Practically Perfect

Normal family life is the goal in this delightful short story by Eirin Thompson.

Being the nanny was hard work, but Izzy loved every minute . . .

MISS FLEMING?” the man said. “Izzy, please.” She was trembling.

Any job interview was scary, but one by Nicholas Graves?

The actor was even more handsome in the flesh than he appeared on screen.

“Come in and have a seat, Izzy. Thanks for coming.”

He indicated she should sit on a comfortable chair before taking his place on the sofa opposite.

“I see from your application that you qualified in childcare four years ago, since when you’ve been working for a playgroup.

“Can you tell me a bit about that?”

Izzy’s mouth felt dry, but she gave an account of her experience, from setting up play resources and preparing healthy snacks to soothing homesick little ones and reading stories. Nicholas nodded.

“That sounds great – so why do you want to leave?”

Izzy wondered that herself. She got on well with colleagues and loved the children. But she wanted more.

She’d always envisaged a close relationship, almost family, where she stuck with the same children for years and saw them grow and develop.

“You want to be a proper old-fashioned nanny!” Lola, her best friend, had observed.

She tried to explain this to Nicholas Graves.

“You don’t think you’d miss the company of other adults? The gossip?”

Izzy looked at her shoes. “I don’t gossip.”

“Sorry. I’m sure you don’t. Well, you read the advertisement, but let me put you in the picture.

“Miranda and I have three children aged under six.

“Both of us work, so we’ve had some help from a nanny.

“But now that Miranda has gone to work on a role in America for some months, we’ve decided we need someone to live in, and our present nanny can’t do that.

“The job would mean long hours some days, when I’m working, and those hours would be unpredictable.

“You’d get the kids up in the morning, take Cassie to school and Freddie to nursery, and you’d have baby Molly all day.

“You’d feed them and bathe them if I’m not back and put them to bed.

“You’d also be responsible for organising their clothes and shopping for their food.

“They’re lovely kids, but Cassie and Freddie bicker, and they’re picky eaters.

“They make a fuss about going to bed and cry when you wash their hair . . . I’m not selling this well, am I?” Izzy smiled.

“On the plus side, when I’m not working I can give you loads of time off.

“And you’ll have every Sunday free, because Miranda’s parents come and take them for the day.

“You’d have a nice room up at the top of the house. Oh, and you’ll want to know about salary.”

Nicholas held out a notepad with a figure on it. “Does that seem OK?” Izzy’s hopes faded. The job was appealing, but the money was an insult.

Did the Graveses expect someone to work for them for peanuts just because they were famous?

“A year?” she queried. “Gosh, no! A month.”

That was different.

“Would you like time to think about it? Only, I’m keen to get someone for the post.”

“You’re offering me the job?” Izzy asked. “Don’t you have more people to interview?”

“I narrowed the candidates down to four. One asked me whose autographs I could get, one wanted to know if I could acquire tickets for ‘Strictly’ and the third couldn’t stop giggling.

“Frankly, I’m delighted you came and I’m not sure what I’ll do if you refuse.”

Izzy blushed. Nicholas Graves was making her feel wanted – even if it was in the capacity of nanny to his children.

“Then I accept,” she said.

****

“When you are bigger like me, Freddie, you will have to wear a newniform to school, won’t he, Izzy?”

“He will, but not yet. If Freddie wants to wear his Buzz Lightyear suit to nursery, then that’s OK.

“I’m sure you dressed up sometimes when you were at nursery, Cassie.”

“I wore my Elsa costume when I was

little. It doesn’t fit me any more. Mummy’s going to get me a better one from America.”

Izzy had been living and working with the Graves family for almost a week, and she knew she was going to love it.

Cassie, aged five, clearly wanted to make Izzy her property.

Freddie did his own thing, wearing himself out with high-energy antics, at least up until he’d had his tea, after which he started to show signs of wanting a cuddle as he wound down towards bed.

Molly? Molly was a lamb. “Morning.”

It was Nicholas. They didn’t often see him at this time as he didn’t return from the theatre until late and slept late.

“Hi, Daddy!” Cassie said. Nicholas ran himself a glass of water and drank it.

“Right, got to go. I’ve got an early meeting with Sam, my agent, then rehearsals.

“I’ll be home for a while in the afternoon, though. Coping, Izzy?”

“Em, yes, I think. Don’t you want any breakfast?”

