Secret Nanny Club (5 page)

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Authors: Marisa Mackle

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Samira didn’t show much interest in the idea and
simply shrugged when I told her where we were going. “Sheelagh’s au pair, Claudine, is eighteen too, and she’s from France,” I told her, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice.

Samira just shrugged. “Oh.”

I pretended not to notice her complete lack of interest
and continued talking. “So, anyway, Sheelagh’s little girl is nine months old and she lives nearby. I’m thinking it would be lovely for you and Claudine to take the prams along the seafront together if the weather is nice.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, examining her nails with a
look of boredom on her face.

I felt like giving her a shake. She just wasn’t showing
any enthusiasm. I hoped things would get better when we got around to Sheelagh’s. I found directions to her house on Google maps. It was a nice terraced house that had been newly painted and carpeted. Sheelagh was a short, lovely bubbly woman of around thirty-eight years of age with a big welcoming smile on her face. She gave myself and Samira a hug and then cooed over John, telling me what a gorgeous, bonny baby he was. I was surprised to hear her Scottish accent as I had just presumed she was Irish.

“No, I’m from Aberdeen and I’ve been living here
four years now,” she laughed.

“Your house is really cute, like something straight out
of an interiors magazine.” I looked around in appreciation.

“Thank you!”

“Where’s your baby?” I then said. “Is she asleep?”

“Yeah, Lisa’s asleep at the moment and Claudine has
gone out for a jog. She loves running by the sea as she is from inland France. Living by the sea is a huge treat for her. She tells me it’s like being on holiday all the time.”

I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit envious of
Sheelagh with her sprightly au pair. It would be lovely to have somebody positive looking after your child. I was already becoming tired of Samira’s permanently gloomy face.

We sat down in
Sheelagh’s homely kitchen as she made us tea and produced a homemade carrot cake. I was very impressed.

Mmm
m
. I’ll have to get the recipe for this cake from you,” I said after taking a mouthful and savouring it. “This is truly delicious. You could give that one Nigella Lawson a run for her money!”

Beside me, Samira slowly ate her slice of cake but didn’t
make any comment about it.

“I used to be a full-time pastry chef before I moved to
Ireland,” Sheelagh told me. “Now I work four days a week part-time in a café in Dún Laoghaire. I bake scones and cakes in the back kitchen and the café sells them to the lunchtime crowd. They’re quite popular even though I say so myself!”

“You know, you should really think about selling
these to a few places. You could make a fortune.”

Sheelagh
gave a little smile. “I might do that. People have said before that I should start my own business, but I’ve never really had the confidence and then . . . well, with my separation and everything . . .”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were separated.”

A flicker of hurt seemed to flash across her face. Just for a split second. I hoped I wasn’t making her feel uncomfortable. After all, I’d only just met the woman fifteen minutes ago. We were interrupted by somebody coming through the door. It was obviously Claudine. She rushed over to me and shook my hand. Then she shook Samira’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she said, brimming with goodwill. She was a little out of breath from her run and her cheeks were slightly rosy. She was tall and slender with glossy hair tied back in a high ponytail and looked the picture of good health.

“Have some cake,”
Sheelagh offered.

“Thank you, but maybe later,” Claudine answered
sweetly. She went to the sink and poured herself a glass of tap water. “I think I might have an apple instead.”

Sheelagh
and myself exchanged glances. It was obvious the lovely Claudine minded her figure well. No wonder she was as slim as a whippet!

As Claudine was drinking her water we could hear
Lisa starting to cry in the next room. Quick as a flash she put down her glass. “You stay there,” she told Sheelagh, “and I’ll get her up.”

She was so different from Samira, I thought. So far,
Samira was always looking to me for direction – it was rare that she showed initiative. The next moment Claudine was

back
in the kitchen cradling little Lisa in her arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off the little girl – she was so beautiful with huge blue eyes underneath long black eyelashes.

“Wow! She’s going to be such a stunner when she
grows up! A supermodel in the making!” I laughed.

“Aw, thanks. She gets those Irish blue eyes from her
daddy. I wonder if she’ll be a charmer like him too?”

John seemed delighted to see somebody else as small
as himself and reached out to little Lisa.

“Why don’t you girls take the babies into the playroom?”
said Sheelagh. “There’s lots of cuddly toys on the play mat for them, and you can get to know each other too.”

Claudine said she thought it was a great idea. Samira
stood up and I handed John to her. Once they were gone I turned to Sheelagh. “Claudine’s a star,” I said. “What a find!”

“I know. I’m so lucky to have her. I hope she stays
with us for a good while longer. I’ll have to bribe her if she ever tries to leave! So, how long have you had Samira? She seems quiet. Is she shy?”

“Only a few days.
It’s hard to read her. I mean, she’s being very quiet here but maybe that’s because she’s shy in front of you and Claudine. But she does keep to herself a lot to be honest, and yet she is always asking me unnecessary questions. I don’t know whether that’s her trying to practise her English, or whether she genuinely is a bit clueless.”

“You should read to her in the evenings, maybe even
for a half an hour or so. Just to help her with her English. I do that with Claudine and I explain the words she doesn’t understand. She really appreciates it.”

