The Nanny (3 page)

“Evidently you do, Sarah. Go on, tell me.”

“Joey isn't a rose, like you said, he's … he's …”

“Thorny?”

“Joey is himself. He's now and she's the past. He stands for what is putting an end to her kind. He is everything which is wrong to her. He is everything she hates and thinks wrong. She is the perfect picture of an English nanny and Joey is precisely the wrong child to be with a nanny.”

“And then this accident occurs. You think she blames him, Sarah?”

“I think we don't know what she thinks. I read all the reports. I know she was told by the psychiatrist what to feel and what to do, and as far as we know, she did it. But, Dr. Bee, women like that have been
trained
not to say what they think! ‘Yes, modom. No, modom. Indeed, modom.' You heard her. I think even her facial muscles are trained. I don't think we know what she feels about anything, but surely the best clue should be Joey's fear of her. Suppose he felt genuine hatred in her touch? Hatred when she bathed or dressed him? Suppose the reason he stopped eating was because when he was given food by her, he sensed that she would have liked it to be poison? And he's seen her when she has come here with his mother. Suppose he knows that she still hates him?”

“You believe Joey is terrified but cannot tell us?”

“I think he won't tell us because he believes his mother needs her. Home has to include her. Dr. Bee, I think his mother as good as said as much when she visited him. She hints at it in her letters: Mommy needs Nanny.”

“In other words, you believe Joey is a little hero, a knight in shining armor? He will ride into the dragon's cave.”

“Because the dragon's cave is also home and he wants terribly to go home. And also I think he has to go if you send him: He's
eight!
And you still think … and you're right … that I don't want to give Joey up, but that doesn't
vitiate
my belief that those two are wrong together!” Sarah ran both hands through her hair and pulled it. “Dr. Bee, that woman's picture of what a child should be is her religion and Joey is anathema! Yes, yes; that ceramic figure of Joey is her anti-Christ, her anti-Christ!” She stopped, gasping. “You think I go too far, Dr. Bee?”

“I think you're acting out,” he said, and even his use of this currently fashionable term showed her how distressed he was. “Now, let me tell you what I think, Sarah. You may be right. The nursemaid may hate Joey. I'm supposed to be the first to admit that adults can hate children. She may feel that we are guilty not to punish him for what he did … may feel that the death of the little brother was a crime, not an accident; but I have spoken to this old woman, too. She is not unbalanced, a solid piece of Victorian furniture. And I have read the reports on her both from Joey's family and from the English people for whom she worked … my God … for fifty years. One thing I am convinced of … this is a woman who will only do what she can believe is right. Once she believes she is right, nothing can stop her. That is why she could break children in so successfully. Now, maybe Joey
is
afraid this woman will kill him. All right. But will she kill him? We aren't talking about a spanking, anything like that?”

“No. No.”

“Perhaps Joey is in terror she will kill him, but will she kill him? Answer, Sarah! As Mrs. Wilson said, ‘An eye for an eye …'”

Sarah saw Joey's eyes. “A tooth for a tooth” … she saw the gap where one of his second teeth hadn't come in right.

“Answer, Sarah! This woman would have to believe it was right. Can you think of any rationalization she could make to herself to justify the murder of an eight-year-old boy?”

“I don't know.”

“You must do better than that.”

She said reluctantly, “I can't see any way in which anybody sane could rationalize murdering a child.”

“Very well, then. Joey will have to ride into the cave and fight off his dragon. Eight or eighty, we all must.”

Victor rang for Althea and she picked up her dictation notebook and pencil and put on a “more-letters-today-I'll-never-get-through” expression. It didn't fool anyone in the office. They all knew about Mr. Fane and Althea Gore-Green.

She opened the door to Victor's office; said, “Yes, Mr. Fane?”; closed the door and said, “Hi, darling.”

“Hi. Althea, that phone call I had from Miss Schwartz in Joey's school? Well, she seems to think we should get rid of Nanny.”

“Victor,
why?
But Nanny's a marvelous old thing. Why?”

“Hell, she went on and on. She's one of those progressive girls. They put a lot of stock in all that psychiatric crap.”

