Secret Nanny Club (13 page)

spark
ling water with a slice of lemon in it. She kept checking her watch nervously. “I hope people aren’t late.”

Oh, for God’s sake! I didn’t know what she was
stressing about. It wasn’t like we were at a special occasion like a wedding or christening or anything where we were pressed for time. Honestly, it’s just a get-together to discuss some crummy book, I thought. I came here to relax, so why can’t she?

As I was draining my first glass of wine
(
oops
!
) there was another knock on the door. Next to arrive in was Karen, who owned two city-centre chemists. She arrived in wearing a comfy-looking, well-worn beige Juicy Couture tracksuit and her hair back in a messy bun. Karen is probably the most well-off among us and therefore seems to have no interest in dressing to impress anyone. “Hello, girls, sorry I’m late. Traffic was mental. Oh, I’d love a white wine, thanks. I don’t think we’ve met before. What’s your name?”

“My name is Tanya.”

“How do you do, Tanya. It’s nice to meet you. Where are you from?”

“I’m from the Ukraine.”

“Are you enjoying Ireland?”

Tanya glanced nervously at Joanne who gave her a
stern smile in return. Talk about putting somebody on the spot! She was hardly going to say she hated the country and her job in front of her new boss now, was she? But before she had time to answer the question the doorbell sounded again. In came Anita. Anita, with her shock of white hair, is by far the loudest of the group. She has the most vulgar laugh. It gets louder and dirtier after a few scoops of wine. She is a separated mother of five and runs a successful bakery in Wicklow. She doesn’t have a nanny and I really take my hat off to her. How on earth does she do it? Mind you, two of her children are in their late teens so they help out looking after the younger ones, I believe.

Then Deirdre arrived in, apologising profusely.
Apparently the DART had stopped on the tracks for about fifteen minutes and no reason had been given for the delay. Deirdre, probably in her late sixties, is the oldest member of the book club and the most cultured.

She lives in
Dalkey, always sips the same glass of wine all evening and discusses whatever book is on the menu in depth. In fact, I’m convinced that if it weren’t for Deirdre, our little book-club group wouldn’t keep going. Oh my God, I’ll never forget the stress of hosting one

of
our evenings! You would have sworn I was cooking a three-course meal o
n
Come Dine with M
e
instead of just having a few ladies over for some wine and a casual chat about a book. But seriously, I nearly had a breakdown in advance of the evening, fretting that my apartment would be too small to accommodate everyone and worrying that John would start crying and I’d have to attend to him at the expense of my guests.

Deirdre had hosted the evening
the week before in her adorable Dalkey mansion where she is neighbours to the rich and famous and has glorious views of Dublin Bay. Her marble bathroom alone is about the same size as my apartment, complete with Missoni hand towels and Jo Malone hand-cream. It’s like a five star hotel. I wanted to move in straight away and never leave! When she took us on a little tour of her immaculate back garden, complete with its own herb garden and a pond with a spectacular fountain like something out of Powerscourt, I couldn’t help being frozen with fear at the thought of shoving all these people together the following week into my cramped little rented home. I was dreading it!

In the end I spent the whole day scrubbing and
cleaning, I bought flowers to fill the sitting room, Mum took John away for the night and I overcompensated for my humble abode by buying in expensive sparkling wine. Were they impressed? Well, certainly nobody complained. At least not to my face anyway. Did I read the book on our reading list that week? You must be joking. I didn’t have time. In fact, now that I think of it I can’t even

remember
what the book was about that week! I was so relieved when they had all said their goodbyes and left. I honestly don’t understand people who take great pride in entertaining other people at home on a regular basis. The stress of it just isn’t worth it. I’d rather just meet people in a pub or restaurant and foot the bill any time.

“So, I think we’re all here now,” said Joanne in a
clipped voice. She sat at the edge of her cream-leather settee now and, giving a stiff smile, said: “It’s time to talk about the book now.”

I sat up straight as though I was back at school again
wanting to look like I was actually paying attention. Aware that I was midway through my second glass of wine now, I thought it would be best to get my rehearsed review out of the way in case I forgot what to say later.

I had no intention of debating the book – I just wanted
to say what I thought of it. Or at least thought of the first few chapters and the last chapter that I hurriedly read while simultaneously trying to paint my toenails before leaving my apartment (I hadn’t had time to check out the Amazon reviews). Then, all going well, I could sink back into my chair again and enjoy my evening off, chatting about more important things such as childcare.

“So,” Joanne looked sternly at the group over her
reading glasses. “Who would like to start?”

I put up my hand. “
Em, I think I’ll kick off with this one, if that’s okay,” I offered.

Joanne looked visibly surprised since I am never ever
the one to volunteer first.

“Be our guest then,
Kaylah.”

I cleared my throat. “Well,” I began, trying to sound
like the book had deeply affected me on some level, “I found it a harrowing read but thought-provoking on many different levels. I thought the heroine was stoical in her approach to day-to-day living, trying to keep her children safe in a war-torn environment full of trauma and tumult, but it is a novel of great intricacy.”

I stopped suddenly. Everybody was looking at me
with great interest as though they expected me to continue but I had said my piece. That was all I had to say on a book that I hadn’t even properly read. I picked up my wine and gave it a sip to let people know I was finished and it was now their turn to speak.

I caught Joanne’s gaze. Her head was tilted in thought.
“I do agree with you,” she said. “But I find your use of the word ‘stoical’ interesting.”

