The Au Pair Read online

  Lottie had frowned. ‘Mummy used to make hers. Don’t you remember?’

  Why, he wondered, did he always manage to say the wrong thing? He seemed to be doing more and more of that recently. Maybe it was because the anniversary of Sally’s death was approaching. Was Lottie aware of that too and was that why she was being so difficult about having an au pair?

  The doorbell rang at precisely three o’clock. Matthew was impressed. He’d suggested picking up the girl at the station but the agency had said she would rather make her own way to the house so she could take a good look at Corrywood en route to ‘see if she liked it’.

  ‘Do you want to answer the door with me?’ he now asked Lottie, who was scowling in front of the television that he had tried, in vain, to get her to turn off.

  There was no answer. The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time. ‘Just coming,’ he called out, leaving Lottie and making his way hastily through the small hallway, wishing too late that he had tidied up the collection of shoes by the front door.

  Wow. His first thought was that the agency had sent a model! In front of him stood a tall, very slim, extremely elegant blonde with the kind of hairstyle that seemed to be shorter at the back and went down in little pointy bits to just above her shoulders. She was wearing a pale blue dress with a matching jacket and high heels. On her shoulder was a pale blue leather handbag. In contrast, the girl wore a very bright glossy lipstick, which matched Sally’s geraniums in the pots outside. The whole effect was disturbingly attractive.

  ‘Meester Evans?’ She held out her hand. ‘I am very pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise.’ He felt his tongue slipping as he spoke so that it came out like ‘lyth-wise’. ‘Please come in.’

  As he shut the door behind her, Matthew glanced next door. There they were! The twitching curtains! His neighbour probably thought he was inviting a string of girls in as ‘entertainment’. Matthew couldn’t help thinking that Sally might just think this was a huge joke.

  ‘Berenice.’ He gestured towards his daughter, who was squatting in front of the television. ‘This is Lottie. Come and say hello, darling.’

  Grudgingly, she turned round and Matthew saw her eyes widening, taking in Berenice’s glamorous outfit and those brown bits round her eyes that made her look like an Egyptian cat. ‘Is your hair real?’ she asked breathlessly.

  ‘Lottie! That’s rude.’

  Berenice smiled. A nice wide, open smile with lots of glossy stuff on it. ‘Not at all. Your daughter is very astute. In fact, they are extensions.’ She knelt down next to Lottie and took her hand. ‘See? If you run your finger like this along my head, you can just feel where they join on.’

  ‘Wow!’ Lottie’s eyes were even wider. ‘May I have extensions too, Daddy?’

  Matthew felt his heart lifting. His daughter liked Berenice! Just as important, she seemed to like Lottie.

  ‘Why don’t you turn off the television, Daddy?’ Lottie gave him a little warning smile. ‘Mummy always turned if off when we had guests unless she wanted me to amuse myself.’ She turned to their visitor. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? Daddy and I bought a cake, especially for you. ’

  They spent over an hour talking in the sitting room with Matthew outlining the basic duties that he would expect of her if she wanted to take the job. ‘It would be very helpful if you could do some housework like hoovering.’

  He glanced at the carpet, which looked a bit grubby, and the silver-framed photographs of Sally on the pine mantelpiece, which needed dusting, as did the glass-topped coffee table in front of them.

  Berenice tilted her head questioningly. ‘’Oovering? Who is ’Oovering?’

  ‘It’s the vacuum cleaner.’ He flushed. ‘We use it to clean carpets.’

  ‘Ah!’ Her face lightened and they both laughed politely. She was perched on the edge of the sofa, her legs (in those shiny kind of tights which his wife had sometimes worn on special occasions) close together in a pose that could have come straight out of a Sunday supplement.

  ‘And you might need to help Lottie clean out Eddie, her lizard.’

  Her eyes brightened. ‘Eddie Izzard? I enjoy him too.’

  ‘Er no, not like the comedian. Eddie is a pet lizard.’

  She frowned. ‘I am sorry, Meester Evans. I do not do pets. Now, I have more questions! Is there a language school in town?’

