by Blake Pierce
Maureen seemed satisfied with that, but the next questions were more difficult.
“What will you do if the children lie to you? For instance, if they tell you they’re allowed to do something that the parents have forbidden?”
“I’d say that it’s not allowed, and tell them the reason why if I knew it. I’d suggest we speak to the parents together and discuss the rule as a family, to help them understand why it’s important.” Cassie felt as if she were walking a tightrope, hoping that her answers were acceptable.
“How would you react, Cassie, if you witnessed a domestic fight? Living in a family’s home, there will be times when people don’t get along.”
Cassie closed her eyes for a moment, pushing away the memories triggered by Maureen’s words. Screaming, smashing glass, the neighbors shouting angrily. A chair wedged under the rattling handle of her bedroom door, the only flimsy protection she could find.
But just as she was about to say she’d lock herself and the kids in a secure room and call the police immediately, Cassie realized Maureen couldn’t be referring to that kind of a fight. Why would she? She was obviously thinking of a spoken argument, a few words snapped in annoyance or shouted in anger; temporary friction rather than terminal destruction.
“I would try to keep the children out of earshot,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “And I would respect the parents’ privacy and stay well away. After all, fights are part of life and an au pair has no right to take sides or become involved.”
Now, finally, she earned a small smile.
“A good answer,” Maureen said. She checked her computer again and nodded, as if confirming a decision she’d just made.
“There is only one possibility here that I could offer you. A position with a French family,” she said, and Cassie’s heart leaped, only to crash-land when Maureen added, “Their last au pair left unexpectedly after a month, and they’ve had difficulty finding a replacement.”
Cassie bit her lip. Whether the au pair had resigned or been fired, she didn’t know—but she couldn’t afford to have the same happen to her. With the agency fee and the airfare, she’d be plowing all her savings into this venture. Whatever it took, she would have to make it work.
Maureen added, “They are a wealthy family with a beautiful home. Not in town. It’s a mansion in the countryside, on a large estate. There’s an orchard and a small vineyard—not commercial—and also horses, although equestrian knowledge is not a job requirement. However, you’ll have the opportunity to learn to ride when you’re there if you like.”
“I’d love that,” Cassie said. The appeal of the French countryside, and the promise of horses, made the risk seem more worthwhile. And a wealthy family surely meant better job security. Perhaps the last au pair hadn’t been willing to try.
Maureen adjusted her glasses before jotting a note on Cassie’s form.
“Now, I must emphasize that not all families are easy to work for. Some are very challenging and some are downright difficult. The success of the job will rest on your shoulders.”
“I’ll do my best to succeed.”
“Quitting an assignment before your year is over is not acceptable. It will incur a substantial cancellation fee and you will never work for us again. The details are stipulated in the contract.” Maureen tapped her pen on the page.
“I can’t see that happening,” Cassie replied determinedly.
“Good. Then the final point we need to discuss is the timeframe.”
“Yes. How soon will I leave?” Cassie asked, her anxiety flooding back as she wondered how much longer she’d need to duck and dive.
“It usually takes about six weeks, but this family’s application is very urgent so we are going to fast-track it. If things move along as expected, you will fly out within a week. Is that acceptable?”
“It—it’s perfect,” she stammered. “Please, I accept the position. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work, and I won’t let you down.”
The woman stared back at her long and hard, as if summing her up one last time.
“Don’t,” she said.
CHAPTER TWO
Airports were all about goodbyes, Cassie thought. Rushed farewells, the impersonal environment robbing you of the words you really wanted to say, and the time to say them properly.
She’d insisted that the girlfriend who’d given her a ride to the airport drop her off rather than come in with her. A hug before jumping out of the car was quick and easy. Better than expensive coffee and awkward conversation, drying up as departure time drew closer. After all, she was traveling alone, leaving everyone she knew behind. It made sense to start that journey sooner, rather than later.
As Cassie wheeled the luggage cart into the terminal, she felt a sense of relief at the goals she’d accomplished so far. She’d gotten the assignment—the most important goal of all. She’d paid the flight and the agency fee, her visa had been fast-tracked, and she was on time for check-in. Her belongings were packed according to the list supplied—she was glad for the bright blue backpack she’d been given with the “Maureen’s Au Pairs” logo, because there wouldn’t have been room in her suitcase for all her clothes.
From here on until she landed in Paris, she was sure everything would go smoothly.
And then she stopped in her tracks, her heart hammering, as she saw him.
He was standing near the terminal entrance, with his back to the wall, thumbs hooked into the pockets of the leather jacket she’d given him. His height, his dark, spiky hair, and his aggressive jaw made him easy to spot as he scanned the crowds.
Zane.
He must have found out she was leaving at this time. She’d heard from various friends he’d been phoning around, asking where she was and checking up on the Florida story. Zane could be manipulative, and not everyone knew about her situation. Someone must have innocently told him the truth.
Before he could look in her direction, she swiveled the cart round, yanking her tracksuit hood over her head to hide her wavy auburn hair. She rushed the other way, steering the cart behind a pillar and out of his sight.
