Читать книгу Nanny Makes Three - Joan Kilby - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

YAWNING, ALICE ANN snuggled deeper beneath her raspberry-pink comforter and hugged her stuffed Piglet closer. Her hair was still damp from her bath and dark brown tendrils curled around her cheeks.

Gregory, sitting on the edge of the bed, reached over to turn out her bedside lamp. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Daddy?” she said sleepily. “Why can’t Melissa be my nanny? She smelled pretty. Like flowers.”

“Did she?” Gregory asked, pretending he didn’t remember, even though he recalled quite clearly the scent of violets and wild roses.

“So can she, Daddy?”

“She’s not a nanny, sweetheart. Even if she wanted the job, the question of who looks after you is an important decision. We need to consider qualifications and experience, not just how nice a person is or how she smells. I only want what’s best for you. Do you understand?”

“I guess so.” She sighed and hugged Piglet closer.

“I’m going to call Mrs. Blundstone tomorrow.”

“Not Mrs. Blundstone!” Alice Ann sat up, her arms braced against the bed. “She’s a witch. She’ll turn me into a cane toad! Then she’ll make me blow up like a balloon and ’splode into yucky stuff and fly all over the place and go splat and—”

“Alice Ann. Where do you get these crazy ideas?” Gregory said sternly. “Mrs. Blundstone has many years’ experience both as a teacher and as a nanny.”

“I hate her!” His daughter flung herself back onto her pillow. “She never smiled at me, not once. And she didn’t say hi to Benny.”

Gregory smoothed her tangled hair back from her forehead. “I need to talk to you about Benny.”

Her scowl faded into a smile that put a dimple in her right cheek. “He’s nearly as big as the other weaners now, isn’t he, Daddy?”

“Yes, he is. Benny’s a fine pig. A valuable pig.” Gregory paused. This was as difficult for him to say as it would be for his daughter to accept. “You see, sweetheart, the time has come for the weaners to leave our farm.”

A tiny frown creased Alice Ann’s forehead. “Why? This is their home.”

“Not…forever.” Gregory cleared his throat.

She straightened up. “But you don’t mean Benny.”

“Benny, too, I’m afraid.”

Alice Ann clutched her Piglet, anxious and angry. “He’ll miss me so much. Why does he have to go away?”

Gregory scratched the back of his head, feeling perspiration form on his scalp. “He’s getting big. It’s time for him to leave, to go to…a better place.”

“How can it be better when he won’t have me to play with?” Alice Ann argued. “Where is he going?”

“It’s a special place just for pigs,” he fibbed, hating himself. “Benny will love it. You want Benny to be happy, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She thought for a minute. “Is it like the resort Grandma Finch went to on the Gold Coast?”

“Well…” Gregory began, then stalled.

“A pig resort!” Eyes shining, Alice Ann paid no attention to her dad’s protest as she danced Piglet across her pink coverlet. “Benny’s going to a five-star pig resort.”

“Wait a minute—”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” she declared, rapidly embellishing. “A fancy chef will make his favorite slop. There will be green fields where he can lie in the sun—” with an elaborate sigh she sank blissfully into her pillow “—all day long.”

“It sounds mighty fine,” Gregory said, smiling despite himself. “The weaners might like it so much they won’t want to come home.”

“Not Benny.” Alice Ann shook her head solemnly. “He’s my extra specialest piggy. He’ll come back as soon as he can. And if he doesn’t, we’ll go get him, won’t we, Daddy?”

“We’ll see.”

“We will.” She nodded decisively, settling the matter.

Gregory tucked the covers around her. “Time to sleep now.”

She yawned. “I liked her dangly earrings, too.”

Melissa again. Gregory recalled the way her earrings had cast feathery shadows over the soft skin and fragile bones at the base of her neck. Ridiculous bits of fluff and frivolity, totally out of place on a farm.

“She has a tiny weeny space between her front teeth just like me.” Alice Ann bared her teeth to show him the gap.

Gregory smiled. As if he didn’t know every freckle and hair on his daughter’s precious body. He’d noticed Melissa’s teeth, too, though. That kind of perception was unusual for him.

“Mrs. Blundstone will make a wonderful nanny,” Gregory said. “She’ll bake cookies, play dress up and read you all the storybooks you want.”