“No time. I’ll grab a coffee and a Danish en route. See you later. Be good for Izzy, guys!”

“Bye, Daddy!” Cassie called after him.

“Bye-bye, Spiderman,” Freddie said with a giggle.

“All right, kids, I just want to load the dishwasher, then it’s time to clean your teeth, wash your faces and hands and fix your hair.”

“Freddie, you go first,” Cassie ordered.

“No, you go first,”

Freddie replied.

Izzy interrupted.

“If you can’t agree between you, then I’ll decide.

“Cassie, you will go first this morning, and then Freddie will clean his teeth first at bedtime.”

“Ha-ha,” Cassie taunted. “You’ll have to go to bed before me.”

Freddie stuck out his tongue, but Cassie was already racing off.

****

“Don’t you think it’s a bit strange, Miranda Graves going off to the States and leaving the kids behind?” Lola asked when she rang Izzy for a progress report.

“Their mum FaceTimes them lots,” Izzy replied, feeling the need to defend the Graveses, though the “lots” was overstating it.

“And you wouldn’t be saying that if it was their dad who’d gone overseas to work. Fathers can be the primary care-givers.”

“From what you’ve said, the primary care-giver in that house is you.

“You shop, cook, wash their clothes, dress them, feed them, play with them and drive them about.”

“Which is what I’ve always told you I wanted.”

“I guess, Mary Poppins. But there’s your reputation to consider, living under the same roof as an abandoned husband.

“Mind, if that man was Nicholas Graves, I wouldn’t be complaining, either.”

“Lola! He’s a gentleman and happily married.”

“Well, keep me posted on the married bliss front. Sounds to me like he’s semi-detached, at best.”

Izzy had been truthful when she’d said she wasn’t a gossip.

While she was happy to share a flavour of her new life with her friend, she didn’t go into details.

“How are things in IT?” “You know – same old, same old. At least I go home at half-past five.”

****

After a few weeks, Nicholas’s theatre run came to an end, and then he was at home much more.

He’d pitch in at breakfast, persuading Cassie to eat an egg – something Izzy had failed at – and he was back in time to help with tea.

“Let me,” he said, taking the potato peeler from Izzy as she stood at the sink. “I don’t mind.”

“You’ve done it every night.

“Go and put your feet up – Molly can chat to me and the other two have just started their TV hour.”

It was true that Izzy had worked hard these first few weeks, so perhaps it was OK to snatch a break.

She had no regrets about taking the job, though.

The children were lovable, her accommodation was comfortable and Nicholas treated her like one of the family.

After the children were in bed, Nicholas invited her to watch a play on television with him.

“Are you in it?”

“Not this one. But I’ve been invited to work with the director on a new project.

“We could take a look, see what we reckon.”

Izzy was thrilled. Nicholas was asking her to share her opinion with him!

The play was terrible. After 15 minutes, Izzy was trying to stifle a yawn. Five minutes later she was struggling to stay awake.

The next she knew, the television was switched off and someone was laying a blanket over her and turning down the lamp.

She felt a tender kiss on the top of her head, and sensed a figure leave the room. Nicholas.

****

However tired Izzy had felt during the television programme, once upstairs she lay tossing and turning. What had just happened?

Nicholas had kissed her hair, but had it been a real kiss or just the sort you’d drop on a child’s head – one of innocent affection?

Should she make it clear that if it ever happened again she’d have to tender her resignation?

Or was she making a mountain out of a molehill?

The acting community was famous for its overt expressions of fondness.

It was probably nothing at all to Nicholas, and she’d look a fool if she mentioned it.

“He’s a happily married man,” she reminded herself again the next morning as she watched him run his fingers through that glossy, dark red hair.

“His wife is a successful and glamorous actress,” she told herself as she caught him staring pensively through the garden window.

“And you are the nanny – kind and caring, but ordinary.

“If you think Nicholas Graves is romantically interested in you, then you’re out of your mind.”

****

Nicholas was off to a party.

“I’m not big on parties, as you’ve probably noticed, but this one’s for a good friend’s birthday,” he explained.

“If I end up with a sore head the next day, could I ask you to do the handover of the kids to Miranda’s parents?

“I know it’s meant to be your day off, but I can trade you Monday for it, if that’s all right.”

“Sure.”

