The Nanny

by Melissa Nathan

  And every evening he’d have to listen to Vanessa and Dick arguing about giving up on Jo and getting a new nanny. Vanessa was adamant Jo was coming back, Dick was concerned that she wasn’t and they’d never find a nanny as good as she, or one who would stay. One evening when Dick had suggested that maybe after all, the children just needed their mother, they’d had the biggest row he’d ever heard.

  After work, Josh climbed up the steps from Highgate Station, slowly but surely, and made his way to his dad’s shop. Although there was a light drizzle, the spring evening smelled of flowers trying to bud. There was an almost tangible optimism in the air, like God’s own version of supermarket’s baked bread and Muzak. Summer would be here before he knew it. And yet he was depressed. He watched the traffic as he paced through Highgate. Weird, he thought as he neared the shop. I never noticed how popular white Clios were before.

  Jo wiped her mother’s mouth gently with the napkin and put the spoon back in the bowl.

  “There,” she said. “Well done. Can you believe Dad made it out of his own brain?”

  Her mother smiled a slow wonky smile that squeezed at Jo’s heart.

  “He never even knew there was such a thing as a parsnip before making it,” Jo said briskly. “You almost had parsnip soup without the parsnip.”

  Hilda laughed as Jo put the bowl on her bedside table.

  “Do you want to wait a bit before you move on to the cheese and crackers?”

  Hilda nodded.

  “Sheila still hasn’t called back,” said Jo quietly. Hilda looked at her. “I think I upset her when I was in London,” she explained. “Didn’t call enough. Made her feel used.” She looked up at her mum. “I don’t think I called anyone enough,” she whispered. Very slowly, Hilda lifted her hand and placed it on Jo’s. They exchanged thin smiles. Jo picked up the plate with the cheese and crackers.

  “Right,” she said. “Tell me when you’ve had enough.”

  They’d phoned! Three o’clock on the Friday before Vanessa was due back and they’d phoned! It had taken them two weeks to need her, but need her they did! Vanessa was buzzing. She had a deadline—Max wanted some facts and figures that only she could provide, and he wanted them fast. “Fucking fast,” in fact. Tra bloody la, thought Vanessa. A few emergency phone calls and she was back in the driver’s seat. Tallulah sat with Mummy at the kitchen table and pretended to be an advertising accounts manager while Vanessa delegated the most basic of jobs and got one of the most efficient PAs she’d ever had. Better still, it stopped Vanessa thinking too much about Anthony, her marriage, her responsibilities, and the mess she was making of her life.

  “Thanks for coming straight from work,” said Dick to Josh. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Anytime, Dad,” said Josh. “You must know that.”

  “Yes but on a Friday,” said Dick. “I know all you city types usually go out for a well-deserved drink—”

  “Yeah and I hate it. I’d much rather be here.”

  Josh never ceased to be amazed that his father didn’t realize that he’d probably swallow fire for him. That’s the way parenting works. Children could smell parental love like dogs could smell fear. Love your child unconditionally and they could one day leap up and ferociously attack you. Act as if you don’t really care, and they slavishly adore you.

  “What’s the latest, Dad?” he asked.

  Dick sighed. “I’m giving up on Jackie.”

  Josh stared at his father, then started nodding slowly.

  “I can’t rely on her anymore,” said Dick. “And I may not have the time. I need someone I can really rely on. Someone I can trust.”

  “Mm?”

  Dick grinned at his son. “You’re going to make me ask you, aren’t you?”

  Josh mirrored his father’s grin. “Oh yes.”

  “Josh.”

  “Dad.”

  “I’m sacking my accountant. Please will you do my accounts?”

  Josh sucked in air and shook his head, pretending to consider.

  “Of course I’d pay you!” rushed Dick.

  “Don’t be ridiculous—”

  “I’m not being ridiculous,” said Dick. “I have, amazingly enough, still got my pride. God knows how, but—”

  “Dad, it would be like a hobby for me—I mean, I’d love to actually keep the books for a place I care about instead of some massive, faceless company—”

  “Well we certainly aren’t massive.”

  “I don’t want the money.”

  “Stop it, Josh—you’re doing more than enough already.”

  “Hardly. And as we both know, if it wasn’t for that bloody stupid n—”

  “It wasn’t Jo’s fault—”

  “I know!” broke in Josh, astonished. “I was going to say that stupid night, not that stupid nanny. If it wasn’t for that stupid night and me being a prize moron, we’d be in a much better position—you’d be in a much better position. It’s my fault, so the least I can do is help out.”

  “I’m very grateful. Please look at my books and let me know if it’s worth carrying on. I can’t live like this for much longer.”

  “You’ll take my professional opinion?” asked Josh.

  “Of course.”

  “But…you didn’t when I told you not to fall for Jackie’s sales pitch. Remember?”

  Dick smiled. “You were still studying then. Give me a break.”

  “I just needed to check.”

  “I trust and respect your professional opinion.”

  “Wow,” said Josh. “And what will you do if I suggest the worst?”

