones the agency for a replacement and gets no further than I did and James is fascinated by her.

  The main cake decoration course starts up and my enthusiasm for that part of my life is fired once again. As soon as James is in bed each night, I get out my tools and play with icing while obsessively watching Cake Boss and Choccywoccydoodah and dreaming of designing cakes for celebrities. By day, though, I serve customers, stack shelves and clean things.

  Abby takes her apron off, ready to go for her lunch. “I’m meeting Toby,” she says, blushing prettily. “I can’t wait to see him!”

  “Things going well, then?”

  “Oh, it’s perfect! He’s such a wonderful boyfriend. He buys me flowers and chocolates and other little presents. We go on these long romantic walks along the beach and then we sit and talk for hours. Last Sunday he made a picnic and we sat on the cliffs and ate it looking out to sea. Oh, it’s wonderful!”

  “Sounds amazing,” I say, smiling. I have to admit, Mel might actually have got it right this time.

  “And he fucks like a man possessed. He’s got a cock like a cucumber and he pounds me into the mattress every night.” She sighs contentedly. “B, I’m so happy!”

  I stare at her. She managed to say all that without the slightest loss of innocence in her eyes. “That’s… wonderful.”

  She fluffs her hair up. “I have to run. See you later!”

  “See you.”

  Maybe I imagined that.

  Coming home from class that night, tired, but itching to finish what I was working on, I hear voices in the lounge. I listen at the door for a moment.

  “That man is a piece of work,” Lauren is saying. “Do you know he’s been telling me what I should wear when I take his son out? He even suggested I keep a housecoat to put on when I answer the door. Honestly, you’d think I was running around all day in my underwear!”

  He’s not that far wrong.

  “He tried that with me too,” comes Carly’s voice. “He’s very concerned with appearances. Don’t worry, he’s not home much.”

  “Yes, I noticed. Do you know where he goes…”

  I push open the door. “Hi, Brittany,” Lauren says, without any sign of embarrassment. “You’re home early. James is asleep - crashed out in two minutes.”

  “That’s impressive,” I say, dumping my bag on the sideboard. I move to where I’m in view of the iPad’s camera and wave. “Hi, Carly, how’s your mum?”

  “Weak, but cheerful. The new painkillers are helping.”

  “Good.”

  “I’d better get back to her, actually.”

  “Okay then. Take care.”

  “You too. Give James a kiss from me.”

  “I will.”

  When she’s gone, I look around. There are toys strewn everywhere, the coffee table is covered in sticky, fluffy finger-marks and there’s an unidentifiable smear down the French windows.

  I grab a cloth and spray from this room’s stash of cleaning stuff. “How does one small boy manage to create so much mess?” I say, rubbing vigorously at the window. I must get one of those window vacuums.

  “This is nothing,” Lauren says, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

  “Feet!”

  “Fine.” She slowly lifts them down again. “My last lot of boys could destroy a room in less than a minute. Germs are good for them, anyway, so you’re better off letting the place get dirty.”

  I shudder. There is no way I can live in a tip. I’ll have to get the cleaner to do some extra hours. Otherwise, I’ll spend half my cake work time cleaning up.

  “Carly always managed to have the place neat by the end of the day.”

  “That’s because Carly was positively anal about it. No wonder you got on so well.”

  “Lauren, that isn’t appropriate.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t mean that in a nasty way.”

  I go into the kitchen to avoid snapping at her.

  When I come back, she says, “By the way, your mum called earlier. She said she and your dad want to come down the weekend after next.”

  “I’d better call her back, then.”

  Lauren puts some gum in her mouth and starts popping it. I tense. “No hurry,” she says, between pops. “I checked the calendar and told her it was fine.”

  “You...” I hastily check myself. “Lauren, managing my diary really isn’t part of your job.”

  “No worries. James was napping, so I was on the iPad anyway. Hey, that brother-in-law of yours is a bit of all right, isn’t he?”

  “Pardon?”

  “I was checking out your Facebook profile. I sent you a friend request, by the way - I already friended your sister. Where did she find him?”

  “Next door.”

  Lauren sighs. “Some girls have all the luck.”

  “I’m going to call my mum back,” I say, picking up the cordless phone. “You can go now.”

  Lauren leaps off the sofa and hurries away, while I take a breath and wonder if it’s worth calling the agency again. Or trying a different one. Or six.

