Page 29 of The Accidental Nanny
“I have no idea,” I reply dryly.
Gemma starts to hand me the clothes she wants to try on.
“Gemma. This is pretty,” Eden says. Her and Ace have given up with my phone and are helping by pulling clothes off the racks and looking for a size eight for Gemma.
“This is enough. You have nowhere to put it all,” I say, struggling to hold onto everything that’s been handed to me.
“There's a wardrobe in my room,” Gemma suggests.
I pause for a moment and then say, “I need to get rid of my wife’s stuff, don’t I?”
Ace and Eden don't say anything, and neither does Gemma.
Gemma decides to put on a fashion show to see how she looks. We rate the outfits out of thirty, with anything below twenty-five discarded. Once we're done, I'm left carrying all the bags.
"Normally, when you spend a lot of money, you get a free gift. How can this store not do that after I drop one thousand just like that?" Gemma complains.
"It's still a lot of money for clothes,” I say while I pile the shopping into the boot.
I help Ace and Eden get buckled in first before jumpinginto the front seat to find Gemma scrolling on her phone, her long legs crossed. Feeling uncomfortable, I clear my throat.
Gemma looks at me. “Are you okay?" she asks.
"Never better," I say under my breath.
We get home and Gemma starts to skip her way inside when I call her back. "Gem, are you forgetting something?"
Gemma blushes and comes back. "Thank you for helping me take my things inside."
"I meant for you to take your own things inside. I'm not your maid.” Raising an eyebrow at her, I gesture to the bags.
She pouts and nods. I feel a bit mean, so I grab some of her things.
I get Ace and Eden settled in front of the television before I head upstairs to Gemma's room. "Just give me an hour to sort through the wardrobe," I call to her, thinking she would come and help, but she leaves me to it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alex
I'm not gentle as I rip Julia’s clothes out of the wardrobe. I carry them downstairs in batches and throw them in a pile on the kitchen floor. The faint smell of her perfume lingers in the air, twisting my gut.
I stare at the clothes, my mouth pulling down at the corners. I wish they were voodoo dolls I could poke holes into, and Julia could feel the pain she's putting my children through.
I don't consider them our children anymore, just mine. Julia doesn't want them, she said so herself. She's horrid, mean, and heartless, and doesn't deserve them anyway.
It’s getting dark, and Eden wants Gemma to read her to sleep. I listen to Gemma's voice float down the stairs. It should be Julia's voice… their mother should be tucking her children into bed, not a nanny.
I storm out of the house in a fit of sudden rage and go into the garden shed. I grab a shovel and storm back into the garden, finding a spot where I dig a hole.
“You know you aren’t allowed to burn clothes.” Gemma stands a good few feet away from me, watching.
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“I chucked my brother’s favourite clothes on the bonfire once when nobody was looking. God, I got into so much trouble. The smoke was so thick.” Gemma smiles at the fond memory, but it just gets me more curious.
“Why did you throw them on the bonfire?” I ask, leaning on the shovel.
“He was being a dick, as usual. He told his friends I had started my period, which might have been in retaliation for me telling them he fancied his Maths teacher.” She waves a hand as if it doesn’t matter. “Why don’t you give the clothes to charity?” Gemma suggests.