He stopped, realizing Mrs. Blundstone had said nothing about cookies and playing dress up. When he’d interviewed her, she’d talked about reading readiness and giving Alice Ann a head start on arithmetic. Which was good because that’s what he wanted in a nanny.

“I’m tired, Daddy,” Alice Ann told him, yawning again. “Night-night…”

“Sleep tight…” he replied, falling in with their nighttime ritual.

“See you tomorrow…” Alice Ann’s eyes fell shut. In the lamplight her lashes were soft crescents against her rosy skin.

“In the morning light,” Gregory finished softly. He touched the back of his finger to her cheek, but his baby was already fast asleep.

MELISSA’S FLASHLIGHT illuminated a small lounge room packed with furniture. There were three couches plus one…two…three…four armchairs. There was an outdoor table and a kitchen table, both with chairs piled upside down on top. A narrow walkway next to the wall led around a breakfast bar to the galley kitchen. Cardboard boxes were piled in the far corner of the lounge room. To the right, a doorway presumably led to the bedrooms.

“Diane?” she whispered again, “it’s me, Melissa.”

A scuffling sound from a back room caught Melissa’s attention. Diane peered around the doorway, shielding her eyes from the light with her hand. Melissa turned the flashlight beam on herself. “It’s me,” she repeated.

Diane whispered to her children to stay back, and came into the room. “What are you doing here?”

Josh and Callie ignored her warning and crept after her, Callie clutching the hem of her mother’s blouse.

“I brought you some food and blankets.” Melissa edged between the couches and the wall. She laid the blankets over the back of a couch and set the bags of food on the breakfast bar. From her shoulder bag she produced a large bottle of water she’d had in her car.

“You shouldn’t have come.” Melissa could tell by the tense expression on Diane’s narrow face just how frightened she was. “Someone could have seen you or heard your car.”

“I left my car on the road. No one saw me.” Melissa began unzipping the bags of food. “Are you hungry? My mother’s roast lamb is sensational. I couldn’t bring the gravy, but I’ve got salt and pepper. I didn’t even think about plates or cutlery. Is there some in the kitchen? There’s roast pumpkin and potatoes—” She broke off, realizing Diane and her children remained silent. “Don’t you like lamb?”

“We love lamb.” Diane drew in a deep breath and blinked. “Don’t we, kids?”

“All we’ve had today was crackers and cheese,” Callie said, “and apples.”

Josh eyed the sliced meat and potatoes. “I’m starving.”

“Come and eat,” Melissa urged, stepping back to make room for them.

Diane went to the kitchen curtains and tugged them closer until they overlapped. “Someone might see your flashlight.” She helped Josh and Callie to a piece of meat and a potato each. “The cottage has been stripped of everything. There are no dishes. No water or electricity.”

“How did you get in?” Melissa asked.

“The door was open,” Diane said with a shrug. “Yesterday we arrived to stay with Constance next door. When she wasn’t home we didn’t have anyplace else to go. So we waited over there unitl it was dark, then snuck in here.”

The explanation only sparked more questions, but food came first. The children ate ravenously, taking bites before they finished chewing the previous mouthful. Diane consumed her food with a refined yet single-minded intensity that was as revealing as if she’d gorged herself.

When they finished eating, Diane wiped her hands on a tea towel Melissa had stuffed in the bag with the food, and handed the towel to Josh. She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Thank you. The children will sleep better tonight just having a full stomach.”

“You were on the news tonight.”

Diane’s head came up sharply. “What did they say?”

“That you’d disappeared from home, and the police aren’t ruling out foul play.”

“What’s foul play, Mummy?” Callie asked.

“It’s when the ball goes out of bounds,” Josh explained. “Now shush.”

“Your husband is offering a reward.” Melissa watched Diane’s face. “He’s worried you might be hurt.”

“Hurt! That’s a good joke,” Diane said bitterly. “And he’s a good actor. He ought to be, considering how much practice he gets.”

“He said he won’t rest until he finds you and brings you home,” Melissa added.

“Oh, he wants us back, all right. He’s short-listed for a seat on the Supreme Court. He’d lose all hope of that if his wife brought charges against him.” Now Diane was studying Melissa’s face. “I guess you’ve figured out that I’ve run away from him.”

“We should go home,” Josh said suddenly. “Maybe he really does miss us and won’t be so angry from now on.”

“I’m sorry, Josh, that’s not an option.” Diane put her arms around her children. “Everything will be all right once we get hold of Constance.”