“Right,” I said. “I see.” Jesus, would she ever move
onto the next person now? I’d had my say. I was done and dusted as far as I was concerned. It was supposed to be a book club here, not a private conversation between Joanne and myself about a book that only one of us had read!

“Well, I mean she has to be stoical in the face of
adversity,” I said and then quickly turned to Deirdre. “What do you think?”

I thought it was a fairly safe bet to bring Deirdre into
the conversation as quickly as possible. Knowing Deirdre she would have read the book at least twice and analysed it to death. She was like the school lick!

“I do agree that the heroine was stoical in the first
half of the book, but then her emotions got the better of her in the second half, especially after what happened with Ahmed.”

Nobody said anything. I felt under pressure to continue
the conversation since I had been the one to kick it all off.

“What happened with Ahmed was dreadful, yes,” I
mumbled even though I didn’t know what I was taking about. Who was Ahmed anyway? It was the wine talking. I wanted to be finished with the book. I wanted to drink another glass of wine and talk about au pairs. I wanted to tell them all about what had happened with Bernadette. I was sure they’d all be shocked!

Suddenly Joanne was eyeing me again. I felt like a
schoolchild who hadn’t done their homework properly. It felt like being back in the classroom, you know, the one time you hadn’t done your homework was the very time you would be picked out by the teacher to answer a question.

“Do you think it was right for her to go back to
Ahmed though? After all, it was a terrible risk given the circumstances.”

“A terrible risk, but worth it in the end I suppose,” I
continued spoofing. I desperately needed the ground to open and swallow me up.

Nobody else spoke. I felt a conspiracy. Had they not
read the book either? Why was Joanne picking on me? It was our last night all together before the summer break– this was supposed to be fun for goodness’ sake!

“I don’t believe,” said Joanne, in a tone of voice I
didn’t care much for, “that it was a good thing for a woman to take such a terrible risk when she was the mother of two small children. In fact, I would go so far as to say –”

My phone rang suddenly. Phew! Thank God for that!

I never did get to hear how far the hostess would go to say.

“Sorry, I really have to get this,” I said. “It’s my mum.
I told her to phone if there was a problem. You girls carry on without me.”

I leaped out of my chair and shot outside. It was Sally.
I was both surprised and pleased to hear from her. Since I gave birth to John I’d only seen Sally once. She called over for a bite to eat but she was afraid to hold the baby in case she dropped him and she was absolutely appalled when I lifted him up at one stage during our lunch to sniff his nappy. Of course she didn’t say anything but she didn’t have to. The horrified look on her face said it all.

“Hi, Sally,” I said.

“Can you talk?”

“Yes, but I can’t stay talking long. I’m at a book
club.”

“A book club?”
Sally sounded shocked. “Where?”

I found myself smiling. Sally isn’t much of a reader,
although she does love fashion magazines. However, I don’t recall ever seeing her with a book in her hand in all

the
time that we shared an apartment.

“Here in Bray. I saw a notice in my local library and
I joined so I could meet nice cultured people in the area.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Sally giggled. “It all sounds a bit
highbrow for me. Any nice men in the club?”

“Haha, are you joking me? No, it’s a ladies’ book
club, so no men allowed.”

“Jesus, that’s a bit of a waste of time, isn’t it? How
are you going to find love if you’re stuck inside reading books all the time and then when you do go out you just meet a bunch of literary-type women?”

“Good question,” I answered. “Hmm, I don’t have
an answer for that. Listen, I’d better not chat too long. We’re in the middle of discussing a book right now. We must meet up soon though.”

“Yes, we must,” Sally agreed.
“Soon.”

“How about next week?”
I asked, perking up. I suddenly was realising how much I had missed Sally and my girls’ nights out. It really had been way too long. Maybe I could get a baby-sitter for the evening or Mum might kindly hold the fort for a night. Or even a couple

of
hours.

“Well, next week isn’t great as there’s so much on,
and the week after I’m going on holidays with Robert.”

“Robert?”

“Yes, he’s the new man. Actually he’s not so new anymore. We’re together over two months. You must meet him. You would love him!”

Hmm.
I think I’d love it more if he had a nice friend for me. “So where are you going on holidays?” I asked, trying not to feel envious. It seemed like the entire population of

Ireland was leaving en masse for their summer holidays.

“We’re going to Sicily for six nights. Robert is treating me.”

“Oh wow! I like the sound of that. He’s obviously
quite keen.”

“I hope so! I’m dying to get away and the pictures of
the hotel on the internet look amazing. Are you going away anywhere yourself this summer? Oh, by the way, how is the baby?”

“John’s fine,” I said. Surely she couldn’t have forgotten
his name already? “He’s great but he’s teething now so the nights are a bit restless. It’s not easy, especially when you’re doing it on your own.”

“Oh, oh well, it’s cute that he’s getting a tooth. You
must email me a photo when you get the chance.”

“I will.”

“Listen, Kaylah, I hope you don’t think I’m being cheeky or anything but I am just wondering if I could borrow your lovely emerald-green dress for next Saturday? Robert has invited me to a black-tie ball and I don’t have anything to wear. If you don’t want me to, that’s okay, I understand.”

I was flummoxed. I really was. I hadn’t heard from
Sally in months and now she was ringing me up out the blue to ask if she could wear the most precious item of clothing in my wardrobe? I hadn’t even worn it myself yet because it was given to me by one of Ireland’s most famous designers just a couple of weeks before I got pregnant. It was a thank-you gift for persuading Ireland’s most famous actress to wear it on
a
Late Late Show
appearance. Apparently the designer in question sold out of all his key season pieces within a week after her appearance.