The Air France check-in desk was at the far end of the terminal. There was no way she could get past without him seeing her.
Think, Cassie, she told herself. In the past, Zane had praised her for her ability to make a fast plan in a tricky situation. “You think on your feet,” he’d said. That had been at the beginning of their relationship. By the end, he’d been accusing her bitterly of being sneaky, underhanded, too damn clever for her own good.
Time to be too damn clever, then. She took a deep breath, hoping for ideas. Zane was standing near the terminal entrance. Why? It would have been easier to wait by the check-in desk where he’d be sure of spotting her. So that meant he didn’t know which airline she was flying. Whoever he’d gotten the information from either hadn’t known, or hadn’t said. If she could find another way to the desk, she might be able to check in before he came looking.
Cassie unloaded her luggage, shouldering the heavy backpack and dragging her suitcase behind her. There was an escalator at the building’s entrance—she’d passed it on her way in. If she rode it up to the top level she hoped she would find one going down, or an elevator, at the other end.
Abandoning the luggage cart, she hurried back the way she had come and rode the escalator up. The one at the other end was broken, so she climbed down the steep steps, dragging her heavy bag behind her. The Air France check-in desk was a short distance away, but to her dismay, there was already a long and slow-moving line.
Pulling the gray hood further forward, she joined the line, took a paperback from her purse, and began reading. She wasn’t taking in the words, and the hood was sweltering. She wanted to rip it away, cool the perspiration on her neck. She couldn’t risk it, though, not when her bright hair would be instantly visible. Better to stay in hiding.
But then a firm hand tapped her on her shoulder.
She whirled round, gasping, and f
ound herself staring into the surprised eyes of a tall blonde who was about her own age.
“Sorry to startle you,” she said. “I’m Jess. I noticed your backpack and thought I should say hello.”
“Oh. Yes. Maureen’s Au Pairs.”
“Are you flying out on an assignment?” Jess asked.
“I am.”
“Me too. Do you want to see if the airline will seat us together? We could request it at check-in.”
While Jess chatted about the weather in France, Cassie glanced nervously around the terminal. She knew Zane wouldn’t give up easily—not after driving all the way out here. He would want something from her—an apology, a commitment. He would force her to come with him for “a goodbye drink” and pick a fight. He wouldn’t care if she arrived in France with fresh bruises… or missed her flight completely.
And then she saw him. He was heading in her direction, a few counters away, scanning each line carefully as he searched.
She turned away quickly, in case he sensed her gaze. With a flicker of hope, she saw they had reached the front of their line.
“Ma’am, you’ll need to remove that,” the check-in clerk said, pointing to Cassie’s hood.
Complying reluctantly, she pushed it back.
“Hey, Cass!” She heard Zane shouting the words.
Cassie froze, knowing a response would mean disaster.
Clumsy with nerves, she dropped her passport and scrabbled for it, her top-heavy backpack tipping over her head.
Another shout, and this time she glanced back.
He had seen her and was pushing his way through the line, elbowing people aside. The passengers were angry; she could hear raised voices. Zane was causing a commotion.
“We’d like to sit together if possible,” Jess told the clerk, and Cassie bit her lip at the additional delay.
Zane shouted again, and she realized with a sick feeling that he would reach her in a few moments. He’d turn on the charm and beg her for a chance to talk, reassure Cassie that it would only take a minute for him to say what he needed in private. His aim, she knew from experience, would be to get her away and alone. And then the charm would vanish.
“Who’s that guy?” Jess asked curiously. “Is he looking for you?”
“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” Cassie muttered. “I’ve been trying to avoid him. I don’t want him causing trouble before I leave.”
“But he’s already causing trouble!” Jess whirled round, irate.
“Security!” she screamed. “Help us! Somebody stop that man!”
Galvanized by Jess’s cries, one of the passengers grabbed Zane’s jacket as he pushed past. He slipped on the tiles, arms flailing, dragging one of the posts down with him as he fell.
“Hold him,” Jess appealed. “Security, quick!”
With a surge of relief, Cassie saw that security had indeed been alerted. Two airport police were rushing over to the line. They were going to reach it in time, before Zane could get to her, or even run away.
“I came to say goodbye to my girlfriend, officers,” Zane gabbled, but his attempts at charm were lost on the duo.
“Cassie,” he called, as the taller officer grasped his arm. “Au revoir.”
Reluctantly she turned to face him.
“Au revoir! It’s not goodbye,” he shouted, as the officers marched him away. “I’m gonna see you again. Sooner than you think. You better take care.”
She recognized the warning in Zane’s last words—but for now, they were empty threats.
“Thank you so much,” she said to Jess, overwhelmed with gratitude for her gutsy action.
“I also had a toxic boyfriend,” Jess sympathized. “I know how possessive they can be, they stick like freaking Velcro. It was a pleasure to be able to stop him.”
“Let’s go through passport control before he can find a way back in. I owe you a drink. What would you like—coffee, beer, or wine?”
“Wine, for sure,” Jess said, as they headed through the gates.
