by Jenny Frame
“Okay, just one more interview to go.” Trent looked at her watch. “In fact, Ms. Darling should be here now.”
Trent made herself a cup of tea and waited and waited, until the last interviewee was now twenty minutes late. Trent paced up and down, getting angrier by the second. If this woman was late, then it didn’t bode well for her efficiency as a nanny.
Finally, the doorbell rang. She marched over and opened the door and without looking said, “You’re twenty minutes late.”
When she did look she was quite lost for words. Ms. Darling was leaning against the door frame, gasping for breath. “Yeah, I’m sorry…”
As annoyed as Trent was, she couldn’t stop her eyes from taking in everything about Ms. Darling. She looked like she had arrived straight from a summer music festival. She wore a straw hat that sat upon sun-bleached golden hair, with a few braided strands hanging down, framing her beautiful face. And she was beautiful, in a girly, innocent looking way, nothing like the sophisticated women Trent normally met.
Her look could best be described as hipster. She wore a shift dress that came to mid-thigh, allowing Trent to see plenty of leg. Trent purposely shook herself out of her appraising gaze, remembered how annoyed she was, and noticed the henna tattoo on Ms. Darling’s arm.
What kind of hippy was this woman?
“Sorry I’m late, Ms. Trent. I don’t like lifts much, and I didn’t realize you were so high up. I’m Wendy, by the way.”
Wendy stuck out her hand and when Trent took it she felt a glowing warmth seep into hers.
“Pleased to meet you—wait, why don’t you like lifts? You walked up ten flights?” Trent asked.
“Yeah, I’m used to it. I’ve got a kind of claustrophobic thing. Keeps me fit, though. Can I come in?” Wendy said enthusiastically.
Trent was a little lost for words, and she was never lost for words. She had been angry, but now a few short sentences later and she was showing Wendy in meekly. It was then that she noticed the guitar case. Why did she bring that?
Wendy stopped and spun around slowly, taking in the room. “Wow, great place you have here, Ms. Trent.”
The spin made her shift dress float up and Trent’s gaze lowered. God, Becca would say I chose her for her looks. Wait, she hadn’t given her the job yet.
“Call me Trent.”
Then Wendy spotted the children looking at her quizzically. She turned to Trent and said, “Can I go and say hello?”
“Of course, go ahead,” Trent said. None of the others had done that.
Wendy went over, put her guitar case on the floor, and immediately went down onto her knees in front of the kids.
“Hi, I’m Wendy. What’s your names?”
Trent looked on quizzically. Going down to the children’s level seemed to have an effect on Noah and Alice. Noah hugged her immediately and, to her surprise, Alice did too. People like Wendy, Becca, and Dale appeared to have a natural affinity with children, like she had missed some sort of class to show her how it was done.
“What’s in there?” Noah asked, pointing to the guitar case.
“That’s my guitar. I might show it to you later, but I have to go and talk to Ms. Trent first, okay?”
Trent felt a funny sensation as Wendy came back over to her. It was as if the room was lighter, and Trent’s knowing worry about her responsibility for the children lessened. Wendy had come in like a whirlwind and blown away some of the dark feelings hanging heavily between her and the children.
“Follow me, Wendy,” Trent said.
* * *
Wendy tapped her fingers on the arms of the chair while Trent silently looked over her résumé. She hated silences. Still it gave her a chance to look over the infamous Davina Trent.
Trent appeared every inch the tough alpha personality the media made her out to be. Sharp, short haircut, and even in her home wearing suit trousers, crisp shirt, and waistcoat. Kira was right—Trent was her cup of tea. Wendy had always gone for the boyish, butch type, but she had never met anyone like Trent before. She was more used to the surfer-skateboarder type, not the dapper kind.
Wendy’s eyes focused on the pen tapping on Trent’s bottom lip as she read, and she caught herself sighing wistfully. Trent had an intriguing kind of masculinity, which was softened at the edges just right. Her eyes were sparkling blue and her handsome face only made more attractive by the streaks of silver through her hair.