  ‘Yes.’ He had done his homework on that this time. ‘I’ve already rung and they do have a spare place.’

  She bent her head to one side as though considering the idea. ‘And will you expect me to work two evenings a week?’

  That’s what the guidelines had suggested in the agency notes but he didn’t need an evening babysitter. ‘No. I simply want to be with my daughter when I get back home. So you can have every evening off.’

  Another slight bend of the head, this time to the left. Matthew felt a rush of anxiety now in case she turned him down.

  ‘And my weekends, they are free?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Then I will accept the job.’ She bent her head graciously for a third time as she spoke, as though accepting some kind of honour or award.

  Matthew wanted to hug her. ‘Thank you.’ He glanced across to Lottie, who had sidled up admiringly next to their visitor, twiddling the ends of her hair. ‘What do you think, Lottie? Would you like Berenice to be your new au pair?’

  Lottie was nodding madly. If she did that any more, she’d lose that wobbly tooth at the front which had been promising to fall out for ages. ‘Yes. I’ll make your room really nice this time.’ She gave Matthew a shy smile. ‘Promise.’

  Berenice moved in the following day so Matthew could show her how everything worked in the house. He planned to spend the last few days of his compassionate leave at home, to help her learn the ropes. But he’d also, Matthew told himself, go out for a couple of hours every day, just to make sure the new au pair could manage on her own. It was a terrifying thought. How could he allow a stranger to look after Lottie? Then again, he didn’t have much choice.

  ‘I’ve signed Lottie up for an afternoon summer activity course in the local hall,’ he explained. ‘When I start work again, I won’t be back until early evening.’

  He stopped. Even though Janine from the agency had told Berenice he was a widower, they hadn’t really discussed it yet. Perhaps now was the time to do so. ‘My wife died almost a year ago.’

  Berenice bent her head graciously in that odd manner of hers, as though absorbing small talk at a dinner party. He was getting used to the movement now. Maybe it was something she’d picked up in diplomatic circles.

  ‘It hasn’t been easy for Lottie.’

  Another nod.

  ‘She’s been seeing a bereavement counsellor.’ No need, he told himself, to mention that he was seeing one too. ‘On the surface, she seems all right but there are times when she does something … well, out of character.’ He thought of the room she’d messed up for Sozzy. He ought to check with the agency about her. Find out if she’d got in touch. Presumably she was all right or else he’d have heard something.

  Now those cool grey eyes in front of him lifted up to his. ‘I will take care of her, Mr Evans. Do not worry.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’ He tried to look as though he was perfectly happy with a strange woman moving in. ‘Thought I might go out this afternoon so you could have a dry run.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Dry run? What is she?’

  Matthew felt his lips twitching. ‘It means trying something new first. Now are you all right to look after Lottie while I do a supermarket shop?’

  ‘Ah! Shops!’ Her head nodded enthusiastically.

  Clearly this was a word she was familiar with. It ought to have been higher up his list of priorities too. He really wasn’t much of a cook. Since Sally’s death, he and Lottie had lived too much on tins and takeaways. But now with Berenice around, this would all change.

  When he got back, laden with supermarket bags
, Lottie was stirring something in a pan with Berenice standing next to her. She was wearing, he saw with a pang, one of Sally’s aprons – the floral National Trust one he’d given her one Christmas.

  ‘I am teaching Lottie to cook,’ she announced. ‘Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. You will be ready then, yes?’

  It was almost like being in someone else’s house as a guest but, hell, he was tired and there was something rather nice about coming downstairs and tucking into, what he had to admit, was an amazing fish dish with vegetables in a hollandaise sauce. Pudding was apple strudel. ‘I made it, Daddy, with Berenice’s help! We went down the road to get the ingredients. I lent her my pocket money.’

  But he’d just been shopping!

  ‘We tidied up the kitchen too!’

  Lottie’s face was gleaming. Indeed they had. Part of Matthew felt Berenice should have asked his permission before moving the pink and green china plates on the dresser which Sally had always had in a certain order. Then again, it seemed slightly petty to make a fuss. As long as Lottie was happy, it was all right. That night, Matthew slept better than he had done for a long time.

