It took seven removal men and three removal vans to transfer my wardrobe from Alysha’s house to Fernando’s sprawling apartment in Beverly Hills, where I’d be staying. (What can I say? I’ve amassed a lot of outfits during my time here.) Luckily there was a lot of closet space at my new home, as I’d have it to myself. Fernando and Caesar had just got engaged. Caesar proposed in a typically dramatic fashion, by hiring a flash mob to accost Fernando on his way to work, with a choreographed dance routine to Barbra Streisand’s ‘What Are You Doing the Rest of Your Life?’. Naturally he made sure a photographer was on hand to capture Fernando’s shocked tears (and euphoric ‘yes’).
The happy couple were heading to England for three months while The Daily Juice launched a British version. ‘Do you know our proposal video is the most-clicked post The Daily Juice has had this year?’ boasted Fernando, flashing the huge diamond ring on his finger. ‘I wonder if we could get married at the Tower of London . . . imagine the photos!’
‘Don’t you dare stay there permanently,’ I warned, as I helped him fill six enormous packing cases with his beauty essentials. ‘As your maid of honour, I demand you have a Hollywood wedding, so I can help you taste-test wedding cake and argue with the flower arrangers.’
‘You should think about moving to Britain next, Linds,’ retorted Fernando. ‘There’s no shortage of cashed-up tots over there. And you never know, me and Caesar might need your services ourselves one day . . .’
Ah, so the rumours were true. The previous week the New York Post had run a story about Caesar’s plans to adopt a baby. I hadn’t told Fernando, but I was already planning a trip to England anyway. I was secretly hatching plans to open a British branch of the nanny academy. Alysha had already recommended me to some of her famous friends in London, including the members of a girl band who had recently all had babies in short succession. I’d even received an email with a royal emblem, asking me to attend an interview for a childcare position with a certain future king, despite the prince and princess saying they were ‘anti-nanny’.
It helped that my profile had been given an unlikely boost by the video of my Dolly Parton performance, which had gone viral, with over 700,000 hits on YouTube. My performance had been shown on every morning television show, and Saturday Night Live had even written a skit about it, with the real Dolly Parton playing me.
I was so distracted planning my new, exciting adventure that I had pushed all thoughts of romance to the back of my mind. I still hadn’t spoken to Will, and I hadn’t heard from Tommy since the day after the party. But this wasn’t the time to be distracted with boy problems.
‘Have you come up with a name for the business yet?’ asked Fernando as he taped up the last packing box. It was on the top of my to-do list but I just hadn’t been able to come up with anything snappy, despite a number of brainstorming sessions with Fernando. ‘Nanny School’ sounded too serious, ‘The Nanny Guru’ sounded too egotistical. I wanted a name that hinted I was skilful but also didn’t take myself too seriously.
‘I know, I know, I have to come up with it soon,’ I grimaced. ‘My web designer keeps emailing me every day because he wants to starts designing my logo. I just have this feeling inspiration will strike soon and I don’t want to rush into it.’
•
Two weeks after I left the Applebys I was sitting at my desk when the doorbell rang. ‘Hang on, I’m coming!’ I hollered. When I quit nannying I thought that I might miss having household staff, but in fact I loved being alone, not having chefs and chauffeurs to juggle. It was all so simple.
I didn’t think it was possible, but I was busier now than when I was a live-in nanny. I spent eight hours a day barricaded in Fernando’s study, excitedly writing lesson plans and answering questions from parents across the world who were interested in sending their nannies to me. I felt like I was a different person. I had even bought a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, because they made me feel ‘teacher-y’.
As I skipped down the hallway I saw the outline of a man’s silhouette in the doorway and assumed it was a delivery man. I knew my mum had sent me a care package with kikki.K stationery for my new office. She was so proud her daughter was an ‘entrepreneur’. I threw open the front door, expecting to see a uniform and clipboard.
‘What the hell?’ I felt like I’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
Will looked thinner and paler than the last time we met, although that might have been the jetlag. His jeans and checked shirt were crumpled and I suspected he’d come straight from the airport, as he had a large backpack at his feet. I did some fast mental calculations. ‘Aren’t you meant to be getting married next weekend? And how do you even know where I live?’
‘Your mum gave me your address,’ he answered. ‘Lindsay, I saw that video of you singing on the internet and since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. Lindsay, I’m in love with you.’
I’d clearly been living in Hollywood for too long, because my first thought was ‘This would make a great romantic comedy.’ My childhood sweetheart had travelled across the world to declare his love for me. It was the ultimate romantic gesture . . . so why didn’t I feel euphoric?
At one stage I’d been so sure this was what I wanted, but something didn’t feel quite right.
‘How can you say you’re in love with me when you think my life is ridiculous?’ I asked. ‘How can you want to be with me when you think I’m a gold-digger? Isn’t that how you described it?’
