The Nanny (32 page)

“I haven't.”

Josh smiled, and said gently, “Maybe you've never needed to.”

Jo moved away another fraction to think.

“I suppose I thought Sheila loved me, not him.”

“Yeah.” Josh sighed. “That's got to hurt.”

“It does. I don't know who's hurt me more.”

“Yeah.”

“And you know what really hurts?” Jo continued. “Really
really
hurts?”

“No.”

“James's knowing. They've all been treating me like a child for the past six years.”

“Not really.” Josh shook his head. “They're the ones who have been acting like children for the past six years. You've been the only adult in the equation.”

She looked at him. “When did you get so wise all of a sudden?” she said fondly.

Josh turned to her with eyes as warm as a winter fire.

“We really miss you, Jo,” he whispered. “All of us. Turns out the Fitzgerald family needs you in order to function.”

Three layers of foundation hid Jo's blush. “Oh,” was all she could manage.

“The kids are having nightmares. It's horrid.” He sighed. “And Scary Spouse is terrifying my dad into a state of almost permanent paralysis.”

“Vanessa isn't scary,” she said softly.

Josh snorted and moved his arm from Jo's shoulder onto the back of the bench.

“Believe me,” he said, “that woman could terrify for England.”

Jo recalled Josh's and Dick's whisperings and felt a sudden, visceral loyalty to all betrayed women.

“I hardly think that's fair,” she said.

“Trust me,” smiled Josh. “I know. I know all about Vanessa and Dick's marriage—”

“—You can say that again—” she muttered.

“—And Vanessa is one scary woman.”

Jo tensed. “Well,” she said. “Perhaps she needs to be.”

Josh paused for a beat.

“Why?” he asked.

“Sometimes a man needs a bit of scaring,” said Jo. “Especially when…he's the kind who plays away from home.”

Josh stared at Jo. She put her head down.

“Sorry, but that's how I feel.”

Sometimes,” he said, “a woman pushes a man into playing away from home.” He ignored Jo's gasp and continued, “And then she piles on the guilt after he's been forced to look elsewhere for love and ruins his life.”

“That's an atrocious thing to say!” said Jo. She stood up and walked back toward the river. Josh followed.

“No it's not,” he said. “A woman might resort to being manipulative, you know—subconsciously. And a man can't help it if he stumbles into the arms of someone else. Believe me, I know.”

“How can you say such things? After your dad did that to your mum? How can you condone his affairs? How can you help him have them?”

“I don't condone—”

“You do! You just said—”

“He only had one—”

“Oh don't play that with me. I know all about you and Dick and your sordid little secret from Vanessa.”

“What?”

“D'you know? You're all the same. You disgust me. Men disgust me.”

“Is that why you keep so many hanging on at the same time?”

Jo gasped. “What?”

“You're a prick-tease.”

She slapped him hard on the cheek, and tears sprang to both of their eyes. Josh bit his lip, his hand on his cheek.

“Anyway,” he said, slightly muffled, “they want you back.”

“Fuck off.” She turned and walked back toward the bridge. Josh followed her.

“Oh come on,” he said, when he'd caught her up on it. “It's great money, thanks to your little raise.”

“Oh yeah,” she spun round. “And you understand all about money.”

“I do actually,” said Josh, his hand still on his cheek. “I know what happens when there isn't enough. It can tear people apart just as much as affairs.”

“Tell me,” said Jo, hands on hips. “Is that why you scrounge so much?”

“What?”

“You heard.”

“I don't scrounge. I don't need to.”

“Oh no, that's right. You earn an absolute fortune, then live rent-free off your dad like a spoiled child, while the rest of us scrimp and save to earn a living.”

“How do you know what I earn? And who told you—”

“Vanessa told me you were living rent-free ages ago. At your age! It's disgusting.”

“Well!” Josh was now beginning to shout. “That just goes to show that Vanessa doesn't know everything.”

“She certainly doesn't!” Jo shouted back. “You and Dick Dastardly make sure of that.”

They stood facing each other, the river flowing fast beneath them.

“Right,” he said. “I think I'd better go.”

“I think you better had.”

“Nice to know what you think of me.”

“Yeah, strange that,” she said. “Two-faced, hypocritical, scrounging bastards with a Peter Pan complex are usually my type.”