I wonder how old she is? The thought of a posh, suave, older woman made her stomach flip in a way it hadn’t in forever. She’d never been with an older woman, despite her secret fantasy. Her first and only love had been slightly younger than her in age, but hugely younger in maturity, and Wendy always felt like she had to be the adult in the relationship.
Wendy had never allowed herself to think about love or a relationship again. She’d had a few flings as she travelled around the world, but nothing stomach-flipping worthy, just sex. Pull yourself together, Wendy. This was a job, but at least she’d have something nice to look at while she worked.
Finally, Trent sat back in her seat and simply gave Wendy a firm gaze. She presumed that was the same look she gave in court and used to intimidate other lawyers.
“So, Wendy Darling. Interesting name,” Trent said.
“Yeah my dad thought it would be funny, which is strange because he never displayed much of a sense of humour.” Wendy laughed. She faltered when Trent didn’t even smile. Oh, great. Another person with a personality bypass, just like Mum and Dad.
Trent said eventually, “You have extremely good references, and an excellent résumé, Wendy.”
“Thank you,” Wendy said.
Trent kept leaving big pauses between her questions and those blue eyes continued staring straight at her. Wendy wondered how on earth Trent managed to be a parent to two kids and be so bloody uptight.
Trent leaned forward on the desk and clasped her hands. “I did wonder one thing, though. It says here you were at teacher training college and left in your last year. That could show a lack of commitment.”
Wendy frowned. “Nothing could be further from the truth, Trent. A personal matter came up that meant I had to leave, but I’m going back to complete my degree. That’s why this job suits me. My course doesn’t start till next summer, and the agency said you only needed a nanny short term.”
“That’s right,” Trent said.
Trent tapped her pen on the résumé, which Wendy noticed had various notes scribbled over it.
“Tell me, why is it important for you to finish your teaching degree?”
Wendy wasn’t expecting that question, and it gave her pause. She looked down at the desk because she feared her eyes would betray too much emotion. As much as her heart had healed from the circumstances that made her leave university, the emotions were still lurking there, and along with pain and anger, there was also the embarrassment of being taken in by someone and played like a fool.
She answered as honestly as she could. “Teaching was my dream. I love children and I love teaching them through play, imagination, and nurture. So many children go through their formative years without the proper nurturing they deserve. I’m passionate about it and want to make a difference in the lives of the children I teach.” Wendy looked up. “Why I had to give that up wasn’t my fault, but now I feel able to put myself first and become the person I want to be.”
“Hmm,” Trent said, “I understand dreams, but I can’t imagine dealing with children all day. It’s bad enough dealing with lawyers.”
Wendy couldn’t understand how on earth someone could have two children and take that attitude. “Don’t you like children? You have two beautiful—”
“Oh, good God, they’re not mine,” Trent said quickly. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”
“No, I assumed they were yours.”
“They are my cousin’s two children. He was killed in a car accident a few weeks ago, and I was his and the children’s next of kin,” Trent said.
“Oh,
I’m terribly sorry. Poor babies.”
“Yes, well, they were in the car and were incredibly lucky to survive. So it was me or foster care.”
“It’s so lucky they have you, then,” Wendy said.
A serious, almost panicked look came over Trent’s face. “I can’t take care of children. I’m a busy lawyer, plus I’m not a children person. No, I’m sending them to boarding school, but I can’t get them places for six months, and that’s why I need a nanny.”
Wendy couldn’t believe it. “Boarding school? But Noah is only six.”
“That’s really none of your concern. It is the only option. Besides, I was sent to boarding school at six.”
And it showed, Wendy thought. Ms. Trent couldn’t be that cold, could she? She took the kids in, after all.
“Your duties would be the twenty-four-hour care of the children. As I said, I’m very busy, and my work has been sorely neglected the past few weeks.”
