Surrey
6 February 2006
Dear Rebecca
Thank you for your letter of 1 February.
The Chancellor has indeed made a recent speech in which he highlighted the importance of retail to the British economy.
Unfortunately at this time there are no specific OBEs or damehoods ‘for shopping’ as you suggest. Should such an honour be introduced I will be sure to put your name forward.
I therefore return with thanks your package of receipts and store tags, which I looked at with interest and agree shows ‘real commitment to sustaining the economy’.
Yours sincerely
Edwin Tredwell
Director of Policy Research
NINE
A week later, I still haven’t decided what to do about Elinor. The truth is, I’ve barely given her a thought, I’ve been so busy. We’ve been deluged by customers wanting to use our secret-shopping service! It’s amazing! The TV news headlines might be all dismal about how the high street is dead and no one’s shopping … but they should come to our department, it’s buzzing!
And I’m even more preoccupied than usual today, because our new Ultimate Nanny is starting.
She’s called Kyla and she’s fab. She has a degree from Harvard and a Masters in childcare, and she’s a qualified teacher in Mandarin and tennis and the flute and the guitar and singing and … something else which I’ve forgotten. The harp, maybe. She originally came over to Britain with an American family, but they relocated back to Boston and she decided to stay because she’s doing a part-time dissertation at Goldsmiths and has family over here. So she only wants to work three days a week, which is perfect for us.
And she’s got these real buck teeth.
I mean, huge. Like a moose.
Not that her looks are relevant, either way. Obviously. I’m not some sort of prejudiced, lookist person. I still would have hired her even if she’d had a million-dollar supermodel’s smile.
But still. Her teeth warmed me to her for some reason. Plus her hair isn’t remotely swishy.
Which, by the way, was not on my ‘interview points’ list. When I wrote No Swishy Hair I was referring to something else completely, and Luke did not have to start teasing me. I just happened to notice Kyla’s hair – just out of interest – and it’s a very dull bob with a few greys.
So basically she’s perfect!
‘Julie Andrews is going to be here soon, is she?’ Mum comes into the kitchen, where Minnie is doing Play-Doh and I’m idly browsing eBay. She catches sight of the page and draws breath sharply. ‘Are you shopping, Becky?’
‘No!’ I say defensively.
Just because I’m on eBay, it doesn’t mean I’m going to buy anything, does it? Obviously I don’t need a pair of turquoise patent Chloé shoes, worn once, PayPal only. I’m just keeping up to date with what’s out there. Like you keep up with current events.
‘I hope you’ve got Minnie’s lederhosen ready?’ Mum adds. ‘And your whistle?’
‘Ha ha,’ I say politely.
Mum’s still really prickly about us hiring a nanny. She got even more offended when Luke and I wouldn’t let her do the interviews with us. She hovered outside the door, tutting and clicking her tongue and looking each candidate up and down disparagingly. Then, when she read Kyla’s CV, with all the stuff about the guitar and singing, well, that was it. She instantly christened Kyla Julie Andrews and has been making little oh-so-funny jokes ever since. Even Janice is in on it and has started calling Luke Captain von Trapp, which is really annoying, because that makes me either the dead wife or the Baroness.
‘If she wants to make clothes out of the curtains, can you tell her to use the ones in the blue room?’ Mum adds.
I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that. And anyway, my phone is ringing. It’s Luke’s ID on the screen – he must want to know how it’s going.
‘Hi!’ I say as I answer. ‘She’s not here yet.’
‘Good.’ He sounds crackly, as though he’s in a car. ‘I just wanted to say something to you before she arrives. Becky, you must be honest with her.’
What’s that supposed to mean?
‘I’m always honest!’ I say, a tad indignantly.
‘This nanny needs to know the extent of the problem,’ he continues as though I haven’t even spoken. ‘We’ve hired her for a reason. There’s no point pretending Minnie’s a saint. We need to give her the history, explain the trouble we’ve had—’
‘OK, Luke!’ I say, a bit crossly. ‘I don’t need the lecture. I’ll tell her everything.’