Josh blanched. And then walked away.

 

Meanwhile back in Highgate, Scary Spouse was enjoying a rare moment alone. Dick Dastardly had gone to the shop for the day, the children were playing together in the playhouse (they seemed to be spending an awful lot of time together recently—even with Toby), and she was reading the Saturday papers to a background of radio ads. She didn't know where Josh was and frankly she didn't care because it was rather wonderful to be alone in her own house. Things had felt a lot better between her and Dick after their little chat. It had just felt so good saying those things out loud to him—her anger hadn't appeared once since then. And he seemed to be treating her differently, too. She had even started to see glimmers of the man she married.

The front door opened and shut. She looked up at the kitchen clock and sighed. Well, she'd had twenty minutes, what more did she expect?
She didn't look up from her paper when Josh wandered into the room. But she did look up when he went straight to the drinks cabinet. So she was somewhat surprised to discover that Josh was in fact Dick.

“Hello!” she said, surprised.

Dick didn't turn round as he took a swig of whiskey.

She stopped herself from her knee-jerk reaction of asking if he was celebrating selling a record.

“Hello,” she repeated.

When Dick eventually turned round, he was so pale he was almost translucent, except at the edges where he'd gone a sort of green. Vanessa was on her feet fast.

“What's happened? Have you been robbed? Attacked?”

Dick shook his head as she led him to the kitchen table, sat him down, and poured him another drink. Then she knelt beside him and stroked his back as though he were being sick.

“I'm fine,” he said weakly.

She sat on the chair next to him, never taking her eyes off him. She waited as he took another swig, then hung his head in his hands.

“I've just found something out,” he groaned, almost inaudibly. “It involves you. And affects the children.”

Vanessa stopped breathing. Blood pumped to her heart.

When Dick took another gulp of whiskey, she stood up to get herself one. He put out his glass. She took it and poured them both one.

“What?” she whispered urgently. “What have you found out? Dick?”

And then to her horror, he started sobbing into his whiskey. Great huge, racking sobs that shook his whole body. She sat in wretched pity, nursing her drink, feeling she had forfeited her right to soothe him. Eventually he stopped and, exhausted, looked up at her. She looked down quickly at her glass.

Dick stared at his wife miserably. How did he get here? How did he make such a mess of his marriage that when he needed his wife most, all she could do was sit in stony silence?

“Well?” she asked again.

Dick had no choice but to explain.

“I popped up to the flat today,” he whispered. “They've gone. Vanished. No rent, no nothing. They've taken most of the furniture with them and left the flat in a mess. I'll never get new tenants in and can't afford to do it up again.”

Vanessa frowned. “Is that all?”

Dick let out a short, bitter laugh. “Not really,” he said. “The missing bit of information is that they've been paying for everything except Jo's salary for the past two years because the shop's been making such a steady loss.”

Vanessa frowned some more. “How does that involve me?”

“Well I've been conning you for years, and I can't keep it up any longer.”

Vanessa dropped her head in her hands and took long, deep breaths. After a while, she sat up.

“So how have you been paying for Jo?” she asked, confused.

He started crying again.

“Dick?”

Dick took another swig. “Well, while my wife's been paying the mortgage and keeping the children in clothes, my son's been paying the nanny.”

“What?” she cried. She thought frantically of how on earth Zak could be paying for Jo. Maybe Dick was having a breakdown and was talking gibberish. She started to get scared. She wanted her old Dick back!

“Dick!” she cried. “For God's sake, try and explain!”

Dick took a deep breath. “When I realized I couldn't keep you in the manner to which you'd become accustomed, the only thing I could think of doing was to go to Josh for help. The bank wouldn't give me another loan, and I didn't know where else to turn. To save my pride, Josh pretended he wanted to live with us—to ‘bond' a bit—though why he'd want to bond with his failure of a father I don't know.” He took a big sniff before continuing. “Anyway, I pretended to believe him because it was the only way I could save face. So he's been paying me ‘rent' so that it looked to you like I could easily afford Jo. By the way, giving her that raise when she called the police didn't help, 'cos Josh couldn't afford the difference.” He shrugged. “Meant the shit hit the fan about two months earlier than it would have anyway.”

Vanessa blinked. She could almost hear her brain churning from the effort of trying to take in the information. “
Josh?
” she repeated.