Wendy might lose her chance at this job but she couldn’t stop herself from saying what was on her mind. “So you basically want to hand all responsibility to me?”
Trent’s jaws clenched in tension. “I’m doing the best I can for them, Ms. Darling. They have a very comfortable home, will want for nothing, and will be given the best of educations so they can make the best of their lives. That’s all I can do. I need to get on with my work and life, so that is why I’m willing to pay very well for a nanny to take up that caring role. Is that something you could do?”
Wendy could see in her mind’s eye all the steel walls Trent had built around herself, but she remembered one thing from when she was greeting the children. When she hugged Alice, Wendy looked up and saw Trent watching and biting her lip with tension. Something about that small hug triggered emotion in this stiff, tough lawyer. Maybe she could help build some bridges between her and the children.
“Yes, it is something I could do,” Wendy said.
She saw relief on Trent’s face. “When could you start? I have work on Monday and lots to catch up on.”
“I could pack tonight and start tomorrow.”
“Excellent. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” Trent held out her hand and Wendy shook it.
“Great.” She’d done it. A good paying job, both short term and providing a roof over her head.
Chapter Six
The next day Trent and the children picked up Wendy and drove her back to the apartment. Wendy chose to sit in the back seat of the car with the children, which Trent thought was strange, but when she looked into the driver’s mirror she saw Wendy holding both Alice and Noah’s hands.
That was quick, Trent thought. How did she bond so quickly?
But she supposed that was Wendy’s job, and she could breathe a sigh of relief that now her only responsibility was financial. As they drove, Trent couldn’t help but glance in the mirror and watch the interaction between Wendy and the children. Alice was still as quiet as ever, but Wendy kept engaging her in the conversation she was having with Noah, who was a chatterbox as always.
Wendy laughed at something Noah had said, and Trent gazed a little too long at her, before realizing the light had turned red. She braked quickly.
She saw terror in Alice’s eyes when she looked to the back seat. “I’m sorry about that.”
Wendy soon distracted her, but Trent kicked herself for being drawn in by Wendy’s good looks. Trent was surrounded by beautiful women most days, between her secretary, her clients, and her group of friends, but Wendy was so different, and so…young.
All the women she knew were well put together, but Wendy was undone, so natural, so carefree, in her dress and personality. Today, instead of a straw hat, Wendy wore a red headscarf with hummingbirds on it, fifties style, holding her hair from her face.
She chuckled to herself at what her own childhood nanny would think of Wendy. They couldn’t be more different. Trent pulled into the car park and said, “Here we are.”
“Home sweet home,” Wendy said to the children.
Trent shuddered. No, this is my life, my world. She got out quickly and got the bags, then looked around the back of the car just as Wendy was climbing out of the car door, giving her an eyeful of Wendy’s pert bottom in tight jeans.
God, Becca would definitely say she’d hired her for her looks.
Wendy helped the children out and joined her at the back of the car.
“Right, let’s go,” Trent said. “I’ll take the bags, if you hold on to Alice and Noah.”
“I…” Wendy stammered.
“What?” Trent asked.
Wendy indicated with her eyes over to the lift area. “I’ll take the stairs.”
Trent sighed. “Wendy, you can’t take the stairs all the time. What about when you’re coming and going with the children?” Tell me I haven’t picked the wrong nanny. “This lift has never broken down and I’ve lived here for five years.”
Alice tugged Wendy’s hand and said, “Are you scared?”
Wendy couldn’t show Alice irrational fear, when Alice had so many legitimate fears.
“No, no. I’m fine,” Wendy said.
They walked to the lift area, Wendy’s heart beating faster and her mouth drying up. The lift doors opened. Alice, Noah, and Trent walked in. Trent held out her hand to her and said, “You’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Wendy, you come with us?” Noah said.
“I sure will.” Wendy put on her most confident air. “I like to sing songs while I’m travelling in a lift. Do you two know the ‘Baby Shark’ song?”
