The Nanny - Part 50
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Part 50

Josh was so livid he could barely drive out of Niblet. When he pa.s.sed a picture-book pub, he stopped, parked the car, and stormed into it.

"We don't open till seven," said a stunned landlady.

"I'll give you 100," said Josh.

"What'll you have?" She smiled.

"Vodka. Double."

He sat at the bar and downed his double vodka in exactly the manner he a.s.sumed a two-faced, hypocritical scrounging b.a.s.t.a.r.d with a Peter Pan complex would.

Vanessa snuggled up to her husband under the duvet. He gave a contented groan.

"How come Josh wants the shop then?"

"He says he's sick of being an accountant," said d.i.c.k. "Wants to give the shop a go. Wants to buy the flat above it as well, either to rent out or to live in himself if he can afford it."

Vanessa sighed.

"It would save my life," said d.i.c.k. "I wouldn't be able to sell it for half as much to anyone else. But of course, he's pretending I'd be doing him the ma.s.sive favor, as usual."

"Wow," she said. "I'm beginning to see him in a new light."

"Good."

"Now we just have to work on Toby."

d.i.c.k sighed. "Poor lad. By the time he was Tallulah's age, I'd already left."

There was a long pause. "G.o.d," breathed Vanessa. "I never thought of it that way."

"Thank G.o.d we're not going to repeat that pattern," whispered d.i.c.k.

"Of course not!" said Vanessa, kissing his cheek.

"I thought we were going that way," d.i.c.k whispered, hiding his face in her hair.

"I can't believe you thought I loved you for your money," she said.

"I didn't think that exactly," said d.i.c.k. "I just thought you'd love me less for having less of it."

She held his face in her hands and made him look at her.

"If you said you wanted to give up work tomorrow and be a house-husband, I'd be the happiest woman in the world."

d.i.c.k stared at her. "I want to give up work tomorrow and be a house-husband."

Vanessa stared back at him. They stared at each other in the dark.

"Really?" she croaked.

"You didn't mean it did you?" said d.i.c.k, turning away.

"I did."

He turned back to see the expression on her face.

"We'd have to do without Jo, of course," he said.

"Why?"

"Well, we'd only have your salary."

"I want to get a better salary, move jobs. I was going to tell you tonight."

"You want to leave your job?" he asked.

"Yep."

"Why?"

She shrugged and looked away. "More money. Better job. Want to be appreciated. Meet new people. Stop meeting the morons there."

"Because we need more money?"

"Not especially. I just think it would be nice, don't you? But anyway, I'd have had enough to pay for Jo now, if only you'd come to me."

d.i.c.k smiled. "Didn't I marry well?"

Vanessa smiled. "Not as well as me."

d.i.c.k tutted. "Typical. I can't even beat you at that."

She laughed and kissed her husband. They lay back, staring at the ceiling together.

"But will you want Jo there all the time?" she asked. "Won't she cramp your style with the children?"

d.i.c.k considered this for a moment. "I don't actually have a style to cramp."

"I mean, you'll want to be your own boss where they're concerned."

"But they'll miss her terribly," said d.i.c.k.

"Mm."

"So will I. She's a pro, and I've got a lot to learn."

"Yeah. She'd be training you, I suppose, like any job. And it's nice having her around too."

"Hmm," said d.i.c.k. "It would be great to keep her as a sort of part-time nanny."

"G.o.d. That would be ideal wouldn't it?"

"Too good to be true."

"Worth asking, I suppose," pondered Vanessa. "She could always do other nanny work to fill in the time."

"Who knows? She might not have to if we don't lower her salary too much. Then she could sort of be on call if I need her."

"Why don't we offer to just take off the raise we gave her?" suggested Vanessa. "So she'd be doing half the hours, still living in, for the same pay she moved all the way to London for."

"Can we afford that?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Of course! Maybe one less holiday, but who cares? You and I will be busy changing our careers. We can have two holidays next year when I'm earning more."