“But Nanny took care of me, Victor, and you think she did a good job, don't you, darling? And you know how Mummy dotes on her: And Granny! Why, she's the dearest old thing in the world. What does Miss Schwartz know about Nanny, anyhow?”

“It doesn't matter what Miss Schwartz knows, Althea. This is the point. I'm going to get rid of her. Now, I have to be brutally frank. I'm going to get rid of her, not because of Miss Schwartz, but because I want it to be just the three of us, Virgie, Joey and me. I want to give us one final chance to be a family now that Joey's coming home.”

“Now, look here, Victor!”

“Don't say anything you'll be sorry for, Althea.” She didn't, but she tore the shorthand notebook into two pieces and threw them into the trash basket; then she broke her pencil in half and flung that in after it. Victor was unmoved. “I am going to give Virgie another chance, Althea. She is my wife.”

“Your wife! Your wife! If you had a wife, Victor, you wouldn't look at me. I know—you used to have a wife and she was marvelous and I couldn't get near you!”

“Please, Althea, don't. What happened between us … and I suppose only a bastard would bring it up, but … hell, I remember how it happened and so do you. I don't have to justify my decision to you. I didn't seduce you exactly, did I? I never made you any promises, no matter what Virgie is now. I never once said I'd get a divorce and marry you.”

“I love you, Victor. I've loved you since … forever, it seems … Victor.” She came close to him but didn't dare touch him, couldn't; he was icy. “Victor, you must love me, too. You must. I'll make you love me. I'll make you so happy, Victor.”

“This is for your sake, too. There's got to be a showdown for your sake, too, and what I'm doing is fairer to you than I have been. I think you know that. No. This has got to be settled one way or another. I mean it.”

He meant it.

Now that the scene was over, because he saw it was over, he could unfreeze. “It's going to be one way or another. Now, what I want you to do, Althea, is ask your mother if she'll take Nanny back.” She shook her head. “If you won't, I'll do it, Althea, and she's bound to think that's rather odd.”

“All right.”

“Good. Tell your mother and get on to a domestic employment agency and tell them we want a good maid by next Friday. And, Althea, get my house for me, please. I'm not going to meet you tonight. I want to call Virgie and ask her to meet me at the Plaza for dinner.”

The tears started. “You don't waste any time.”

“There isn't any time to waste so please get my house for me.” He saw that she would have to stand there with her back to him until she could control herself, but that she would do it. He cursed himself and her and fate which had so changed his wife that such a thing as this was possible. Then he signed the letters Althea had already typed.

Nanny picked up the telephone. “The Fane residence,” she said. “One moment, please, sir.” She went to Virgie. “It's Mr. Fane, Madam.” Her eyes held Virgie's for a little, giving her the strength she needed whenever Victor wanted to talk to her unexpectedly.

Virgie touched her hair, her necklace; she straightened her belt. “Nanny, Mr. Fane wants me to meet him at the Plaza for dinner. The man he was supposed to have dinner with missed his plane, so he says it's an opportunity to celebrate Joey's coming home. We're going to eat in the Oak Room and then go dancing. I have to dress,” Virgie said and began to tremble. “I have nothing to wear! I haven't bought a dinner dress for … for …” She began to flutter.

“Why doesn't Madam wear the pretty blue frock?”

“It won't fit! I've gained so much weight since …”

“Let us try it on,” Nanny said placidly. “Perhaps Nanny can let out a seam.”

Waiting in Dr. Bee's office—he had asked her to come in as soon after supper as possible—Sarah went to the window and looked at the grounds. It was very still out, even more quiet than it should have been, because the shrubberies, which must have surrounded the big old house when the School took it over, had all been removed since many of the children were so fearful of seeing gangsters and comic book or TV villains lurking in them. The ivy had been stripped from the walls because it rustled at night and also any branch of the surrounding trees which might conceivably tap against the windows had been sawed off. Because it was so still, she could hear her own breathing, her own heartbeat, and when Dr. Bee came in, she jumped. She noticed that tonight Dr. Bee went and sat behind his desk, formally; that he picked up his pipe and laid it down again. Very solemnly, he asked her to pull up one of the Eames chairs.