“Apparently she’s away,” Melissa said. “The farmer didn’t say where or for how long. I couldn’t ask too many questions. It would have seemed odd, since I more or less told him I was a friend of hers. Was she expecting you?”

“No, but she said I could come anytime and bring the kids. I couldn’t reach her before we left. I didn’t even consider the possibility of her being away.” Diane worried at her bottom lip. “She’s retired and lives on her own, so it’s not unusual for her to take off for a day or two, but I should have been able to reach her on her mobile phone. I’ve tried a dozen times and it’s never on.”

“She could be out of range,” Melissa pointed out. “Or even overseas.” She paused. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a motel?”

“I can’t afford it,” Diane said. “James froze the bank accounts. I came away with just the money I had in my purse, and most of that went for the groceries I bought today.”

“What about your credit cards?”

“Canceled,” Diane said. “James talked me into giving up work after we were married, so I was never able to get a credit card in my own name. Anyway, if I went to a motel or used a credit card, the police would be able to track me.”

“Do you have any other friends or relatives you can stay with?”

“My family lives on the other side of the country, in Perth. They think James is some sort of god,” Diane said disdainfully. “I left him once before. My own mother told me to go home and patch things up because he was a ‘good provider.’”

“Well, I’m sure you must have had a solid reason to leave him,” Melissa said.

Diane opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it and turned to Josh. “You kids take the blankets and put them on the bed.”

“It’s dark in there.” Callie pressed herself against her mother’s legs, her fearful gaze on the black doorway.

“Josh, have you got your penlight?” Diane asked.

“Come on, Callie.” Josh took it from his pocket and gave it to his sister to light the way. Then he gathered up the blankets and the two children shuffled into the other room.

Diane waited until they’d gone. In a low voice, she said, “James…abuses me. I put up with it for years because he threatened to take the kids away from me if I divorced him.”

“Surely he couldn’t do that,” Melissa protested.

“I believe he could,” Diane said simply. “He knows everyone in the judicial system, as well as the social-welfare agencies and the police. Everyone either admires him or is afraid of his power and influence. No one would believe me.”

“What made you decide to leave again?”

Diane twisted the glittering diamond on her left hand. She said, in a hard voice, “This time he hurt Callie.”

So it was true. The bruises had been inflicted by Callie’s father. Melissa felt sickened by the thought. “How awful,” she murmured. “What happened?”

Staring into the darkness, Diane said quietly, “We’d been away on a trip and came home to find newspapers piled up on the porch. I was running around doing so many things beforehand that I’d forgotten to suspend our subscription while we were gone. James was furious. He said it was like advertising to burglars that we weren’t home.”

“That’s an honest mistake,” Melissa said. The kind she might make.

“He didn’t think so. He…” Shivering, Diane wrapped her arms around herself. “He punched me in the stomach. He’d never hurt me in front of the kids before. Callie shouted at him to stop. He didn’t want the neighbors to hear so he grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her to her room. She screamed. He yelled at her to be quiet. She kept on screaming… She screamed and screamed.” Diane covered her ears as if to block out the sound. In a voice choked with tears, she said, “James backhanded her across the face and knocked her flying. She was bleeding above her eyebrow.”

“Oh, God.” Melissa’s stomach was churning at the horrible image. Numbly, she groped for a tissue in her purse and gave it to Diane. It seemed a painfully inadequate response.

The woman blew her nose. “I couldn’t stay in that house a minute longer. I will not let him hurt my kids.”

Melissa was silent, recalling the angry purple bruises on Callie’s arm and the side of her face. Men who could do that to their own child were beyond her experience, almost beyond her comprehension.

“How did he get away with it for so long?” Melissa finally asked. “Didn’t anyone notice? Surely he wouldn’t want it known that he, a respected judge, was guilty of wife bashing.”

“He’s careful not to leave marks,” Diane said dryly. “At least until yesterday, when he belted Callie. As for how he gets away with it…” She gave a short humorless laugh. “In public he’s charming. He treats me like a queen. Even our closest friends think our marriage is made in heaven. Except for Constance, James has everyone fooled.”

They’d been standing in the narrow kitchen while they talked. Now, as if drained by her confidences, Diane sagged against the breakfast bar. The torch threw shadows on her face, emphasizing her fatigue and distress.