"You're sure?" asked d.i.c.k. "I'd be at home all day with home help and you'd be supporting us all, plus a part-time nanny? It's a ma.s.sive responsibility, Ness."

"At last!" grinned Vanessa. "Recognition!"

d.i.c.k gave her an intense look. "I've always recognized how brilliant you are at your job, Ness." Vanessa searched his face. "I just felt so c.r.a.p at being bad at mine," he explained, "I couldn't be proud of you. Pathetic. And I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"And I certainly think of you as a real woman." He moved in closer to the warmth of her body.

"Good."

He sat up suddenly. "Let's phone Jo now!"

Vanessa sidled over. "In a bit," she whispered, stretching her leg over his.

"Oh if you insist." He sighed, lying back down again. "I suppose it can wait."

Still standing on the bridge, Jo was so angry with Josh she literally didn't know what to do with herself. She kicked some gravel, then raced over the bridge a couple of times and shouted at the river a bit. She considered running to tell Sheila everything, then remembered she couldn't, which made her even angrier. She shouted at the river some more, clenched and unclenched her fists, and shouted again. Then she bought a doughnut from the corner shop and ate it in two bites, which actually helped quite a bit. Then she went for a long stompy walk through the fields, getting her shoes all wet and not caring.

Then she walked home, past the church, where she swore-not too loudly in case the vicar was about-and back over the bridge again where she swore again, rather more loudly.

When her house came into view she felt even angrier. She stopped and looked at it properly. Really looked at it. And felt a few things shift into a new perspective. She stood there for a while, just looking and thinking before walking toward it.

She slammed the front door shut behind her before climbing the stairs.

She sat on her bed. She got up and sat at her dressing table. She looked in the mirror and almost started in shock. She looked like a madwoman. Which made her really angry. There was a knock at her door.

"What?"

Her father opened it, and Jo sat rigidly, waiting for him to tell her off.

"Your mother wants to know what's up," Bill said.

"Oh, you're talking to me now, are you?"

He grunted. "If you're going to be like that-" He started shutting her door.

"Like what?" asked Jo, spinning round to look at him. "Like I'm allowed to be the one with feelings for once? Instead of the one indulging everyone else's feelings? Like your feelings? Or Shaun's?"

"Eh?"

"You heard."

"I don't like your tone, young lady."

"Well get over it." She turned back to her mirror.

"How dare-"

"I haven't liked your tone for years, Dad," she told his reflection in her mirror, "but I've just had to live with it. So now you don't like mine. Okay. I'll do you a favor and move out."

Bill watched her as she furiously did her face.

"There's no need-"

"Oh I think there is," Jo said. She scrunched up her face and shut her eyes, as if concentrating. "I'm going to try and sort out a part-time job first thing Monday morning. In London. While signing up for a university course." She opened her eyes.

"What about your mother? You're walking out on your mother?"

"Mum's fine. She's already able to walk up stairs with you standing next to her. She's far more capable than you give her credit for. She's looked after you all these years, hasn't she? And I'm not walking out on her-or you-I'm just living my life."

"Sounds like being selfish to me."

"Well of course it would!" cried Jo, swiveling round to face him. "What's self-preservation for you is selfishness for me and Mum. I only have to watch you with the remote control to see that. It took Mum having a stroke before she was allowed to watch what she b.l.o.o.d.y wanted to on TV. Thirty years with a man who doesn't permit her to watch what she wants on TV. Can you even begin to imagine what that's like, Dad?"

The skin round Bill's eyes thinned. "A man has to be king of his own castle-" he muttered.

"And what must a woman be? In her own home? Chief servant? You think that's fair?"

"Your mother's not my servant."

"No, you're right," shot Jo. "That would mean paying her a wage."

Hilda appeared behind him. Jo looked at her parents and felt her anger drain out of her body.

"What happened?" asked Hilda. She still spoke quietly, but her speed was improving.

"Oh," sighed Jo. "I had a horrid row with Josh. And now I'm taking it out on Dad."