  Then I connect the iPad to the nanny cam. I never used it with Carly, since I was around so much when she started. But with Lauren... I want it there.

  I watch on fast forward while I finish my decorating. By the time I’ve finished, I’m feeling rather ashamed. She has James enthralled. She’s certainly a lot more high energy than Carly, but James is loving it. No wonder he went right to sleep. And she seems to revel in messy play. While he naps, although she doesn’t make more than a cursory effort to clean up, she doesn’t do anything suspect either.

  I should have trusted Carly’s judgement. Lauren and I may not be kindred spirits, but it’s her relationship with James that counts. As long as I always count to ten before I speak, I’m sure we won’t have any trouble.

  Well, fairly sure.

  Chapter 11

  On the appointed day, I watch my parents’ car pull up the gravel driveway and grip James a little tighter. My first weekend off since I started working and I’m spending it convincing them that everything is fine.

  Once it’s safely parked, my father climbs slowly out and adjusts his belt over his bulging stomach. When I was small, he used to bounce me on it while I giggled madly.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I say, carrying James out to greet him as he opens Mum’s door. Not that she’s incapable of doing it herself, but Dad seems to consider such behaviour on a par with infidelity (as, indeed, does Phillip). Sometimes I’m struck by the similarities between my father and my husband - and then I feel quite ill.

  “There’s my little girl,” he says, smiling warmly and wrapping us in his arms. “But what on earth have you done to your hair?”

  “Oh.” I run my hand over it nervously. “I had a mad moment.”

  And a second one when I had it trimmed.

  He eyes my do like I’ve got rats living in it. “Well, I suppose it will grow back.”

  “It suits you,” Mum tells me, as she takes James.

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  Dad grunts. “Not feminine, this short hair on women.”

  I go to get their bags out of the car boot, but Dad intercepts me. “That’s my job.”

  As ever, the fact that I’m considerably younger and in better shape is irrelevant.

  He heaves the bags onto the drive and then looks around while he catches his breath. “Very nice,” he says. “Every bit as good as the photos.” He wipes his forehead with a handkerchief. “But maybe a cup of tea before the tour.”

  I lead them inside, duly make tea and take them round the house. Then Dad and I sit out on the patio while James plays in the sandpit with Mum.

  “Yes, a very fine place,” Dad says, looking over the garden. “Phillip’s done you proud.”

  In the housing department, certainly
.

  “Which reminds me, I still need to have that chat with him about James’s education, don’t I?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that right now,” I say quickly. “He’s only nine months old. We won’t have to think about which school to send him to for years.”

  “Yes, but the sooner we get this idea about private school out of his head the better. We don’t want him putting James’s name on any lists.” Dad loosens his belt. “Schools like that teach their kids to take everything for granted. Living like this is a privilege. He should appreciate it and be grateful to his father for all his hard work.”

  Actually, mostly to his great grandfather for having suspiciously good luck with investments.

  “I’m not sure how much you’ll see of Phillip,” I say. “He’s working very hard at the moment.”

  “Thinking of his next promotion already, is he? Good, good.” Dad leans back in his chair and sighs contentedly. “You know, my girl, I can’t tell you what a comfort it is to have you settled - especially in style like this. If I could only get a ring on Melanie’s finger, I’d be a happy man. I may have to have a word with Will.”

  It’s a good job Dad didn’t come down the same weekend as they did.

  “It’s only a few months since they got together.”

  Dad snorts. “They’ve been hanging around with each other for 26 years. I don’t know what they think is going to change in the next one.”

  “I think Mel might want to be a little older when she marries.”

  “I don’t know where some girls get the idea that older is better. They should all do what you did and marry straight out of school. Here you are at 23 with everything the 30-year-olds are searching for. I bet they wish they were in your shoes.”

  I have my doubts about that.

  I try to imagine telling my dad that Phillip and I were divorcing. He’d be absolutely crushed. Worse still, I don’t think he’d ever understand why I’d done it. All he’d see is that I’d thrown away everything he’d ever wanted me to have. That is, if he didn’t just have a heart attack and die from the shock.

  I get a stab of resentment in my gut. Why couldn’t we just have lived happily ever after? That’s what’s supposed to happen when you marry Prince Charming, isn’t it?