“I did try that once but she wasn’t very bothered. I
don’t think she really enjoys being a child minder to be honest. She was working for another family before she came to live with us and she didn’t get on with them. Mind you, I’m not really surprised about that. They sounded absolutely awful.”

“Well, remember you’re only hearing her side of the
story. They might not have been that bad.”

“I know, but they really seemed to have been taking her
for granted. I don’t agree with abusing au pairs. We were all young once, and it can be scary moving to a new country

without
your safe network of friends and family.”

Sheelagh
sighed. “It’s difficult to find the right girl. Before Claudine came along I had an American girl who ran up huge phone bills and ate me out of house and home. I couldn’t afford to keep her. I’m so lucky I found Claudine.”

“Did you go through an agency for her?”

“Well, no, actually – my sister-in law told me that her au pair had a friend in France who wanted to come to Dublin and learn English so she asked me if she could forward Claudine’s CV to me for consideration. I have to say her CV was more than impressive. Claudine was head girl in her school, played junior tennis at national level and is studying child psychology.”

I gulped. Suddenly I felt absolutely awful. I had never
asked Samira for a CV. I didn’t even know if she had ever gone to school or had a single hobby. Oh, God, did that make me the worst employer ever? I sensed a sort of shame creeping over me. I should have demanded a CV from Samira. Then again, she was only eighteen. I doubt she’d ever had a real job before coming to Ireland. “So I liked the look of her CV,” Sheelagh continued, now getting up to put the empty teacups in the dishwasher, “and then when I checked with both her referees, I was absolutely convinced that this girl was going to be the right one for our family.”

Okay, now I felt sick. I hadn’t asked Samira for any
references. Sheelagh had phoned two people. She had obviously wanted to be doubly sure of who she was hiring. Sheelagh was a good mother and I was not. I really did feel bad about myself. Samira could have been a school drop-out or a social delinquent, yet I had chosen to put her in charge of the person I was supposed to love more than anyone else in the whole world. I was not fit to be anybody’s mum. Sheelagh then looked over at me. “So how did you find Samira?”

“Um . . . she had put up an ad in the supermarket and
I just happened to come across it.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, at least you didn’t have to pay an
agency fee. They can be pretty hefty.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I squirmed in my chair. Suddenly I wanted to get out of there and hide away somewhere I could mentally give myself a kick. This woman obviously thought I was too stingy to go through a proper nanny agency that would probably have produced a golden girl who had won all sorts of medals and could speak five different languages and maybe was in her final year of medicine or something.

“Gosh, I never even asked you if you would like
another cup of tea! I just cleared the cups away without even thinking. That’s my baby brain at work now. I’m sorry for being rude. I can put the kettle on again if you like?”

“Oh no, I’m fine honestly. Actually, is it okay if I use
your bathroom, please?”

“Sure, it’s just in the hall under the stairs.”

As soon as I closed the door behind me I took a deep
breath. Sheelagh’s little cloakroom, like the rest of this house, was immaculate. The floor looked like it had been polished, the white hand towel was soft and luxurious, and a brand-new Molton Brown liquid soap and hand lotion perched on top of the sink. How did she have her house so perfect? Why did she have the nicest au pair ever? And why was I being so pathetic as to compare myself unfavourably to a practical stranger? Stop it, I chided myself. Seriously, get a grip. You can only do your best. Samira may never be runner-up for best au pair in the world but there’s nothing wrong with her. You make it work.

I splashed some cold water on my face and then
washed my hands. I was almost afraid to wipe them on the fluffy white towel afterwards.

“Well, the girls seem to be getting on great,” beamed
Sheelagh when I came back into the kitchen. “I just popped my head in the door and they’re laughing and chatting like old friends.”

“Really?”
I was surprised. I’m not sure if that small revelation was supposed to make me feel better or worse.

“You must come over again. Or maybe we could go
over to you? What do you think?”

“Yeah, brilliant, any time!’

“Maybe Claudine can take Samira and little John to
the mummy and baby yoga classes in the town?”

“Mummy and baby yoga?”
I raised an eyebrow.

“Yup, the classes are held twice a week there on the
main street above that café that recently opened. I’ve gone a couple of times but half the grown-ups that attend are au pairs as the mummies don’t have time to go. I’d say Samira would love it!’

I wasn’t so sure about that but I said I’d suggest the
idea to her anyway. To be honest I wasn’t really sure if herself and the bubbly Claudine would become pally, but I hoped that Sheelagh and myself would become firm friends. I admired her and I wanted to know her more. Hopefully she would be a positive role model for me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

You know when you’re so tired you can’t even speak
properly, never mind being able to remember things or even think of anything besides crawling back to bed? Well, that’s what it’s like having a new baby. It’s like working through the night, only worse. Because if you’re

a
shift worker, or indeed if you’ve even been out all night partying, you know that sleep will be yours soon. You count the hours until you can crawl under the duvet and block out the world. When you’ve a newborn, that much anticipated moment never comes. Night after night is lost in a fog of tiredness. And there is no overtime pay. No pat on the back. Just more of the same for the next few months.

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