“So, where in France are you headed to?” Cassie asked, after they had ordered the wine.
“This time, I’m going to a family in Versailles. Close to where the palace is, I believe. I hope I’ll have a chance to go and see it when I have a day off.”
“You said this time? Have you been on an assignment before?”
“I have, but it didn’t work out well.” Jess dropped an ice cube in her glass. “The family was dreadful. In fact, they put me off using Maureen’s Au Pairs ever again. I went with a different agency this time. But don’t worry,” she added hurriedly, “I’m sure you will be fine. Maureen must have some good clients on her books.”
Cassie’s mouth felt suddenly dry. She took a big gulp of wine.
“I thought she was reputable. I mean, her slogan is The Premier European Agency.”
Jess laughed. “Well, that’s just marketing. Other people told me differently.”
“What happened to you?” Cassie asked. “Please tell me.”
“Well, the assignment sounded OK, although some of Maureen’s interview questions worried me. They were so weird that I started wondering if there were problems with the family, because none of my au pair friends were asked similar questions during their interview. And when I arrived—well, the situation wasn’t as advertised.”
“Why not?” Cassie felt cold inside. She’d found Maureen’s questioning strange, too. She’d assumed at the time that every applicant was asked the same questions; that it was a test of your abilities. And maybe it was… but not for the reasons she’d imagined.
“The family was super-toxic,” Jess said. “They were disrespectful and demeaning. The work I had to do was way outside of the scope of my job; they didn’t care and refused to change. And when I said I was leaving—that was when it really became a war zone.”
Cassie bit her lip. She’d had that experience growing up. She remembered raised voices behind closed doors, muttered arguments in the car, a tightrope sense of tension. She had always wondered what her mother—so quiet, subdued, beaten down—could possibly have found to argue about with her bombastic, aggressive father. It had only been after her mother’s death in a car crash that she’d realized the arguments were all about keeping the peace, managing the situation, protecting Cassie and her sister from the aggression that flared unpredictably, and for no good reason. Without her mother’s presence, the simmering conflict had boiled over into full-blown war.
She’d imagined one of the benefits of being an au pair would be that she could become part of the happy family she’d never had. Now she feared the opposite would be true. She’d never been able to keep the peace at home. Could she ever manage a volatile situation the same way her mother had done?
“I’m worried about my family,” Cassie confessed. “I also had odd questions during the interview, and their previous au pair left early. What will happen if I have to do the same? I don’t want to stay around if things are going to turn nasty.”
“Don’t leave unless it’s an emergency,” Jess warned. “It causes massive conflict, and you hemorrhage money; you’ll be liable for a lot of additional expenses. That nearly put me off trying again. I was very cautious about accepting this assignment. I wouldn’t have been able to afford it if my dad hadn’t paid for everything this time around.”
She put her wine glass down.
“Shall we go to the gate? We’re near the back of the plane, so we’ll be in the first group to board.”
The excitement of boarding the plane distracted Cassie from what Jess had said, and once they were seated, they chatted about other topics. When the plane took off, she felt her spirits lift with it, because she’d done it. She had left the country, she’d escaped Zane, and she was airborne, heading for a new start in a foreign land.
It was only after dinner, when she started thinking harder about the details of her assignment, and the warnings Jess had given her, that her misgivings crept back again.
Every family couldn’t be bad,
right?
But what if one particular agency had a reputation for accepting difficult families? Well, then, the chances would be greater.
Cassie tried to read for a while, but found she wasn’t focusing on the words, and her thoughts were racing as she worried about what lay ahead.
She glanced at Jess. After making sure she was engrossed in watching her movie, Cassie discreetly took the bottle of pills from her purse and swallowed one down with the last of her Diet Coke. If she couldn’t read, she might as well try to sleep. She switched off her light and reclined her seat.
*
Cassie found herself in her drafty upstairs bedroom, huddling under her bed with her back against the rough, cold wall.
Drunken laughter, thumps, and shouts came from downstairs; revelry that would, at any moment, turn violent. Her ears strained, waiting for the smashing of glass. She recognized her father’s voice and that of his latest girlfriend, Deena. There were at least four others down there, maybe more.
And then, over the shouts, she heard the creak of the floorboards as heavy footsteps climbed the stairs.
“Hey, little honey,” a deep voice whispered, and her twelve-year-old self cringed in terror. “Are you there, girlie?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself this was just a nightmare, that she was safe in bed and the strangers downstairs were getting ready to leave.
The door creaked slowly open and in the spill of moonlight, she saw a heavy boot appear.
The feet trod across the room.
“Hey, girlie.” A husky whisper. “I’ve come to say hello.”
She closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t hear her rapid breathing.
The whisper of fabric as he pulled the covers back… and then the grunt of surprise as he saw the pillow and coat that she’d bundled underneath.
“Out and about,” he’d muttered. She guessed he was looking at the grimy curtains billowing in the breeze, the drainpipe hinting at a precarious escape route. Next time, she would find the courage to climb down; it couldn’t be worse than hiding here.
