Page 6 of The Accidental Nanny
“Will she have blonde hair like me?” Eden asks.
“Yes.” Now I’m making promises I can’t keep. She comes over to me, her little hands wrapping around my legs. “I love you, Daddy.”
Hearing a slight cough, I look up. My mother’s lips are pursed together, trying not to smile.
What the hell am I meant to do now? Backed into a corner, I feel like there’s only one option works.
I’m running late. The taxi arrives and my work phone hasn’t stopped going off. With no time to shave, I head for the front door. Eden’s waiting there for me with her favourite teddy, Mr Snuggles. Her puppy dog eyes are making me feel guilty.
"Be good for Granny. I'll see you later." Kissing her head, I duck out before she can make me feel even worse about going.
The party is in full swing when I arrive. Opening the front door, I head across the large entrance hall. Servers in black and white formal wear carry trays with champagne or delicacies.
I’m certainly not in the mood to be here. I’ve been friends with Darren since we were little. His parent’s house was like my second home. I was there when they found out about his sister’s cancer, and I was there when she went into remission. It was like I was another family member.
“Alex.” Beth, Darren’s sister, comes up from behind me. Her huge baby bump puts her tiny frame out of proportion, but she’s glowing from within.
“Hello, how are you doing? Where’s Fred?” I kiss her on the cheek, looking for her husband who is usually by her side.
“I’m great, although I don’t know where he’s got to. How are you?”
“I’m good.” I lie through my teeth. She gives me a look that says she knows better.
“Don’t bullshit me or I’ll get my brother. Patrick is here as well.”
Patrick is Darren’s boyfriend and isn’t meant to be here tonight. His personality is too outgoing for my liking; he always wants to be centre of attention. I never fully understood what Darren found attractive about it, but they were happy which was the important thing.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m warning you.” She starts to shout to them.
“A mess,” I answer quickly. “I’m a mess. All right?” Idon’t want her calling him. “Mum suggested getting a nanny. I think I might have to.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Beth says, rubbing her belly. "We're considering one for when I go back to work."
“Where do I start?” I need help.
“Maybe you could put out an advert," Beth suggests with a soft smile.
“Eden has a list. She must be pretty, blonde, no doubt young, fifty thousand a year…” I sigh going over Eden’s wishes. "How am I meant to find all that?”
"Those things are easy. The trick is to find someone who cares for the kids, someone who is interested in them. Someone confident and who doesn't just consider it a job." Beth touches my arm. "You'll find someone. It isn't hard, I promise."
Gemma
I’m hiding in the downstairs toilet, sobbing softly. My makeup is ruined from the silent tears rolling down my cheeks.
Dad doesn’t mean it. I’m sure he doesn’t want me to get a job? But then he said I had a week or I would be out… I sigh. Could he be serious this time? No, he won’t throw me out. Mum won’t let him. I tell myself the lies over and over, hoping I’ll start to believe them. Reaching for some tissue, I blow my nose loudly and check my face.
“I don’t care anymore. My life is over.” I dab at my splotchy face, applying a little foundation to cover the redness.
Grabbing my clutch bag, I open the door to walk through it with my chin up.I can do this.As I’m about to leave, I hear voices. There’s what seems to be a private conversation taking place in the hallway.
“…she must be pretty, blonde, no doubt young, fifty thousand…”
I open the door a little more. It squeaks, making me miss the last bit they say. My eyes drink in the man in the blue suit. He’s a little old, but holy shit in hell, he is hot. The way his hand rubs his scruffy beard. I need to introduce myself right now.
He’s chatting with Beth, who’s already married, very pregnant, and she isn’t blonde, so there's no threat there. I shut the door, checking my makeup again. I reapply my lipstick, wipe away my mascara streaks, dab some more blusher on, and spritz a fresh spray of floral perfume. I’m as stunning as I can make myself after my little meltdown.