  Dick took a deep breath. “Sell.”

  “And then what?”

  “I’ll jump off that bridge when I come to it,” said Dick. “One thing at a time, eh?”

  Josh nodded again. Dick came across and shook his new accountant by the hand.

  Friday evening and Jo was more nervous about seeing Shaun than she had been when he visited her in London. Still at home, she brought down the dinner tray and placed it on the kitchen table. Her dad, wearing a pinny, put the dinner plates straight in the sink.

  “Oh good,” he said, looking at Hilda’s leftovers. “She’s eating much more isn’t she?”

  “Well it’s so delicious,” Jo said, looking up at the kitchen clock.

  “It’s Nigella.”

  “Ah.”

  “Will you give me a hand carrying the TV upstairs before you go, love?” asked her dad. “She wants to watch Midsomer Murders.”

  “Course.”

  “I don’t want to make you late for Shaun,” he added.

  “No worries. He took long enough to call me back.”

  Bill followed her into the lounge. “You’re not playing games with him, are you? Men don’t like that.”

  “Dad,” breathed Jo, lifting the TV. “How old am I?”

  “Old enough to know better. Steady.”

  “No, that’s you. I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I’ve got it, stop pushing.”

  “Alright alright. Left a bit. I just don’t like to see a good man treated badly.”

  Jo decided to concentrate on maneuevering the television round the tight corner of the stairs instead of maneuvering her father round the twisted corners of her mind. Half an hour later, she lounged upstairs on her mum’s bed watching TV, while her dad chatted to Shaun downstairs.

  “Don’t…stay…” murmured Hilda.

  “I suppose I’d better go,” agreed Jo. “Before Dad bores the pants off him. Have a good night. Enjoy the TV.”

  As she got to the door, she turned round and looked at her mother. Hilda opened her eyes wide.

  “Good…luck,” she whispered.

  Jo smiled and made her way downstairs.

  She stood outside the lounge for a second before opening the door. She was terrified of Shaun being indifferent to her, cold or just strange.

  She needn’t have worried. He looked terrified.

  “Alright?” he said.

&
nbsp; “Alright.”

  There was a pause.

  “Right, well,” said Bill, leaving the lounge. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it.”

  They all went to the hall, Bill going upstairs as they opened the front door. “See you when we see you Jo,” he called from the stairs.

  Jo considered smiling at Shaun, but didn’t.

  “They’re watching what my mother wants on TV tonight,” she explained to the cold spring evening.

  “Oh.”

  “Quite a night, as you can imagine.”

  Shaun did something in between a smile and a laugh.

  By the time they reached the restaurant, Jo was beginning to fear that Shaun was planning to propose again. All the signs were there—he’d gone quiet and pale like the other times, and she was filled with a vague sense of foreboding.

  They sat down at their restaurant table and faced each other.

  “Jo,” started Shaun.

  “Don’t, please—”

  “Don’t what?”

  There was a pause.

  “I don’t know,” said Jo. “Sorry. What were you going to say?”

  “Don’t what?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Then don’t what?”

  The waiter appeared.

  “Would you like some drinks?” he asked.

  “Yes,” they said.

  The waiter took their orders, and they started again.

  “Jo,” said Shaun.

  Jo took a deep breath.

  “Yes,” she answered with a bright smile.

  “I’m not going to propose again.”

  She let out a heavy sigh of relief.

  “After this one last time,” he finished.

  She stopped breathing altogether.

  “I don’t understand what’s happening in your world,” he said, gesturing vaguely near her head. “I don’t know how you’re feeling, I don’t know why you went to London, I don’t even know what you think of me anymore.”

  “I—”

  “Let me finish, please, Jo.”

  “Sorry.”

  “All I know is that I can’t go on like this any longer.”

  “God, I’m sorry—”

  “Please, let me finish.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s really very simple, Jo.”

  She blinked and waited.

  “You either want to be with me or you don’t.”

  She blinked again.

  “You either want to marry me or you don’t.”

  She nodded.

  “You just have to tell me so I can get on with my life.”

  She blinked and nodded.

  “So,” he said. “You have to decide.”

  She stared at him.

  “What’s it to be, Jo?”

  The waiter appeared. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes,” said Shaun.

  “No,” said Jo.

  “I’ll come back when you’re both ready,” said the waiter.

  Jo looked at Shaun.

  “I love you Shaun,” she whispered.

  She saw him take a deep breath.

  “But I can’t marry you.”

  She watched him let out a heavy sigh.

  As they sat there, she realized Shaun was right. It had been very simple after all. Now all she had to do was work out who was going to help her make big decisions like that in future.

  After the last meal Jo and Shaun were to have together, it occurred to Jo that she had never loved him more than she did then. When he asked for the bill, she loved him for his quiet ability to take control; when he helped her into her coat, she loved him for his little gentlemanly acts. When he drove her home, she loved him for his kindness. When he kissed her gently on her lips for the last time, she loved him for having shared an intimate world with her. Sitting in the passenger seat of his car, she began to ache with loneliness.

