Mad About You (9 page)

‘Great reference.’ I handed it back. ‘The job will also involve doing some light housework and cooking simple meals for the children. How does that sound?’

Claire smiled. ‘No problem. I cook for my mum all the time. Not fancy food, just spaghetti bolognese and roast chicken, that kind of thing.’

‘Perfect.’ I smiled at her. I liked this girl. She was very sweet and gentle. But she seemed very young. Would she be able to manage Yuri and Lara when they had a tantrum?

‘How would you deal with a child in meltdown?’ I asked.

‘Lots of the children had meltdowns in the playschool. I think the best way to deal with them is to distract the child. I find it works every time.’

Great answer! She was a pro. The more she spoke, the more I liked her and the more competent she seemed.

‘What would you do if one of the children was really bold?’

Claire became animated. ‘I watch
Supernanny
all the time and I think she’s brilliant. I’d use the naughty step and crouch down to explain to them why they were on it, then always reward good behaviour.’

Was she kidding me? This girl was perfect. I watched
Supernanny
to make myself feel better about my parenting. The kids on the show were so badly behaved that I always reckoned I must be doing something right as mine weren’t nearly that bad. And we had a naughty chair that I used when the children were bold. Claire was exactly what I was looking for. I beamed at her.

James stood up. ‘I’m sorry, but I really have to go. Nice to meet you, Claire.’ He held out his hand. She shook it shyly.

I walked to the front door with James. ‘What do you think?’ I whispered.

He shrugged. ‘She seems nice, a bit shy, though. I’d worry she’d be too quiet for the children. We want them to have fun. I’d like someone a bit livelier.’

‘I think she’s perfect. I don’t want some loud, over-confident person in the house. I like the fact that she’s quiet and gentle and her reference is brilliant and she watches
Supernanny
!’

‘Please tell me you’re not going to hire someone because they watch a TV programme that you like.’

‘Of course not,’ I lied.

James stepped outside. ‘I’ve got to go. Don’t offer her the job immediately. Let’s talk about it later. Say you’ll call her tomorrow.’

I went back inside to talk to Claire. I had made up my mind to offer her the job. After all, I was the one who was going to be dealing with her most. James would be at work. I
trusted myself more than anyone else when it came to the kids. She’d be kind and caring, and that was exactly what I wanted for them.

‘You’re hired,’ I said, holding out my hand to shake hers.

Claire jumped up from her seat. ‘Really?’ She grasped my hand eagerly.

‘Absolutely. I want someone nice taking care of my children, and the fact that you’re Irish is a bonus. It’ll help them feel more at home.’

‘Wow! I’m so thrilled! Thank you.’ Claire blushed again.

‘Can you stay for a bit? I’d like you to meet Yuri and Lara. They’re just over with my neighbour. Come and say hello.’

I brought Claire around to Carol’s house, where Yuri and Lara were having a ball with Carol’s two boys, digging up vegetables and playing with watering cans. I introduced Claire to Carol and then to the children.

She muttered a greeting to Carol, then crouched down and shook Yuri and Lara’s hands. ‘What are you guys doing?’ she asked.

They explained, and she asked if she could help. Within a minute, Claire was happily playing with the children, crawling about in the mud, regardless of her clothes. I could see she had a way with children. She seemed more comfortable in their company. She wasn’t shy or quiet with them. She was lovely, gentle but fun too. I watched her help Lara fill the watering can.

‘She seems very nice,’ Carol said.

‘I’ve just hired her. I think she’s absolutely perfect. Now I can go to work and not have to worry.’

‘And you’ll always have me next door in case of emergencies. Be sure to tell her she can call on me anytime,’ Carol said.

‘Thanks. Really, thanks for being such a nice neighbour. I’m so glad you’re next door.’

Carol smiled. ‘You’re welcome.’

I heard Lara ask Claire if she was their new minder.

‘Yes,’ Claire said.

Lara looked her up and down. ‘Well, you’re not beautiful like a princess, but you’re a very good helper.’

Claire had the royal seal of approval.

The following Monday, I woke up with a pit in my stomach. It was my first day at work and, worse, it was the children’s first day at school. Yuri kept asking me who he was going to play with. He was so anxious about his new class and, although I kept trying to reassure him, I could see he was scared at the prospect of a new place and new children. My heart was breaking for him. I had to will myself not to give in and keep them both at home.