Dick nodded, wiping his eyes and nose with his shirtsleeve.

“What about his flatmates?” she whispered.

Dick let out a half laugh, half sob.

“They didn't go traveling, did they?” asked Vanessa slowly.

“Still all living in the flat in Crouch End,” Dick spoke in a low mono
tone. “Josh is still paying rent there. That's why he doesn't go out. He hasn't got much money to play with.”

Vanessa sank into her seat.

“So,” said Dick, “now you know everything.” Vanessa stared at him. He couldn't even raise his eyes as he spoke. “You're married to a man who needs help from his son from the first marriage he fucked up, to support the second marriage he's fucking up.”

Vanessa looked away.

“Yes,” she said finally. “I know everything. I know you couldn't talk to me when you needed me most, didn't believe that I loved you unconditionally, yet loved me enough to try everything to save our marriage.”

Dick turned to her in surprise, and then it was his turn to be horrified at the sight of her crying into her whiskey.

Josh was so livid he could barely drive out of Niblet. When he passed a picture-book pub, he stopped, parked the car, and stormed into it.

“We don't open till seven,” said a stunned landlady.

“I'll give you £100,” said Josh.

“What'll you have?” She smiled.

“Vodka. Double.”

He sat at the bar and downed his double vodka in exactly the manner he assumed a two-faced, hypocritical scrounging bastard with a Peter Pan complex would.

 

Vanessa snuggled up to her husband under the duvet. He gave a contented groan.

“How come Josh wants the shop then?”

“He says he's sick of being an accountant,” said Dick. “Wants to give the shop a go. Wants to buy the flat above it as well, either to rent out or to live in himself if he can afford it.”

Vanessa sighed.

“It would save my life,” said Dick. “I wouldn't be able to sell it for half as much to anyone else. But of course, he's pretending I'd be doing him the massive favor, as usual.”

“Wow,” she said. “I'm beginning to see him in a new light.”

“Good.”

“Now we just have to work on Toby.”

Dick sighed. “Poor lad. By the time he was Tallulah's age, I'd already left.”

There was a long pause. “God,” breathed Vanessa. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Thank God we're not going to repeat that pattern,” whispered Dick.

“Of course not!” said Vanessa, kissing his cheek.

“I thought we were going that way,” Dick whispered, hiding his face in her hair.

“I can't believe you thought I loved you for your money,” she said.

“I didn't think that exactly,” said Dick. “I just thought you'd love me less for having less of it.”

She held his face in her hands and made him look at her.

“If you said you wanted to give up work tomorrow and be a house-husband, I'd be the happiest woman in the world.”

Dick stared at her. “I want to give up work tomorrow and be a house-husband.”

Vanessa stared back at him. They stared at each other in the dark.

“Really?” she croaked.

“You didn't mean it did you?” said Dick, turning away.

“I did.”

He turned back to see the expression on her face.

“We'd have to do without Jo, of course,” he said.

“Why?”

“Well, we'd only have your salary.”

“I want to get a better salary, move jobs. I was going to tell you tonight.”

“You want to leave your job?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

She shrugged and looked away. “More money. Better job. Want to be appreciated. Meet new people. Stop meeting the morons there.”

“Because we need more money?”

“Not especially. I just think it would be nice, don't you? But anyway, I'd have had enough to pay for Jo now, if only you'd come to me.”

Dick smiled. “Didn't I marry well?”

Vanessa smiled. “Not as well as me.”

Dick tutted. “Typical. I can't even beat you at that.”

She laughed and kissed her husband. They lay back, staring at the ceiling together.

“But will you want Jo there all the time?” she asked. “Won't she cramp your style with the children?”

Dick considered this for a moment. “I don't actually have a style to cramp.”

“I mean, you'll want to be your own boss where they're concerned.”

“But they'll miss her terribly,” said Dick.

“Mm.”

“So will I. She's a pro, and I've got a lot to learn.”

“Yeah. She'd be training you, I suppose, like any job. And it's nice having her around too.”

“Hmm,” said Dick. “It would be great to keep her as a sort of part-time nanny.”

“God. That would be ideal wouldn't it?”

“Too good to be true.”

“Worth asking, I suppose,” pondered Vanessa. “She could always do other nanny work to fill in the time.”

