‘She’s a childcare expert, apparently.’ Luke shrugs. ‘Has a show on TV? I hadn’t heard of her myself.’
I’m so frustrated I feel like slapping him. Number one, obviously I’ve heard of Nanny Sue, and he only hasn’t because he doesn’t watch enough TV. Number two, why are we talking about her and not Sage Seymour?
‘Yes, I have,’ I say grudgingly. ‘I’ve got her book. What about her?’
‘Apparently she’s planning to start a new private enterprise. A kind of …’ He hesitates, not meeting my eye. ‘A children’s behaviour-management camp.’
He can’t be serious.
‘You want to send Minnie to a boot camp?’ The words almost stick in my throat. ‘But … but … that’s ridiculous! She’s only two! They wouldn’t even take her!’
‘Apparently in exceptional cases they will accept children as young as that.’
My mind is swirling in shock. There I was, sitting there happily, thinking he was about to tell me we’re having cocktails with a movie star tonight. And instead he’s saying he wants to send our daughter away.
‘Is it …’ I swallow hard. ‘Residential?’
I feel hollow at the thought. He wants to send her to a boarding school for naughty children. I have a sudden image of Minnie in a braided blazer, her head bowed, sitting in the corner holding a sign saying ‘I must not order sixteen coats off the internet.’
‘Of course not!’ Luke seems shocked. ‘It’ll simply be a programme for children with particular behavioural issues. And it’s only an idea.’ He rubs the back of his neck, still not looking at me. ‘I’ve already spoken to this Nanny Sue. I explained the situation and she seemed very understanding. She’ll come and assess Minnie for us if we like, and make a recommendation. So I made an appointment.’
‘You what?’ I can’t believe this. ‘You’ve already spoken to her?’
‘I was just finding out what the options were.’ At last Luke meets my gaze. ‘Becky, I don’t like the idea any more than you do. But we have to do something.’
No we don’t! I want to yell. And we especially don’t have to invite strangers into our home to tell us what to do!
But I can tell he’s set on this. It’s just like that time on honeymoon when he decided we should take the train to Lahore, not fly. He’s not going to budge.
Well, fine. He can hire all the childcare gurus he likes. No one’s taking Minnie away from me. Let Nanny Sue come and do her worst. I’ll see her off. Just watch me.
D R J AMES L INFOOT
36 H ARLEY S TREET
L ONDON W 1
Rebecca Brandon
The Pines
43 Elton Street
Oxshott
Surrey
3 March 2006
Dear Rebecca
Thank you for your letter of 1 March.
I have never heard of ‘sleep-shopping’. I therefore cannot give you the Latin name for it, nor write to your husband and tell him he must ‘respect your medical condition’.
I suggest you visit your local GP if symptoms persist.
Kind regards
James Linfoot
FIFTEEN
So now I’m not talking to Mum and I’m barely talking to Luke, either.
It’s over a week later. Nanny Sue’s coming today, and I’m totally prepared. I feel like a gladiator, ready to go into the arena with all my swingy metal spikes and bludgeons. But I’m still livid with Luke. In fact, the more time goes on, the angrier I feel. How could he have arranged all this without consulting me? We’re at breakfast and we’ve hardly spoken two words to each other. Certainly neither of us has mentioned Nanny Sue.
‘Do you want some more milk, Minnie?’ I say in chilly tones, and reach past Luke for the jug.
Luke sighs. ‘Becky, we can’t go on like this. We have to talk.’
‘Fine. Let’s talk.’ I shrug. ‘What about? The weather?’
‘Well … how’s your work?’
‘It’s OK.’ I stir my coffee noisily.
‘Excellent!’ Luke sounds so hearty I want to cringe. ‘Things are good for us, too. Looks like we’ll be finalizing a meeting with Christian Scott-Hughes any day now. The client’s been wanting to line something up with him for more than a year, so they’re thrilled.’
Whoopee-doo. Like I’m interested in some boring old meeting with Christian Scott-Hughes.
‘Great,’ I say politely.
‘Unfortunately I’m going to have to bollock my personal assistant today. Not so good.’ He sighs. ‘Didn’t see that one coming.’
What? He’s doing what?
I raise my head, unable to keep up my distant demeanour any more. He’s going to bollock Bonnie? How can he bollock Bonnie? She’s perfect! She’s lovely!
‘But … I thought you loved her,’ I say, trying to sound only mildly interested. ‘I thought she was the best assistant you’ve ever had.’
‘I thought so, too. But recently, she’s become …’ Luke hesitates. ‘I can only describe it as “inappropriate”.’
I can’t imagine Bonnie being inappropriate for one moment.
‘What do you mean? What’s she done?’
‘It’s odd.’ Luke passes a hand over his brow, looking perplexed. ‘Most of the time she behaves with impeccable discretion and tact. And then all of a sudden she’ll lurch into territory that frankly is none of her business. Like commenting on my shower gel, of all things.’ Luke frowns. ‘I really think that’s unprofessional behaviour, don’t you?’