  “Bye, Shaun,” she said, sniffing.

  “Bye, Jo. Always remember that I love you.”

  She got out of the car and walked to her parents’ house.

  She shut the front door and leaned against it. She could see a crack of light from upstairs, which meant that her parents were still awake. She knew they hadn’t expected her to come home that night and yet at the same time, they had. She climbed the stairs. When she reached the top, she heard her father call out from their bedroom. She tapped on their door.

  “Come in,” he called.

  Her parents were sitting up in bed together, a sight that made her feel envious and comforted at the same time.

  “Your mother wants to know if you had a good evening,” said her father. “I told her to mind her own business, but…”

  Jo sighed and nodded, the tears speaking for themselves.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said eventually. “Night.”

  “Your mother says to tell you we’re here if you need us,” her father said gruffly.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Her mother made a gesture with her right hand. Jo waited.

  “No…matter…what,” whispered Hilda.

  Jo smiled at them both and blew them both a kiss. She shut their bedroom door behind her and went to bed.

  Chapter 20

  Monday morning came bright and breezy. Hilda had come downstairs for the first time since her stroke. Jo had been home for two whole weeks and it felt like she’d never been away; the sun was out, and it looked like summer was coming early. Which, of course, meant it would rain the next day.

  Jo had phoned Vanessa the night before to explain that she couldn’t come back yet, but would as soon as her mother was able to walk upstairs unaided. She’d begged Vanessa to keep her job open for her and told her how much she missed them all, and had felt hugely relieved when Vanessa had sounded emphatic about wanting her to come back whenever she was ready. She’d even alluded to giving Jo a raise. But Jo had felt as if she was phoning another world. She wondered who else in the family was in the room while Vanessa spoke to her and felt a yearning to be there.

  Without a downstairs toilet in their house, Hilda either had to stay upstairs twenty-four hours a day or start using a commode. She had gone for the latter option and Jo had offered to be her commode emptier—“just like in the olden days,” she’d winked at her mum—when Bill had proved too squeamish. Jo was happy to do it as long as he kept up the cooking regime. She was convinced her mum would improve fast—she could sense her fingers itching to get back to feeding her father, especially after a night when he’d made himself steak and chips.

  While Bill settled Hilda into his armchair, Jo put the kettle and her mobile on for the first time that day. While she was pouring hot water into the pot for her parents and the new cafetière she’d bought for herself, her mobile rang.

  At first she didn’t recognize Pippa’s voice, but once she did, she was delighted to feel a surge of warmth toward her new friend. After a whole fortnight away from London, Jo was relying on her gut instinct to see if her life there had been genuinely good or had been her putting on a brave face. She had wanted to phone Pippa often, but had felt too guilty about phoning her before speaking to Sheila. She could have hugged Pippa.

  “Hi, stranger!” cried Pippa.

  “Hi!” Jo almost laughed the word out. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine! I’m having sex! With a policeman!”

  “Which one?”

  “Nick, of course! I’ve been Nicked!’

  “So you’re going out with him now?”

  “Um,” said Pippa. “Actually I’m staying in with him, more than going out with him. If you get my drift.”

  “I’m so pleased for you, Pip.”

  “Well, it was all due to you.”

  “Don’t be daft. I only introduced you. The rest was all your own work.”

  “I know. And I owe you big-time. We really miss you!” said Pippa. “When are you coming back?”

  “Oh God, I miss you, too!” replied Jo. And then, inexp
licably, her happiness tipped over straight into misery. Like a baby trying to hide the fact that she’s ready for bed, Jo suddenly found herself crying. She decided it would be a fine time to tell Pippa about Shaun and her.

  “What shall I tell Nick?” asked Pippa, after making all the right noises, then leaving a long enough pause.

  “Why?” Jo sniffed.

  “Because, honey, Gerry’s still after you,” explained Pippa. “And he’s a cop who’s used to getting what he wants.”

  “God,” sniffed Jo. “How terrifying.”

  “I’m just letting you know the way the land lies in Boy World.”

  “Does it make any difference what I want?”

  “Apparently you don’t know what you want.”

  Jo sucked in some air. “That’s outrageous!”

  “They had a bet on you and Shaun finishing before summer, and Gerry getting in there before autumn.”

  “Oh God.” Jo closed her eyes. “You’ve put me right off my breakfast.”

  “I told Nick you weren’t interested,” continued Pippa, “but he said you may have been playing hard to get and not telling me the truth.”

  “I wasn’t interested,” said Jo slowly and clearly, “I wasn’t playing hard to get, and I was telling the truth.”

  “That’s what I said. I told him girls don’t think like boys.”

  “Thank God.”

  “He said everyone thinks like boys, girls just hide it better.”

  Jo made a face into the phone. “You have a very special man there, Phillipa.”

  “I know,” said Pippa. “And he’s good in bed.”

  “He’d better be.”

  “I’ll tell him to tell Gerry you’re not interested.”

  “Whatever.”