clues. It was only when other minivans, their back seats alive with squirming children in boaters, plus fours, and leg o’ mutton sleeves, drew up in the lanes either side of her that Anna realised she was on the right track.
“Look, look,” screeched Zak, clambering over the front and then the back seat to bang on the rear window. “It’s Savannah and Siena! They’re overtaking!” As the lights changed, a shining minivan containing two leg o’ muttoned girls sped past.
“Put your foot down, stupid ,”Zakordered Anna. “Catch them up !” Despising herself for being intimidated by an eight-year-old, Anna allowed the speed to creep up a fraction on the dial.
“I’m going to call them.” Zak leant over the front seat, rifling through the Mulberry rucksack and eventually producing a miniature silver mobile phone. He stabbed at the keypad for a few seconds before diving into the bag again. “Bugger, I’ve forgotten their number,” he cursed. “Where’s my Air Book?”
That contact with Savannah and Siena had finally been established was confirmed a few seconds later by muffled whispering and giggling in the back. Anna swallowed and tried not to listen as “Yes…new nanny…I know… ” floated over from the rear.
“No, you don’t come in with me,” Zak ordered imperiously as Anna parked beside the gates of the handsome pair of Queen Anne houses which, to judge from the boaters pouring within and the sign standing proudly without, was St. Midas’s School. “Stay there .”Slamming the door behind him with shattering violence, he ran off.
Waiting for her blood pressure to subside from Dangerous to merely High, Anna sat and watched what she assumed to be a collection of St. Midas’s mothers and fathers milling about the entrance. Sartorial competition seemed stiff, if not positively cut-throat. Pashminas abounded and there seemed more racehorse legs around than at a Grand National starting line-up. The morning sunshine bounced off gleaming, well-cut hair, shining, straight white teeth, and gold and diamond rings. And that was just the men. These people, Anna realised, spent a lot longer preparing for school than their children did.
She stared through the windscreen as she conducted a gloomy résumé of life with Cassandra so far. The word writing had not been mentioned once, although the word nanny had, countless times. Feeling her spirits slump, Anna leant over and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. The view that met her was the far from uplifting one of her black-trousered thighs spread out like flattened sausages on the driving seat. She sighed heavily.
A sharp rap on the window disturbed her musings. Blearily, Anna looked up to see a grinning dark-haired girl wearing a great deal of plum-coloured lipstick. She rumbled in panic for the window button.
“ Geri !”
“Hi, babe. Didn’t realise it was you I was racing down the Cromwell Road in the Bratmobile.”
“I didn’t realise you had children,” Anna said, bewildered. She stared at Geri with renewed admiration. Was there no end to her capabilities? Combining high-powered management executiveship with single motherhood and still finding time to put her lipstick on properly.
“Oh, they’re not mine,” Geri said breezily. “They’re just part of my portfolio of responsibilities. But what about you? That was Zak Knight you had in the car, wasn’t it? Surely…”—her eyes widened—“s urely you’re not…his latest nanny. Are you?”
“ Latest ?”Anna tried to keep the quaver out of her voice.
Geri glanced at her. “Got time for a coffee?”
“Probably not,” said Anna, recalling the Augean list of chores Cassandra had barked at her as she had tottered out of the door en route to A Very Important Meeting. “But it sounds like I’d better.”
***
Cassandra’s hands shook as she took her seat at the long wooden table. Despite her distracted state, she could not help noticing that it was, as usual, polished
“Look, look,” screeched Zak, clambering over the front and then the back seat to bang on the rear window. “It’s Savannah and Siena! They’re overtaking!” As the lights changed, a shining minivan containing two leg o’ muttoned girls sped past.
“Put your foot down, stupid ,”Zakordered Anna. “Catch them up !” Despising herself for being intimidated by an eight-year-old, Anna allowed the speed to creep up a fraction on the dial.
“I’m going to call them.” Zak leant over the front seat, rifling through the Mulberry rucksack and eventually producing a miniature silver mobile phone. He stabbed at the keypad for a few seconds before diving into the bag again. “Bugger, I’ve forgotten their number,” he cursed. “Where’s my Air Book?”
That contact with Savannah and Siena had finally been established was confirmed a few seconds later by muffled whispering and giggling in the back. Anna swallowed and tried not to listen as “Yes…new nanny…I know… ” floated over from the rear.
“No, you don’t come in with me,” Zak ordered imperiously as Anna parked beside the gates of the handsome pair of Queen Anne houses which, to judge from the boaters pouring within and the sign standing proudly without, was St. Midas’s School. “Stay there .”Slamming the door behind him with shattering violence, he ran off.
Waiting for her blood pressure to subside from Dangerous to merely High, Anna sat and watched what she assumed to be a collection of St. Midas’s mothers and fathers milling about the entrance. Sartorial competition seemed stiff, if not positively cut-throat. Pashminas abounded and there seemed more racehorse legs around than at a Grand National starting line-up. The morning sunshine bounced off gleaming, well-cut hair, shining, straight white teeth, and gold and diamond rings. And that was just the men. These people, Anna realised, spent a lot longer preparing for school than their children did.
She stared through the windscreen as she conducted a gloomy résumé of life with Cassandra so far. The word writing had not been mentioned once, although the word nanny had, countless times. Feeling her spirits slump, Anna leant over and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. The view that met her was the far from uplifting one of her black-trousered thighs spread out like flattened sausages on the driving seat. She sighed heavily.
A sharp rap on the window disturbed her musings. Blearily, Anna looked up to see a grinning dark-haired girl wearing a great deal of plum-coloured lipstick. She rumbled in panic for the window button.
“ Geri !”
“Hi, babe. Didn’t realise it was you I was racing down the Cromwell Road in the Bratmobile.”
“I didn’t realise you had children,” Anna said, bewildered. She stared at Geri with renewed admiration. Was there no end to her capabilities? Combining high-powered management executiveship with single motherhood and still finding time to put her lipstick on properly.
“Oh, they’re not mine,” Geri said breezily. “They’re just part of my portfolio of responsibilities. But what about you? That was Zak Knight you had in the car, wasn’t it? Surely…”—her eyes widened—“s urely you’re not…his latest nanny. Are you?”
“ Latest ?”Anna tried to keep the quaver out of her voice.
Geri glanced at her. “Got time for a coffee?”
“Probably not,” said Anna, recalling the Augean list of chores Cassandra had barked at her as she had tottered out of the door en route to A Very Important Meeting. “But it sounds like I’d better.”
***
Cassandra’s hands shook as she took her seat at the long wooden table. Despite her distracted state, she could not help noticing that it was, as usual, polished
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