A look of confusion crossed Will’s face. It seemed he’d been expecting me to fall into his embrace. ‘But this isn’t the real you, Lindsay,’ he replied, gesturing to the apartment and my Ferrari California in the driveway. ‘You’re not part of this world. None of it is real—can’t you see that? It’s just a bunch of silly people living in a bubble.’
I thought of Fernando, my nanny friends and all the children I’d cared for, who were surrounded by fame but were loving and loyal. Even Alysha just wanted acceptance. Who were we to judge her? I’d spent a decade with ‘silly people’ like this, and they’d taught me more about myself than I ever thought possible. I’d learnt how strong and patient I could be under pressure. I’d learnt that money can’t buy you happiness, but it can make life a whole lot more comfortable. Most of all, I’d learnt that I wanted to be a mother myself one day—but not with Will.
‘Thank you for coming, Will,’ I told my oldest friend. ‘But I think it’s time you went back to your fiancée. I really don’t need to be rescued. If I ever want to leave this town, I can find my own way to the airport and carry my own luggage.’
I glimpsed Will’s expression turning to shock as I closed the door in his face. His hero moment clearly hadn’t gone the way he had planned. I felt like I was walking in slow motion as I made my way back to my office, hearing Will calling my name behind me. It was all so surreal. I half expected to see a television camera whirring in the corner, and a producer who’d scripted a speech for Will to follow.
And then suddenly the fog in my mind cleared and I knew exactly why Will’s declaration of love hadn’t felt like the music was swelling and credits were rolling, like I’d always thought it would. Where is it, where is it? I shuffled through a pile of papers on my desk and unearthed the card that had been attached to the bouquet of lilies. I grabbed my mobile and dialled the phone number written at the bottom of it.
I wasn’t surprised when it went straight to voicemail, because nobody in Hollywood answers calls from numbers they don’t recognise, so I left a message.
‘Tommy, I’ll take you up on that date. But I want fish and chips on the beach, and I’ll pay for my half. Let’s make it Sunday.’ If I was going to date a megastar then I’d do it on my terms. Tommy Grant could keep his wealth to himself, as long as he had a heart of gold.
Suddenly, I also knew exactly what I wanted to call my business. I grabbed a piece of paper from the printer and reached into
my desk drawer for a pen, but pulled out a pink colouring crayon. Oh well, that seemed appropriate. At the top of the paper I scrawled in an arch ‘The All-Star Nanny Academy’.
I wanted to groom the next generation of nannies to understand they’re just as important as the VIPs who hire them. A nanny may never receive an Oscar or a standing ovation, but we’re a vital brick in Hollywood’s streets of gold.
I didn’t know exactly where my career would take me next, but I planned to rip up the script and do things my way. It was time to be the leading lady in my own life. Lights, camera, action!
Acknowledgements
This book is dedicated to nannies around the world—whether you’re caring for children in Hollywood, London, Paris or New Delhi. I wanted to write this book to show that we don’t just spend our days playing pat-a-cake and hide-and-seek. Our role is important, complex and often dangerous. Our work is often underestimated and undervalued.
It’s easy to think that the amount we earn and the perks of the job make us privileged and pampered, but it’s good, solid work that we do each day. This job requires you to be unselfish, kind, compassionate, flexible, brave, reliable and strong. There are weeks when we feel helpless, lonely and just want to pack it in. But we don’t, and that’s what makes us the best at what we do.
There are many important jobs that exist behind the scenes that most people will never hear about—laboratory technicians who spend years developing life-saving machinery, pilots who hold the responsibility of flying people safely around the world, and personal assistants who carry out the hard daily grind so that their bosses can always appear cool and in control. Of course, nannies fit into this group too. Nannies thrive on the satisfaction of seeing happy and healthy little faces smiling up at us. We have a wonderful opportunity to help a growing population of the most beautiful humans on the planet. I’m privileged to have worked with many wonderful children throughout the course of my career.
I put up with difficult bosses and extreme demands because of the payback, both emotionally and financially. A career as an elite nanny can leave you rich in heart and mind, as well as in pocket.
I hope my nannying friends don’t think that I have sold out by writing this book. In revealing the weird world that we inhabit, I wanted to paint them as heroes. I’m sure elite nannies everywhere will have very similar experiences to my own, and I hope that they will be able to laugh at my experiences and be relieved they’re not alone.
I haven’t broken the nanny code of ethics, because I haven’t named and shamed any of my employers or their children.
I want to thank my former bosses, who knew that I was working on this book and were supportive. Some of my previous employers will recognise elements of themselves in the book, but all of the characters are works of fiction.
Philippa Christian
Philippa Christian has worked as a nanny for the rich and famous. Born and raised in Melbourne, she has lived and worked in Australia and worldwide. This is her first novel.
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