After Claire’s tale of being bullied, I was even more worried about the new school. I’d have to keep a close eye on Yuri and Lara to make sure it didn’t happen to them. The good thing was that they had taken to Claire. In the short time she’d been in their lives, they had become really fond of her. She had come in for a few hours each day, since Wednesday, so they could get used to her and, so far, she had been great with them – taking them to the park, doing Lego and jigsaws with them, painting and baking. I was so relieved to have found her. I knew the children would be happy in her care, which made me feel a little less guilty about going to work so soon.

From today onwards, Claire would be picking them up from school at twelve thirty and bringing them home. I was hoping to be back by five thirty. James was working late a lot, so his times were unpredictable. He was obsessed with winning his first game in three weeks’ time, and I could see the pressure he was under so I tried not to nag him about being in work all the time, but it did bother me. I was lonely. I had
changed my outfit five times by eight a.m. It was ridiculous, but I wanted to look nice and not as if I was trying too hard, for both the school gate and for work. In the end I opted for a lilac sundress with a cream cardigan and silver ballet pumps. I rarely wore heels to work because makeup artists spend most of their time standing, so comfortable footwear was essential. I had applied my makeup very carefully so I looked fresh and glowy. I appraised my image in the mirror and decided it would do. I could relate to how Yuri was feeling – I was nervous of all the newness, too.

I decided to send Lucy a photo of my outfit and ask her opinion. We had barely spoken since the dinner – she’d been swamped with work and I was sure she was avoiding me because she knew I’d bring it up. She texted back:
Perfect, mad busy, b in touch soon
. I replied,
We must meet up, let me know when u r free
. She didn’t reply.

I went downstairs and found Claire chatting to the kids while giving them their breakfast. She had agreed to come in early two days a week to do laundry and light housework. James was trying to make conversation with her.

‘Do you live around here?’ he asked.

Claire nodded. ‘Shepherd’s Bush.’

‘Excellent. It’s just you and your mother, is it?’

‘Yes.’ Claire went back to encouraging Lara to eat. ‘Come on, one more for the elephants … one more for the zebras …’

James whistled when he saw me. ‘Wow.’

‘I like your dress, Mummy,’ Lara said, between spoonfuls.

‘You look great,’ Claire added.

‘Thanks, guys. I need all the confidence I can get today.’

‘Right, well, I’m off. Good luck today, everyone, on your first days. I know you’ll all be fine.’ James kissed the children and me, then headed off to work.

It was incredible. He just strolled out of the door without
a backward glance. While I was feeling physically sick about the children’s first day, guilty about working, fretting about Claire being the right person to look after them and worrying about all the things that could go wrong, James was off to work, thinking only of his day. Men just didn’t do guilt. Lucy had been right when she’d said that if she was a man no one would question her focus on work and her lack of guilt. Oh, to be a man … or a Lucy.

I put down my toast. I couldn’t face eating anything: my stomach was doing too many somersaults.

After breakfast, Claire helped me get Yuri and Lara into their jackets. I asked her to take a picture on my phone of the three of us. As I hugged my two children close, I could feel my eyes welling with tears. This was a first day for all of us – new school, new job, new life.

As we left, I reminded Claire to collect them at twelve thirty sharp. ‘I’ll call you when I get a break. I’ll be dying to know how their first day went. I feel terrible I won’t be there.’ I tried to hide how emotional I was feeling about it. I felt sick that I couldn’t collect them on their first day, but I could hardly ask to leave work early on my own first day.

‘Don’t worry, Emma, they’ll be fine,’ Claire reassured me. ‘I’ll fill you in on every little detail when you get home.’

Yuri and Lara hugged Claire tightly, then we left her to tidy up.

As we walked the ten minutes to Mrs Roberts’s Montessori school, Yuri kept asking me if Connor might be there.

‘Yuri, I’ve told you, darling. Connor lives in Dublin and we live in London now. But there will be lots of new children to play with. It’ll be great fun, I promise.’

Lara skipped along beside me. ‘I can’t wait to go to school, Mummy. I’m a big girl now, isn’t I?’