Melissa went into the lounge room and took a couple of bentwood chairs off the kitchen table. With a sigh, Diane sank onto one and let her limbs relax.

“How does Constance know the truth?” Melissa asked when she was seated, too. “Did you confide in her?”

“She used to live next door to us in Ballarat. One day she came through the back gate to have coffee with me. The kitchen door was open onto the deck.” Diane paused. “Constance saw him hit me. She’s the only eyewitness, the only person who could testify on my behalf in court.”

Melissa frowned, trying to understand how Diane could have so few resources. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

“Constance wanted me to. But when I told James, he threatened to take the children away from me.” Diane smoothed her hands over her pants as if trying to iron out the wrinkles. “He told me exactly who he would call—you’ve probably read their names in the newspaper—and how he would convince them that I was an unfit mother.”

“He was bluffing.” Melissa scoffed, but a chill went through her.

“I’d been on medication for depression after Callie was born,” Diane said with a self-deprecating lift of her shoulder. “Worded right, it becomes a serious mental illness…even though I was always able to look after my children. When Constance moved away she begged me to come live with her, but I was too afraid he would take my kids.”

Whether he could or not, Diane clearly believed it was true. Melissa looked around at the dank cottage hung with cobwebs and smelling of mice droppings. “Why don’t you come home with me? I’m staying with my parents, but I’m sure when I explain your situation they’d be happy to have you.”

“I couldn’t possibly. The more people who know where I am, the greater likelihood that James will find me. He could make trouble for you and your family just because you sheltered me.”

Melissa hated to think of the trouble James could make for her father if he delved into Tony’s past. Some of Tony’s earlier businesses, if not outright illegal, had bent the law. Now that he’d established a thriving and wholly legitimate olive grove, she couldn’t have him brought down by a vindictive judge. “Won’t he persecute Constance?”

“Probably. She says bring it on. She’ll testify against him anytime. I’m desperate enough now to take her up on her offer.”

From the other room they heard a volley of sneezes. Diane rolled her eyes. “Josh is allergic to dust.”

“That’s not good.” Restless, Melissa got up and started tidying the food bags. “I wish I could do something.”

“You’ve done more than enough and I appreciate it,” Diane said. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine here until Constance comes back.”

“Here? You mean, in the cottage?” Melissa asked. “It could be days. Maybe even weeks.”

“There’s a tap outside the barn for water and we’re using the outdoor toilet,” Diane told her. “The farmer is away during the day and the farm is so far from the road that no one driving by will notice us if we don’t move around too much.”

“What about food?” Melissa glanced at the remains of the lamb. “There’s enough here for another meal, but after that…”

“Constance has an apple tree in her yard. And we can take some of the eggs. We won’t be able to cook them, so we’ll just have to learn to swallow quickly.”

Melissa shuddered at the thought. This probably wasn’t the best time to remind her she could get salmonella poisoning by eating raw eggs. “What about the dog?”

“Josh made friends with her this morning before we went into Tipperary Springs,” Diane said. “She was scratching because she wants to get in and play with him.”

“Maxie’s not your only worry,” Melissa told her. “The farmer is planning to clean out this building for a nanny to stay in. Sooner rather than later by the sounds of it.”

For the first time the woman appeared to lose heart. Her shoulders sagged and in the dim light her fair complexion turned even paler. “I didn’t know. That changes everything. What shall we do?”

Why was she asking her? The way Diane’s gaze was fixed anxiously on Melissa, she seemed to expect an answer. Josh and Callie had come out of the other room and stood in the doorway waiting, like their mother, for her reply.

Melissa tried not to squirm. The thought of Diane and her children being dependent upon her for their well-being in the immediate future was truly scary. If they knew what kind of ditz she was they wouldn’t be asking her for help. But she couldn’t leave them to fend for themselves. Until Constance returned, they had no one else.

She couldn’t take them to her house or even tell her family about them. Friends were out, too. Diane trusted her only because she’d had to after Melissa had barged in.

Melissa couldn’t keep sneaking in here at night. Sooner or later Maxie would catch her outside and bark her fool head off. No, if she was going to bring food and other essentials to Diane and her kids she had to be on the spot. Then she had to find out where Constance was and get her to return home. Meanwhile she had to somehow delay Gregory’s cottage cleanup.

She put on a big smile so Diane and her kids wouldn’t know how nervous she was. “Don’t worry about a thing. I have a plan.”