I persuade the girls to stay downstairs with the promise of chocolate cake when we return.
Sadie follows me up. We’re lucky that the house has had a loft conversion so she can have her own floor at the top, giving us all a bit of privacy. There are two bedrooms and a bathroom up here. It’s one of the reasons we fell in love with the house – we thought that when the girls are older, they’ll be able to have more space and privacy. It made the extra mortgage money worth it. And if times ever get tight, we can even rent out the rooms.
Yesterday Robert helped me to turn the larger of the two bedrooms into a makeshift lounge with an Ikea sofa, a small dining table and a TV. We put a mini fridge and kettle up here, too, so Sadie has her own little guest suite. We also cleaned the house from top to bottom, paying special attention to the girls’ rooms, which were an embarrassing mess. It’s ironic that we’ve employed someone to free up some more time, but then we’ve spent hours tidying and scrubbing the place before her arrival. My shoulders are still aching today. But it will be worth it, I tell myself.
‘It’s lovely,’ Sadie says, taking in the homely space. ‘Really nice. I didn’t expect to have all this to myself. In my last jobs, I’ve just had a bedroom and en suite shower.’
‘I’m so pleased you like it.’ It surprised me that she took the job without wanting to see her accommodation first, but I did describe it to her on the phone, and I guess some people aren’t that fussy about where they lay their head. ‘Tell, you what, why don’t I leave you up here to get settled, then you just come down when you’re ready. We’ll be in the kitchen.’
‘Perfect,’ Sadie replies. ‘Thank you for giving me the job. I think I’m going to love living here.’
I give her arm a squeeze. ‘And we’re going to love having you.’
As I walk back down the narrow stairs, I must admit I do feel strange having someone else in our house. But I tell myself that it will be worth it not to feel so frazzled about everything. I haven’t been coping with my work–life balance, but now things should hopefully start getting easier. I wonder how I’ll feel about asking Sadie to do things. I’m used to telling people what to do at work, but it will feel odd to treat Sadie like an employee when she’s living in our home. I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it.
Once we’ve all had tea and cake, the girls drag Sadie upstairs to show off their newly tidied rooms. Robert and I stare at one another across the kitchen table and break out into giggles.
‘Weird, isn’t it,’ he says.
‘I know. She’s nice though. And if it gets too weird we can always ask her to leave.’
‘I think it’ll be fine,’ Robert says.
We both cock our ears, listening for sounds from above. But all is quiet.
Half an hour later, Sadie comes back down the stairs. Robert is watching TV in the lounge and I’m in the kitchen pricing up a job on my laptop.
‘Sorry to disturb you,’ Sadie says. ‘I know it’s Sunday evening, and I’m not sure how you want to do things, but I’ve started them off on their homework, and checked their schoolbags for notes. Katie has to take in some recycling things to school tomorrow for a project, so I was wondering where your recycling—’
‘Recycling bin is in the utility room through here.’ I start to get up, but Sadie stops me.
‘No, it’s okay. Sit back down. This is what you employed me for. I may have to keep asking questions for the first few days, but soon you won’t even notice I’m here. I’ll come back down in half an hour to make a start on the girls’ supper. I’ll eat with them, if that’s okay?’
‘Erm, yes. That’s great.’ I’m pretty certain that if Sadie wasn’t here, the letter about the recycling would have remained unread in Katie’s bag until the end of term. Already, I’m feeling like a weight is being lifted. ‘I’ll go into the lounge, get out of your way,’ I say. ‘And please do help yourself to any food in the fridge or cupboards.’
‘Thanks.’ She goes into the utility room and I take myself and my laptop into the lounge where Robert is watching the football. No problem; background noise doesn’t bother me.
‘Everything okay?’ Robert asks.
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Everything’s fine. I think Sadie is going to work out brilliantly.’
Twenty-Three
The house is quiet. Still. Just the settling of pipes and the odd rattling window pane. I wipe down the last of the kitchen counters and exhale. My shoulders drop – a relief of sorts. I’m here. As jobs go, this one is pretty good. I have my own comfortable space, the mother is out for most of the day, and the kids aren’t too brattish.
I think back to last night when Gemma showed me the nanny accommodation, how proud she seemed of the space, like she was giving me the keys to a five-star hotel, rather than the servants’ quarters in the attic. Well, I’ll show her. Although I admit I did lay it on quite thickly – the whole unworldly, innocent act. I was so quietly spoken and serene, I’d forgive them for thinking I was fresh out of a nunnery. I really played up the whole I’m-happy-to-put-my-life-on-the-backburner-so-I-can-propel-your-offspring-into-greatness act. Does she truly believe I’m grateful? Swallowing down the rising bile in my gullet, I remember why I’m here. And it’s not for Gemma Ballantine.
I walk over to the dresser, where a letter rack sits overflowing with correspondence. I pick up the letters and take them to the kitchen table. Start flicking through them to see if there’s anything of interest. It’s mainly boring school stuff. There’s also an invitation to a charity dinner dance at the local golf club – that’s interesting. I file the information away in my brain as a possibility to use later.
For a supposed business woman, Gemma is very trusting. Sure, she did her due diligence by emailing her new nanny’s previous two ‘employers’, receiving glowing references from both the Hamilton family and the De Sousa family regarding their fantastic nanny, Sadie Lewis: ‘We loved her like she was part of the family.’ But neither the Hamiltons nor the De Sousas even exist. The email addresses were fake. I wrote the references myself. It’s laughable how simple it was to fool my new family. It’s scary how some people take everything at face value.
I think the Ballantines must be mad to allow a stranger into their home.
Especially a stranger like me.
Twenty-Four
As I drive home from work, instead of panicking about a half-finished task, or about running late, I realise that my mind is uncluttered. Today felt freeing. For the first time in ages I was able to concentrate on work without guilt. Without being pulled in two directions. Without worrying that I was going to have to leave early to do the school run because Robert has a client, or that one of the girls has left her PE kit at home. Instead, I was able to throw myself into my job, and it was a luxury. Knowing that Sadie is at home picking up the slack has taken a weight off my shoulders. I hate to admit it, but Diane was right. I was stretching myself too thin.