“Yay,” both kids said happily.
“Baby shark?” Trent said.
“We’ll teach you, won’t we, kids?”
Distraction. Exactly what Wendy needed.
* * *
Wendy hung up the last of the clothes in the wardrobe and then slid her empty bags under the bed. By the time they had got back, it was the children’s bedtime. Trent offered to get them into bed while she got settled in.
Her bedroom was really comfortable with windows that gave her a great view over the Thames. Wendy had mostly worked in large homes before, not penthouse apartments, so she had never had to use a lift before.
It was uncomfortable, but she did it, and the bewildered look on Trent’s face and her subsequent laughter as they sang did a lot to distract from Wendy’s discomfort.
Luckily for her, the lift was extremely modern and had a video screen down to the concierge at reception, nothing like the steel coffin she had been trapped in as a child.
Trent had asked Wendy to join her in the living area once she was unpacked. So she walked out of her room, past the children’s rooms, and found Trent working on her laptop at the dining table by the kitchen area with a glass of wine.
“Wendy, come and sit down. I’ve a few things I need to go over with you,” Trent said.
She sat at the table and Trent stood. “Drink?”
“Uh, not while I’m on duty,” Wendy said.
“You’re not on duty till tomorrow morning. Have a glass,” Trent said.
“All right. Thank you.”
Trent got Wendy a glass and the bottle from the fridge. “Here you are.”
Wendy took a sip and the cold liquid tingled pleasantly in her mouth.
Trent picked up a notepad where she had written a long list. “Okay, first thing is school. I’ve had my secretary find out about local schools for the children, but as it’s midterm, it could take anything from six weeks or more to get them in.”
“That may be a blessing in disguise,” Wendy said. “Going straight back to school after such a trauma might be too much for them.”
“Hmm,” was all Trent said.
Surely she must have thought of that. These children would need a lot of help.
“So in the meantime—”
“I can help them with reading and writing, while they are at home with me. Don’t worry,” Wendy said.
Trent took a sip of wine and gazed at her. Was her boss trying to unnerve h
er?
“Thank you. Now, I’ve written down the alarm code, and the number to my credit card. I’ll order you another card, but use this for now for food shopping and anything the children or the house needs. I have an account with the local supermarket, so you can have food delivered.”
“Thanks, is there anything else Alice and Noah need immediately?” Wendy asked.
“Clothes—they brought very little with them. Their father David didn’t have much. He was a musician and lived from one gig to another, I think.”
“Okay, clothes, no problem. Is there anything else?” Wendy asked.
Trent pushed a set of keys across the table. “Take my spare set of keys to the flat. The fob on it is for the lifts and the car park—oh, and there’s a gym and pool that you are free to use. I’ll have my secretary hire a car for you tomorrow, something with lots of room.”
“Thank you,” Wendy said. “Are Alice and Noah going to see a counsellor or child psychologist?”
Trent sat back in her chair. “The social worker did mention it, but there’s a long waiting list apparently.”
“Don’t you think they should? They’ve just come through an unimaginable horror.”
“Private psychologist, you mean?” Trent said.
Wendy nodded. “I think it would really help prepare them for what’s ahead, leaving here and going to boarding school.”
Trent thought it was a great idea. She was providing them with everything they needed, care, emotional support, without having the responsibility herself. She didn’t need to feel guilty about anything any more. She could go to work and enjoy her private life knowing that her responsibilities were being met by other people.
“Good idea. Can you organize that for me?” Trent said.
“Yeah, I have a friend who is a school counsellor—she can give me a few names,” Wendy said.
Trent looked down her list. “Well, that’s everything I wanted to talk to you about. They’re all yours now.”
What a sense of relief it was to hand the children over to the nanny. She felt free, less constrained. Trent heard one of the bedroom doors open, and Noah walked out to the living area, dragging his blanket behind him and looking unsure.