‘Yes, sweetie, you are, a very big girl.’

As we approached the gates, we were greeted by the unmistakable sounds of post-holiday catching up. Mothers and children swarmed everywhere, with most of the kids shrieking wildly. Some little ones were crying and clinging to their mothers’ legs, but most were already back in school mode, racing around, bags sliding down their shoulders and shirts coming untucked. The women were squealing hellos, kissing each other and talking animatedly about their summer holidays. They all seemed to know each other. There was lots of laughter and camaraderie. I felt as if we were behind a glass wall, watching it all as spectators, very much on the outside.

I was glad I’d dressed up. Most of the mothers were very stylish and well groomed. They had perfected the smart-casual school-mum uniform. I was surrounded by glossy hair, skinny jeans, wedges or ballet flats and smart T-shirts with light summer jackets over them. Fabulous silk scarves and perfectly manicured nails were
de rigueur
. I’d have to make an effort every morning if I wanted to fit in here. This school gate was a lot more stylish, and more intimidating, than the one on our estate back in Dublin.

Yuri clung to my leg, while Lara commented on the other girls’ dresses. ‘I like the sparkly one. I like the pink one. I like the twirly one, but I don’t like the brown one. Brown is stinky, like poo.’

I crouched down. ‘Lara, remember what Mummy said about giving your opinion? If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it.’

‘But poo is brown, Mummy,’ Lara reasoned.

‘Yes, but it’s not a nice thing to say about a dress. Only say nice things, OK?’ I didn’t want her going in and alienating everyone on her first day. The school yard was a tough place.
You needed to make a good first impression, even if you were only three and a quarter.

Lara whispered, ‘Poo is brown, brown is poo.’

I watched the mothers chat to each other, feeling like a complete outsider. Back in Dublin, I’d been one of those women, thrilled to see the other mums after a long summer. Arm in arm we’d stroll off for coffee and catch-ups before I headed into work at ten thirty. But here I was standing alone with no one to talk to and I had to be in work by nine thirty. I tried catching a few of the women’s eyes, but they just smiled vaguely and moved towards their friends. I was clearly not about to be adopted. I’d have to work hard at fitting in.

A bell rang and the teachers came to take the children inside. Yuri was going to be with Mrs Roberts and Lara with Miss Timmons. Lara stood in line behind another girl in her class and began chatting to her about her Peppa Pig runners. She would have no problem settling in. But Yuri refused to let go of my leg. I had to walk him over to the teacher and peel him off me.

Mrs Roberts took him firmly by the hand. ‘Come on now, Yuri, let’s introduce you to the other children.’

‘Mummy,’ Yuri cried. ‘Don’t go. Please.’

I plastered a fake smile on my face and tried to look enthusiastic. ‘You’re going to have a great morning, darling. Mummy has to go to work. But I’ll see you later.’

‘I want to go back to my other school,’ he sobbed. ‘I don’t know anyone’s name. I don’t have any friends here.’

Neither do I, I thought grimly. ‘You’ll make friends.’ I stroked his cheek.

‘Don’t leave me,’ he cried.

‘You’ll be fine,’ I said, tears filling my eyes.

‘Come along, this way.’ Mrs Roberts half dragged him into the classroom.

I waved, forcing a cheery smile to my face, fighting back tears. I turned to see if any other mothers were feeling emotional too, but they were all standing in little clusters. I was on my own.

As the school door closed, I turned and walked to the tube, sobbing all the way.

At nine thirty I was sitting in the reception area, waiting for Babs. She swept in, wearing enormous sunglasses and an animal-print jumpsuit.

‘Morning, Tiger,’ I said, grinning at her.

‘Leopard, actually.’ Babs raised her sunglasses and looked me up and down. ‘Not bad, except for the dorky shoes. Flat shoes make your ankles look fat.’

‘Thanks for that. I’ve just left Yuri crying inconsolably and I’m feeling really fragile, so can you tone down the negative comments?’

‘Oh, don’t get all sensitive. I’m just being honest. Would you prefer me to lie?’

‘On my first day at a new job? Yes, absolutely. Feel free to lie for the rest of the day.’

