The Nanny Read Online Free PDF Page B

curved doors and curved doors handles. It also had every possible modern convenience, including coffeemaker, pasta maker, and bread maker. It was like being in a state-of-the-art witch’s grotto. Every convenience, including the space-age kettle and vast toaster, were made of shining chrome. Not a flower in sight. Her mother would suffer withdrawal symptoms here. And as she looked at the objects all lined up on the wide window ledge of glazed Mediterranean tiles, Jo felt tempted to agree with her mother. She felt like she was in the middle of a chrome battlefield.
    Meanwhile, necessities like the fridge were disguised behind matching (purple? lavender? blue? lilac?) doors. Only the fridge was conspicuous thanks to its icemaker, and near it, the large, kidney-shaped sink was completely empty and clean, thanks to the expertly disguised dishwasher. Jo tried to remember if she’d ever seen her mother’s sink empty. Instead of two taps, the sink had one burnished brass tap that looked like an old-fashioned pump. Surrounding the sink, and stretching out luxuriously over all the cupboards, a shining, curvy pine work top glistened luxuriously.
    Jo took it all in then glanced back at Dick, nodding pleasantly. She might never see this place again—she had to take in as much as possible. Dick moved to another door behind him, and what Jo had assumed was a cupboard was in fact a good-sized utility room, with another, larger though less beautiful, sink. There the dryer, washing machine, ironing board, and iron were kept. The room was as big as her mother’s kitchen. Jo was beginning to wish she’d brought a camera.
    Dick let her stare. God, he loved this bit. It was well worth taking a Saturday off work to enjoy all this young, provincial adoration. And heloved it when they tried to pretend they weren’t bowled over by the house, as if he couldn’t read it all over their faces. This was where they usually became deferential and tongue-tied.
    â€œYour home is absolutely beautiful,” said Jo warmly. “I feel like I’ve stepped into a glossy magazine.”
    Dick laughed with some surprise.
    â€œOh! Well! Thank you,” he said. “You’re very kind. My wife should really take all the credit—”
    A woman appeared at the kitchen door. “Are you talking about your ability to dress yourself again, darling?” she interrupted Dick as she approached Jo. “Vanessa Fitzgerald.”
    â€œJo Green.”
    â€œThank you so much for coming down to see us.”
    â€œNot at all. Once you’re on the train it isn’t—”
    â€œWhere are you from again?” Vanessa wandered toward the kitchen table and thrones.
    â€œNiblet-upon-Avon, a tiny little village just near Stratford.”
    They shook hands firmly.
    â€œHow lovely.”
    â€œOh, have you been to Warwickshire?”
    â€œNo. But I hear it’s on a par with Tuscany.”
    â€œUm. Well, it’s very beautiful.”
    â€œRight,” said Vanessa, shooing the cat away. “Let’s start.” The cat resettled itself farther down the table, ready for the show.
    The two women sat down. Vanessa gave Jo a tight grin.
    â€œI’ll just file the previous applicants.” She scrunched up five CVs and threw them in the bin. “We’re hiring a nanny,” she smiled, “not doing ‘Care in the Community.’”
    â€œGod, darling,” said Dick from the kitchen. “I love it when you’re inhuman.”
    Unable to watch Vanessa read her CV, Jo studied Dick as he busied himself in the kitchen. He was what Jo could only describe as a handsome older man. If he had been twenty years younger she would be feeling significantly rosy-cheeked. But age had certainly softened his edges. He was in his late forties possibly early fifties and was wearing a navy crew-neck sweater with the latest fashion jeans. Somehow they didn’t look too youthful on him. She