“Sarah, I had a call from Mr. Fane. He wanted to tell me he had taken our advice and was getting rid of the English nursemaid.”

She said defiantly, “I'm glad.”

“I would like to get this straight, Sarah. After our talk, you called Mr. Fane, representing the School, and gave him this as our advice?” She shook her head. “As yours. I see. Sarah, you shouldn't have done that. We cannot tell parents how to run their lives.”

“I was thinking of Joey. Olaf glued the figure together again, but if that woman … you can't glue Joey together again!” She waved at Dr. Bee. “Don't say it, please. I know. I'm not suited to this work after all. I agree with you. I'm too fearful. I'm too emotional. I'm too imaginative.”

“Ah, Sarah, Sarah … too … how shall I put it … too active! They also serve Joey who only stand and wait. Psychiatrists stand … well,
sit
and wait. It is safer. How do you know what you have started here, Sarah?”

“I don't, of course.”

He saw that she did not believe this, that she was satisfied she had helped Joey, and he sighed. “Ah, Sarah!”

“Whatever I've started there, I know I'm finished here. But unless you object, I would like to stay until Joey leaves. I'll leave Friday evening, Dr. Bee.” She felt good at having defied Dr. Bee. She felt bad about it, too, and could guess how Dr. Bee would interpret this ambivalence towards a father figure, but she didn't mind. She cared only about Joey because he was the one who needed the most care.

Sarah forgot, however, that by leaving on Friday night she would not, as she had promised, be there at the other end of the telephone should Joey need her.

Heaven alone knew what it had cost Victor to have Mario give him the next-to-the-corner table in the Oak Room. It wasn't like the old days when they had been steady customers. But of course, Virgie told herself, Victor might have been bringing business people here all along. Victor might still be a good customer even if she hadn't been there for two years. That was Peter Ustinov at the corner table. Peter Ustinov looked at her as if she were pretty.

Victor said, “I'm so glad we're doing the town tonight, Virgie, because after Friday you won't want to be leaving Joey evenings until he gets used to being home again.”

Virgie said, “Oh, Joey will be all right with Nanny! I'm going to try not to be overprotective, Victor, I really am.” She noticed that the piece of lobster which Victor had on his fork now dropped back onto his plate again.

Victor laid his fork down. “Virgie … about Nanny …”

The timid pleasure she had begun to feel because Victor was spending the evening with her, because she was dining out in a dinner dress, because Peter Ustinov had glanced at her, flickered like a candle in the wind.

“There isn't going to be any Nanny after Thursday, Virgie.”

She thought,
I can't. I can't. Not yet
. “Why, Victor?”

“The School called me at the office.”

“It wasn't Dr. Berkover, was it, Victor? It was that Sarah Schwartz! Dr. Berkover didn't say that he didn't want us to have Nanny!”

“No. Miss Schwartz.”

“Victor, you know Joey never
told
them that he was afraid of Nanny. Victor, I think they just made up this theory. Victor, you know we're against all that analysis stuff. Oh, you used to get so mad at the nursery school psychiatrist when she … Oh, Victor, it can't be true that Joey is afraid of Nanny. She's so good. She's been so good, Victor. We couldn't have gotten along without her. She's done everything for us, Victor, we can't just throw her out. It's inhuman! How can we, Victor? She's seventy-four, she can't go out and get another job!” The wail which had been mounting inside her broke out. “Victor, Victor,
please!”

“No. We'll get a good maid, Virgie.”

“Nanny knows we have to do things just the way the School did them. She knows that. I told her we'd have to do exactly what they did there. We went over it and over it.” She had said,
“In that school, Nanny, they don't make Joey do anything.”

“No, Madam.”

“They don't make him eat if he doesn't want to. He doesn't have to keep clean. He doesn't have to pick up after himself. They said he may have a need to show he can make us pick up after him, Nanny.”

“Quite, Madam.”

“
If he doesn't want to, he doesn't have to take a bath. He can stay dirty as a pig if he wants to.”