  ‘So it’s working out?’

  Christina was sitting opposite him in a matching beige-flecked chair. They were having one of his monthly sessions which the GP had arranged.

  He nodded. ‘It’s been just over a week now and our new au pair – she’s called Berenice – seems to get on very well with Lottie. She bosses me around, though. And rearranges things.’ He laughed, trying to make a joke out of it in case she thought he was making a fuss. ‘Strikes me as being a bit of a control freak.’

  Christina’s eyebrows raised slightly. She wasn’t a pretty woman, he had sometimes thought. More a handsome one with pale blond hair tied in a knot at the back and a very straight back. But she had a lovely voice and a kind face (framed by rather trendy purple-framed glasses) that could make you feel relaxed about telling her anything. Well, almost.

  Although Christina wore a thin gold band on her left hand, she never mentioned her own personal life. In a way, she reminded him of a kindly but sensible prefect. Sally, on the other hand, had been more like a naughty sixth-former. Once, shortly after they had got married, she had taken the kitchen scissors to a new dress and slashed it – right in front of him – before taking it back to the shop and claiming it was damaged! She’d then demanded her money back and compensation to boot.

  Matthew had been shocked by that. In fact, it had been one of the first danger signals. He couldn’t, he thought, bringing his attention back to Christina, imagine his counsellor doing anything like that. Still, you never knew. People could be deceptive.

  ‘You need to set the boundaries clearly.’

  Matthew’s mind, which seemed to be going all over the place at the moment, went back to yesterday when he had come home from a long aimless walk to find the house immaculately clean and hoovered. ‘Plis. Remove your shoes,’ Berenice had told him in a rather clipped, precise voice. ‘I do not want any mess on the floor.’

  So much for boundaries! ‘I do try. But Lottie seems happy – although a bit tired – and that’s the main thing.’

  ‘And what about you?’ Christina glanced at her notes. ‘It’s nearly a year, isn’t it?’

  He nodded. Suddenly a huge lump came up into his throat and he felt the tears before he could stop them. ‘I’ve started walking, like you suggested,’ he managed to say in a tight voice, ‘but it can’t obliterate everything. Maybe it will be better when I go back to work and have to think of other things.’

  ‘I think you’re right.’ Christina pushed the box of tissues towards him just in time.

  ‘Sorry,’ he tried to say.

  She shook her head. ‘Don’t be. It’s part of the healing process. In fact, it’s a good sign.’

  ‘You know,’ he said, the tears pouring out now, ‘I still wear the aftershave cologne she gave me last Christmas. Only a little bit every day because I’m worried how I’ll manage when it’s empty. Then I’ll feel she’s really gone.’

  Christina’s eyes filled with sympathy. ‘That’s normal too. I once had a client whose husband gave her a box of chocolates before he was killed suddenly in a car crash. She made a promise to herself that she would eat one on their anniversary every year.’

  He’d stopped weeping now. ‘But didn’t they go stale eventually?’

  She nodded. ‘Exactly.’

  After the counselling session, he went back to the house. It was only five o’clock and his spirits felt a bit lighter. Christina had been right. Crying had made him feel better even though he felt an idiot for having broken down in her office. Still, he was home now. Maybe, if Berenice hadn’t started to make supper yet, they’d all go out to eat and …

  What was this? Lottie was bending over a kitchen cupboard on her hands and knees scrubbing the inside. ‘Poppet. What are you doing?’

  His daughter glanced around, looking scared. ‘Shh, Dad, or she’ll hear. Berenice told me that if I didn’t get this cupboard clean before you got back, I couldn’t have lunch tomorrow.’

  No!

  Lottie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘She makes me do all the housework, Dad. It’s why I’ve been so tired.’

  The old tightening feeling in his chest returned. ‘Is this another of your stories, princess?’

  She shook her head wildly. Suddenly he realised that something was different.

  ‘What happened to your hair?’

  Another tear rolled down his daughter’s cheek. ‘The oh pear cut my fringe. She said it would look better this way.’

  This was outrageous!

  Lottie dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘She said that if I told you, she’d say I was making everything up. But go upstairs into your bedroom and you’ll see.’