“Who knows? She might not have to if we don't lower her salary too much. Then she could sort of be on call if I need her.”

“Why don't we offer to just take off the raise we gave her?” suggested Vanessa. “So she'd be doing half the hours, still living in, for the same pay she moved all the way to London for.”

“Can we afford that?” asked Dick.

“Of course! Maybe one less holiday, but who cares? You and I will be busy changing our careers. We can have two holidays next year when I'm earning more.”

“You're sure?” asked Dick. “I'd be at home all day with home help and you'd be supporting us all, plus a part-time nanny? It's a massive responsibility, Ness.”

“At last!” grinned Vanessa. “Recognition!”

Dick gave her an intense look. “I've always recognized how brilliant you are at your job, Ness.” Vanessa searched his face. “I just felt so crap at being bad at mine,” he explained, “I couldn't be proud of you. Pathetic. And I'm sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“And I certainly think of you as a real woman.” He moved in closer to the warmth of her body.

“Good.”

He sat up suddenly. “Let's phone Jo now!”

Vanessa sidled over. “In a bit,” she whispered, stretching her leg over his.

“Oh if you insist.” He sighed, lying back down again. “I suppose it can wait.”

 

Still standing on the bridge, Jo was so angry with Josh she literally didn't know what to do with herself. She kicked some gravel, then raced over
the bridge a couple of times and shouted at the river a bit. She considered running to tell Sheila everything, then remembered she couldn't, which made her even angrier. She shouted at the river some more, clenched and unclenched her fists, and shouted again. Then she bought a doughnut from the corner shop and ate it in two bites, which actually helped quite a bit. Then she went for a long stompy walk through the fields, getting her shoes all wet and not caring.

Then she walked home, past the church, where she swore—not too loudly in case the vicar was about—and back over the bridge again where she swore again, rather more loudly.

When her house came into view she felt even angrier. She stopped and looked at it properly. Really looked at it. And felt a few things shift into a new perspective. She stood there for a while, just looking and thinking before walking toward it.

She slammed the front door shut behind her before climbing the stairs.

She sat on her bed. She got up and sat at her dressing table. She looked in the mirror and almost started in shock. She looked like a madwoman. Which made her
really
angry. There was a knock at her door.

“What?”

Her father opened it, and Jo sat rigidly, waiting for him to tell her off.

“Your mother wants to know what's up,” Bill said.

“Oh, you're talking to me now, are you?”

He grunted. “If you're going to be like that—” He started shutting her door.

“Like what?” asked Jo, spinning round to look at him. “Like
I'm
allowed to be the one with feelings for once? Instead of the one indulging everyone else's feelings? Like your feelings? Or Shaun's?”

“Eh?”

“You heard.”

“I don't like your tone, young lady.”

“Well get over it.” She turned back to her mirror.

“How dare—”

“I haven't liked your tone for years, Dad,” she told his reflection in her mirror, “but I've just had to live with it. So now you don't like mine. Okay. I'll do you a favor and move out.”

Bill watched her as she furiously did her face.

“There's no need—”

“Oh I think there is,” Jo said. She scrunched up her face and shut her eyes, as if concentrating. “I'm going to try and sort out a part-time job
first thing Monday morning. In London. While signing up for a university course.” She opened her eyes.

“What about your mother? You're walking out on your mother?”

“Mum's fine. She's already able to walk up stairs with you standing next to her. She's far more capable than you give her credit for. She's looked after you all these years, hasn't she? And I'm not walking out on her—or you—I'm just living my life.”

“Sounds like being selfish to me.”

“Well of course it would!” cried Jo, swiveling round to face him. “What's self-preservation for you is selfishness for me and Mum. I only have to watch you with the remote control to see that. It took Mum having a stroke before she was allowed to watch what she bloody wanted to on TV. Thirty years with a man who doesn't
permit
her to watch what she wants on TV. Can you even begin to imagine what that's like, Dad?”

The skin round Bill's eyes thinned. “A man has to be king of his own castle—” he muttered.

“And what must a woman be? In her own home? Chief servant? You think that's fair?”

“Your mother's not my servant.”

“No, you're right,” shot Jo. “That would mean paying her a wage.”

Hilda appeared behind him. Jo looked at her parents and felt her anger drain out of her body.

“What happened?” asked Hilda. She still spoke quietly, but her speed was improving.