I followed my sister through Reception and into the studio. Babs introduced me to everyone. I met the producer, Gary Mason, who was classically tall, dark and handsome. His wedding ring didn’t stop him openly flirting with Babs. It made my stomach turn. It was half past nine in the morning and he was a married man. Babs was all giggly around him. I was shocked – seriously? This married guy? Would she ever learn? I’d have to talk to her about it later. Married men were off-limits.

Babs then introduced me to the two researchers, Hannah and Tania, who were very friendly and bubbly, and to the director, Karen, who was very no-nonsense in a way I liked. Finally, I met two cameramen and a soundman.

The studio was made up of a big open space where they shot most of the show. The room was divided in two: one side was set up as a living room, with couches and chairs; the other had a 360-degree mirror and rails of clothes. To the left of the studio there was a small kitchen, a medium-sized lounge and a small makeup room.

‘Right,’ Karen said, clapping her hands. ‘Let’s have a meeting to run through the show.’

Everyone sat down in the ‘living room’, and Karen went through the running order. Gary sat beside Babs and very subtly touched the back of her neck with his hand as he stretched out his arm. I watched my sister’s cheeks flush. Damn, this was bad.

‘We have two women coming in today. They’re best friends. One is a farmer’s wife and the other is a divorcee, whose husband left her for another man, so, understandably, her self-esteem is very low. It’s going to be a good show – audiences love a sad story and it doesn’t get sadder than being dumped for a bloke.’

‘Love it!’ Babs whooped. ‘A gay husband is brilliant.’

‘Just be careful, Babs. No homophobic comments,’ Gary warned her.

Babs batted her eyelashes at him. ‘But I’m allowed to mention that her husband prefers back entry, right?’

Gary threw back his head and laughed loudly. Far too loudly, as far as I was concerned. It wasn’t that funny.

‘Was she always like this?’ Karen asked me.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Babs cut across me: ‘When she’s at work, Emma is not my sister, she’s the new makeup artist. I don’t want anyone asking her questions about me. Let’s keep it professional, please.’

How professional is sleeping with your boss? I wondered.

The meeting went on and I tried to follow their quick-fire
chat. Eventually, the schedule was nailed down and it was time for makeup.

‘Right, Emma, let’s get you to work. We need Babs ready to shoot the opening scene at twelve thirty,’ Gary said, sounding every inch the producer.

I jumped up. ‘No problem.’ I followed her into the makeup room and set to work.

Babs sat back in the chair. ‘What do you think of Gary?’

‘He’s married.’

‘He’s very sexy.’

I stopped blending foundation into my sister’s cheeks. ‘Don’t even think about it. Remember the last time?’

Babs had slept with her married boss in her last job as a TV presenter and had ended up being threatened by his wife and her thug of a brother.

Babs rolled her eyes. ‘That was different. Gary’s not like him. He’s a great guy.’

‘Let me be very clear.’ I forced Babs to look at me. ‘Stay away from married men. OK? Believe me, it’s hard enough for us married women to maintain a good relationship with our husbands, what with kids and work and mid-life crises, without young single girls hitting on them. Gary has a wife and I’m sure she’s a very nice person, like me, so leave him alone.’

Babs laughed. ‘You’re not that nice.’

‘Compared to you, I’m Mother Teresa.’ Babs closed her eyes as I applied eye-shadow. ‘Find yourself a nice single guy and have a normal relationship.’

‘You sound like Mum!’ Babs said sarcastically.

‘Mum has a point. I mean, you’re not far off thirty now. Don’t you want to settle down?’

Babs looked incredulous. ‘And end up like you and James with your boring life, sitting in watching TV? Are you mad?’

‘It’s not boring, it’s secure and comfortable.’ I bristled. Sometimes it
was
a bit boring, but I liked my life. It wasn’t nice to hear it dismissed out of hand in one sentence.

Babs shrugged. ‘All right, so you like it that way. But I don’t want the same things as you. I want to be the top-earning female presenter in the UK and then I’m going to America to earn tons of cash over there and buy a massive house on the beach in Malibu.’

I wondered for the millionth time where Babs had come from. Honestly, someone must have switched babies at the hospital. She had completely different DNA from everyone else in our family or, indeed, anyone I had ever met. Mind you, a big house on the beach in Malibu did sound nice.