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Nanny Makes Three
Nanny Makes Three

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Nanny Makes Three

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“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.”

CHAPTER FOUR

MELISSA KNOCKED on the front door of the farmhouse early the next morning. She was wearing her lucky skirt, a filmy sky-blue cotton number that fell to midcalf, with a white top. The air was scented by the jasmine entwining the pillars of the veranda, and from the paddocks came the soft grunting of the pigs.

The door swung open. Gregory’s black eyebrows arched. “Good morning. Are you out of eggs already?”

He had on a charcoal-gray suit with a crisp white shirt open at the neck. A blue silk tie was slung over his shoulder. Freshly shaved, he smelled faintly of lime and leather.

“I thought you were a farmer,” she declared.

“Only part-time. I’m a lawyer.” Gregory arranged the tie around his neck and flipped the wide end around the narrow one to draw it through the loop. “Thompson, Thompson and Finch, Main Street, Tipperary Springs.”

Melissa heard the thud of small bare feet running on hardwood before Alice Ann poked her head around her father’s leg. “You came back!”

“Hi, Alice Ann.” Melissa smiled at her. “How are you?”

“I’m afraid it’s not a very good time,” Gregory said. “As you can see, I’m getting ready for work. And Alice Ann is going to play school.”

“Are you going in your pajamas?” Melissa asked, bending down to tweak the girl’s uncombed hair.

Alice Ann giggled and pulled at the top of her Miss Piggy pj’s. “No.”

“Go get dressed, quickly now,” Gregory said. Then he turned to Melissa. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to apply for the nanny job, after all.”

Alice Ann had started to leave, but on hearing this she began to jump up and down. “Yay! Say yes, Daddy!”

Gregory hesitated, glancing at his watch. “I have to be at work in forty-five minutes and I need to drop this one off first, but I guess I could give you a quick interview.” He stepped back. “Come in.”

Melissa moved past him into the foyer. In the lounge room to her left unfolded laundry was dumped on one of a facing pair of dark leather sofas. The wood coffee table between them was strewn with papers, coffee cups and dirty plates. A toy barn with plastic fences enclosing small herds of horses, cows and sheep took up most of the area rug.

Gregory led her past that room and into the kitchen, where he waved her to a seat at the table. “Would you like coffee? Only instant, I’m afraid.”

“Instant’s fine.”

While the kettle boiled, Melissa helped him clear away the breakfast dishes so they would have a spot to sit. Her heart sank. This man didn’t need a nanny; he needed an army of maids.

Alice Ann skipped back into the room. She’d dressed herself in a lilac T-shirt, a mauve skirt that was back to front and dark purple socks. Her uncombed brown hair fell in a tangle below her shoulders. She carried her father’s yellow legal pad and pen from the sideboard to the table. Climbing on a chair, she said, “Come on, Daddy. Let’s start the interview.”

“Just a minute.” Over at the counter Gregory made coffee and got out milk and sugar.

“I’ll start.” Alice Ann picked up the pen and turned to Melissa with an air of great seriousness. “Will you tell me bedtime stories?”

Melissa replied, equally solemnly, “Definitely. I don’t always read with accuracy but I have wonderful expression.”

Frowning in concentration, Alice Ann painstakingly printed a couple of wobbly capital letters on the legal pad. She looked up. “What do you mean, ackracy?

Accuracy means correctness,” Melissa explained. “Sometimes I change the story as I go along to make it more interesting.”

“I like the sound of that.” The girl drew a big tick on the legal pad next to the letters she’d printed. She turned to her father. “Don’t you, Daddy?”

Gregory brought the coffee over and sat opposite Melissa. “I’ll be asking the questions from now on,” he said. “Go brush your hair, please.”

“Oh, but I don’t want to miss anything!” Alice Ann stayed where she was.

Melissa raised her eyebrows at this act of insubordination, but Gregory chose to ignore it for the moment, so she shrugged. “Fire away.”

“Are you prepared to live on the premises?” he asked.

“That suits me very well,” Melissa replied. “At present I’m staying with my parents because my house is rented out. I’ve been away for some months…on holiday.”

“I see. Well, my plan is to clear out the cottage this week and turn it into the nanny’s quarters. But the previous owners left a great deal of old furniture stored there,” Gregory said. “Until I get to it, the nanny will have to occupy the guest room in the house.”

“I’m adaptable,” she told him.

Gregory tapped his pen on the legal pad. “I’d like to hear about your experience caring for children. What are your qualifications?”