Izzy usually had her one lie-in of the week on Sundays, and then saw her parents or Lola later in the day.

Although she’d heard the children’s grandparents in the house, she’d never actually met them.

She was curious to see what they were like.

The Laws were a very striking couple – Izzy could see where Miranda got her looks.

“You must be Isobel,”

Mrs Law said. “We meet at last.

“Tobias and I would like to thank you for all you’ve done for the children.”

“Yes, they speak very fondly of you,” her husband chipped in. “We’re still cross with Miranda for upping and –”

“Tobias!” Mrs Law interrupted sharply.

“Er, yes,” Mr Law mumbled. “I’ll just pop out to the garden and let the children know we’re here.”

“We’ll have them back for half past six. I know Molly starts to get cranky if she doesn’t get to bed on time,” Mrs Law said.

“Yes, it’s the one time of day she can out-diva Cassie!” Izzy smiled.

Mrs Law’s face hardened. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate remark for the nanny,” she snapped. “Please never forget you are not their mother.”

Izzy was stung by

Mrs Law’s remark.

She hadn’t thought she was speaking out of turn, but did it seem to others that she had grown overconfident of her place in the Graves household?

After an hour of fretting, she decided to cheer herself up by putting on the new dress she’d bought and going for a walk.

She strolled through the park where she often took the children to play on the equipment and feed ducks.

Sitting down on a bench, she picked up a newspaper someone had left behind.

She leafed through it idly, then a picture jumped out at her.

It was Miranda, photographed in a clinch with an American actor.

Izzy was unsure what to do. Should she go back and show Nicholas?

But the story must be known far and wide by now.

Why hadn’t the phone rung off the hook this morning?

People wouldn’t be able to resist calling after news like this.

At least the children were too young to understand – that was a blessing.

He might prefer to lick his wounds alone, Izzy thought.

But what if he wanted someone to talk to? She should go home.

Her mobile rang. It was a number she didn’t know.

“Hello, Isobel? This is Beatrice Law. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”

Izzy’s heart, already pounding, began to race.

“What is it, Mrs Law? What’s happened?”

“It’s nothing to panic about, but Cassie has fallen in her roller-skates.

“I said she wasn’t ready to let go of my hand, but you know what she’s like.

“We took her to A and E and they think she’s broken her leg.” Mrs Law’s voice quavered. “We should have been more careful.”

“It’s all right, Mrs Law, she’s in safe hands now. Have you told Nicholas?”

“We can’t reach him! Not on the house phone, nor on his mobile.

“Luckily he gave me your number some weeks ago as a back-up.

“Are you at home now?” “No, but I’m not far. I can run and get him.”

“Thank you. Then will you come to the hospital? Cassie’s very upset, and it’s you she’s asking for.”

The reason Nicholas was impossible to reach, Izzy would later learn, was that he’d seen the newspaper picture in an early edition at the party the night before.

Back home, knowing his phone would start ringing and not stop, he’d unplugged the landline and switched off his mobile.

When Izzy burst in through the back door he was downstairs, swallowing a couple of paracetamol and washing them down with orange juice.

Hearing her, Nicholas turned and gave her a weary smile.

“We need to talk,” he began.

“Not now!” Izzy panted. “Mrs Law’s been trying to reach you.

“It’s nothing too serious, but Cassie’s in hospital.

“She fell and might have broken her leg. We have to go.”

****

Cassie was back from surgery and giving orders from her hospital bed.

“Please tell the doctor I would like pink crutches, and can I have lemonade? I don’t like this water.”

“Anything else, your Highness?” Nicholas enquired.

“Yes. I don’t want Granny to go to prison for breaking my leg, I just want you to be a little bit cross with her for about one day.”

Nicholas raised his eyebrows.

“I’m not sure we can exactly blame Granny for this one.”

Cassie sniffed.

“Would you leave go of a six-year-old girl’s hand when she’d never rollerskated before?”

Nicholas sighed.

“She may have a point,” he murmured to Izzy.

The Laws had taken Freddie and Molly back to their house so that

Nicholas and Izzy could focus on Cassie.

A nursing assistant had brought a jigsaw and some story-books.

After these were exhausted, Cassie moved on to drawing, using a notebook and pen Izzy had unearthed from her handbag.

“Right, Cass,” her dad said. “While you’re busy, we’ll nip out for a quick break.”

He turned to Izzy.