  His bedroom? Quietly, he tiptoed up the stairs and pushed open the door.

  ‘Monsieur Evans!’

  Almost unable to believe his eyes, he stared at Berenice. The girl was standing in front of Sally’s full-length mirror wearing her beautiful black backless slinky evening dress!

  ‘What do you think you are doing?’

  She gazed at him coolly. ‘I was just trying it on. It is a waste, do you not think, for the clothes to stay in the wardrobe?’ Coolly, she flicked some clothes along the rail. ‘Some of them, it is true, are not worth wearing but I rather like this.’

  ‘Get out.’ Matthew heard his voice rise. ‘Get out of my house. How dare you chop off my daughter’s hair, treat her like a slave and wear my wife’s clothes.’

  Berenice bent her head to one side. ‘Your daughter is spoilt. She does no work. Besides, I think her hair looks better like this.’

  This was outrageous! Matthew thundered down the stairs, fumbling in his pocket for his mobile. ‘Janine? This is Matthew Evans.’ He slipped into the sitting room, shutting the door behind him so no one else could hear. How awful, he thought, to have to hide away in his own house to get some privacy!

  ‘I am afraid that Berenice is not suitable for us.’ His voice rose in anger. ‘She cut my daughter’s hair without asking permission and had the nerve to try on my dead wife’s clothes so I have asked her to leave immediately … A fortnight’s notice? You want me to give her a fortnight’s notice after this?’

  The thought of living with this woman who had taken such liberties was impossible!

  ‘I will go early if you pay me two hundred and fifty pounds,’ said a cool voice on the other side of the door.

  Matthew flung it open. Had she no shame, eavesdropping on him like that? Matthew threw her a disdainful look. ‘She says she is happy to leave early if I pay her two hundred and fifty pounds. I think that says it all, don’t you? However, I am prepared to do so. And frankly, Janine, if this is the best you can do, I won’t be needing your services any more.’

  Then he put down the phone next to Sally laughing at him from the silver frame and wondered what exactly he ought to do next.

  Dear Jilly’s Au Pair Agency,<
br />
  My name is Fatima and I find you on the internet. I live in Wapping, London, but I am not happy. My family, he is not kind to me. I like to work in the countryside. Do you have a place for me?

  Yours expectantly,

  Fatima Mamid

  Chapter 7

  ‘SO YOU SEE, Jilly, I just can’t keep Fatima. I really can’t! When I speak to her, she seems to understand, but if my husband asks her to do something, she shoots him a filthy look and says, “I do not understand.”’

  Susan Wright lowered her voice. ‘I’ve a funny feeling that Fatima doesn’t like men! Whenever a male presenter or actor comes on TV, she switches channels immediately.’

  Jilly listened with a sinking heart. When Fatima’s email had popped up on screen, desperate to swap Wapping for Corrywood, it had seemed too good to be true. Susan Wright, who lived in a lovely part of town by the park, had recently collared her in the library, asking if she could find her an au pair just for the summer holidays ‘as soon as possible before I go mad!’.

  So after interviewing Fatima over the phone (the girl had sounded pleasant enough), she’d put the two in touch. An au pair agency was rather like fishing. You sent girls out to families, hoping for a bite. Sometimes it happened. Sometimes it didn’t.

  Perhaps she should have sounded out Fatima in person. But she’d been up to her eyes in looking after her own lot now the school holidays had started.

  ‘Maybe there’s some cultural reason for her behaviour,’ Jilly now suggested to the very disgruntled Susan Wright. ‘But if you’d like to look through the other girls I sent you, I’ll do an exchange. I’m afraid none are actually in this country at the moment so it might take a few weeks until they get here.’

  ‘By then the school holidays will be nearly over and I won’t need anyone!’ The voice at the other end dramatically altered from friendly to cool. ‘Forget it. I’ll go through another agency. Naturally, you’ll refund the placement fee.’

  Hand back money she’d already spent on the week’s shopping? Jilly felt her mouth go dry. That would be really difficult. ‘But my terms make it clear it’s non-returnable.’