Ah, now that was her whole problem. She wasn’t trained for anything. “I’m really good at playing dress up. I can bake cookies, too. And make things out of play dough.”

Good grief, she sounded like a candidate for day care herself. She didn’t blame him for that skeptical expression. How would Ally respond to these questions? Her sister would be brisk and efficient. She would radiate competence. Melissa sat up straighter and placed her hands in her lap so she wouldn’t fidget. “I did a lot of babysitting when I was younger. Even now I look after friends’ kids all the time.”

“You wouldn’t spend the day playing,” Gregory informed her. “The successful candidate will be expected to perform light housekeeping duties such as cooking and cleaning, in addition to teaching school readiness.”

“I know my ABC’s,” Alice Ann declared proudly.

“You’re smart!” Melissa said to the little girl. Then she added to Gregory, “Is there to be no playtime?”

“I didn’t say that. If you’re efficient, you should have an hour or so in the afternoon.”

“Oh, I’m very efficient,” Melissa assured him. “Why, I can…” she racked her brain “…wash dishes and talk on the phone at the same time.”

Gregory made a note on his legal pad. Alice Ann did the same, laboriously printing random letters of the alphabet. Melissa craned her neck to see what Gregory was recording about her, but his writing was deeply slanted and close, illegible upside down. His hands were long and strong, the nails clean and well cared for. There was none of the ground-in dirt she used to see in her uncle’s hands, although a thin jagged cut ran across the base of one thumb, where he must have sliced it on wire or something similarly farmlike.

“Punctuality is essential,” Gregory said, looking up. Melissa straightened and paid attention. “You’d have to take Alice Ann to and from play school every morning, which lasts from nine o’clock until noon.”

“Punctuality is my middle name.” Melissa made a show of checking her vintage watch, which kept lousy time but looked great with her outfits. Oops. Quickly she dropped her hands back in her lap before he could see that it was off by ten minutes.

“I don’t approve of corporal punishment,” Gregory added. “Alice Ann never does anything naughty enough to warrant a spanking.”

“I would never do that. I would…” Melissa tried to remember what her friend Jenny called it when she put Tyler on a stool in the hall. Something to do with time…“Time out. I would give her a time out.”

Gregory nodded approvingly and Melissa breathed a sigh of relief. Until he asked, “Can you cook?”

“Can I cook!” Melissa scoffed, bluffing outrageously. “My brother-in-law is the head chef at Mangos. He taught me everything I know.” Which amounted to almost nothing although that wasn’t Ben’s fault.

“Do you have a résumé?” Gregory asked.

“I do!” Melissa was delighted to be able to answer truthfully. She fished in her purse for a couple of folded sheets and handed them across the table. Too late, she realized she’d brought the original, not the revised version Ally had typed up for her.

Gregory perused the marked-up document, his frown growing deeper by the second. He was good-looking for an older man. Okay, slightly older. Fine lines crinkled the corners of his eyes, but his hair was thick and lusciously dark. As Melissa watched, a strand broke away and drifted down his forehead.

“Have you had many other applicants?” Melissa asked.

“It’s only fair to tell you I’m seriously considering offering the job to Minerva Blundstone, a retired educator with six years’ experience as a nanny.”

“Oh. She was my teacher in sixth grade.” Melissa’s heart sank. There was no way she could compete with ol’ Blundy. She was very strict.

“Mrs. Blundstone is a witch,” Alice Ann said with an exaggerated shudder. “She’ll turn me into a mouse, like in that movie. Then a cat will catch and eat me!”

“That’s enough nonsense. Go wash your face and do your teeth, then bring me the hairbrush.”

“But Daddy—”

“No buts.”

With an elaborate sigh, Alice Ann climbed down from the chair and ran into the hall.

“She has a wonderful imagination,” Melissa commented.

Gregory’s dark brows came together. “Sometimes it can be a problem.”

“How so?”

He turned his pen end over end in his long fingers. “The problem is Benny, the runt she’s taken a fancy to. This is my first crop of weaners, and Alice Ann has no idea he and the others are going to be butchered. She’s forever concocting wildly improbable scenarios about his future. Very soon she’s going to be confronted by the reality of farm life.”

“I guess it has to happen sometime.”

“Her mother passed away a year ago. Even though Benny’s only a pig, I hate to burden Alice Ann with another death in her life, another loss. I’m finding it very difficult to break the truth to her.”

“I hope you don’t want the new nanny to give her the bad news?” Melissa asked, horrified at the thought.

“No,” Gregory assured her, “that’s my responsibility.”

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