“Oh,” sighed Jo. “I had a horrid row with Josh. And now I'm taking it out on Dad.”

“Did he make you cry?” demanded Bill, his fury transferring outside the family with ease. “He looked the type. Too clean-cut. Too smooth. Never had to try hard in life to get what he wanted.”

“No he didn't make me cry,” Jo said. “That was Sheila. It turns out Shaun—the perfect Shaun you're so desperate for me to marry—has been two-timing me with my best friend all the way through our relationship. That's right, with Sheila. Since before our first date, almost seven years ago. Good thing I didn't listen to you and refused him every time he proposed, eh, Dad?”

Hilda gasped. “Josie!”

“Oh I'll be fine,” said Jo wearily. “I needed to get rid of him for years,
just didn't know how.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Didn't want to hurt him. Didn't want to rock the boat. Hah! Typical!”

“How did you find out?” asked Hilda.

“Because I finished with him the other night. Or he finished with me. Not sure which, you'll have to ask Sheila. Anyway it doesn't matter.”

Bill sat down heavily on her bed. “I can't believe it,” he said.

“I know, Dad,” said Jo. “Believe it or not, that's another reason I didn't finish it sooner. I knew how much you wanted him for a son-in-law. I was trying to want the same things for me as you did. A bit of a pattern, it appears.”

Bill gave his daughter a baffled stare. “You dated him for me?”

“No,” said Jo slowly. “At first I dated him for both of us. But after a while…I suppose I was in denial.” She let out another sharp laugh. “Didn't want to disappoint the men in my life. And I didn't even notice how much that was disappointing me.”

There was a pause.

“Well,” said Bill quietly. “Well.”

Hilda came slowly into the room and sat next to Bill on the bed.

“You both seem to have missed something rather important,” she said breathily.

They looked at her.

“I came up the stairs on my own,” she said.

 

The slam of the front door woke Vanessa and Dick out of their slumber. They heard Josh clatter into the kitchen and make more noise in there than when the children got their own breakfast.

“Bloody hell,” said Dick. “What's wrong with him?”

“Shall we go and see?” asked Vanessa. “I owe him an apology anyway.”

“Yeah,” said Dick. “And we can tell him about Jo, too.”

They jumped into their clothes and went downstairs, where they found Josh standing by the kettle.

“Josh!” greeted Vanessa. “How nice to see you!”

“I went to see Jo,” he told the kettle. “And she's a fucking bitch.”

Vanessa and Dick stopped in their tracks.

“Ri-ight,” said Vanessa thoughtfully. “I just wanted to say—”

“You're better off without her.” Josh turned to Vanessa, his face pale with anger. “I went all the fucking way to no-man's-land, where I had to be polite to her father—a man who makes the Godfather look like
Mahatma Fucking Gandhi—to tell her how much the kids miss her and how much you two need her to save your doomed marriage because Dad's so scared of you he's—”

“Son—” began Dick.

“Sorry.” Josh took a breath. “Sorry. And guess what? Did she thank me for my pains? Did she buggery. She called me a ‘two-faced hypocritical scrounging bastard with a Peter Pan complex.'” He stopped and laughed. “‘A two-faced hypocritical scrounging bastard!'” he repeated.

“Why?” asked Vanessa and Dick at the same time.

“With a Peter Pan complex!” he finished.

“Why?” they repeated.

“How the hell should I know?” he asked.

“Oh dear,” said Vanessa. “What did you say to her, Josh?”

“Oh it's my fault, is it?” burst Josh. “Of course! I should have known—it's always Josh's fault. Even when I'm the one trying to save the day—
especially
when I'm the one who's trying to save the day. Josh the Accident Waiting to Happen. Josh the Guilty until Proved Innocent—”

“I didn't mean that,” interrupted Vanessa. “I just thought maybe you'd triggered something, and we might be able to work out why she said that.”

“Well,” he said, “I clearly said something a two-faced hypocritical scrounging bastard with a Peter Pan complex would have said.”

He looked at their pained faces.

“She accused me of living here rent-free while earning a fortune, neither of which is remotely true—”

“Oh dear,” said Vanessa.

“I wish they were!” continued Josh. “I wish I did earn a bloody fortune—it might help me deal with the fact that I hate my job and the fact that my dad lives in fear of his wife.”