Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Paige
The black cab lets us off at a farmhouse surrounded by fields and overgrown grass.
We’re the only property as far as the eye can see.
The two-story white stucco house with a black painted front door has a thatched roof.
A thatched roof. Somehow I missed that my rental property is protected from the rain by bundles of hay.
The cab driver had to tell me how to refer to the bunches of, likely, mold-infested straw on the top of my house.
I’ll have to comb the internet later for how much of a problem this is.
Fingers crossed there’s no mice living in the attic.
Maybe I should have flown to England to look at houses. I’m still not sure how far this place is from Bedford since the cab picked up Joey and me from the airport and brought us here.
With Joey perched on my hip, we watch the black cab turn around in the spacious laneway. The property is so much more isolated than I realized from the pictures. God, I really am all alone. And still no confirmed nanny. A heaviness settles over me.
In my mind, I backtrack along the long gravel road, through the thick trees with little deerlike creatures peeking out, and past another farmhouse with a terrier that almost got run over when it tried to bite the cab tires.
Part of me wants to retrace my steps right out of the country and back to somewhere familiar.
Even the air smells different here, but that might just be the various plants the start of April is ushering into bloom.
Everything is so lush, as though someone took a brush and slathered green paint across the countryside.
Two suitcases rest on either side of me.
There’s already a small compact car parked next to the back entrance of the property near a flowering tree.
There should be a key in the house for it so I can shop for groceries, buy supplies for Joey, and otherwise get settled in during the next week before starting work.
The house is supposed to be fully furnished, but I’ve ordered sheets and various other odds and ends that I hope have been delivered.
The company paid someone at the UK office to oversee my arrival from the car to my packages.
As of right now, I still don’t have a live-in nanny, and it’s weighing heavily on my mind.
Several people applied, but when pressed for references, they couldn’t come up with any or ghosted me.
Sitting in my inbox is an email from a single parent named Ashley, but I haven’t emailed her back yet.
No nanny experience, but she’s a mom, apparently.
At least she’ll have some idea of how to care for a child and run a household, unlike many of the random people who have applied.
Turns out offering a better salary doesn’t only attract “ideal” candidates but anyone trying to make a buck even if they don’t have a clue how to properly care for a child or accurately separate laundry.
“Mommy’s going to get the key,” I say. “To our new house.”
Setting Joey on his feet, I lift up the mat to find the heavy metal key Kate said would be here. Joey crouches beside me.
“What’s that?” he asks.
The key is in a style I’ve never seen before—thick and heavy—like something out of a movie. After turning it over in my palm, I let Joey hold it for a minute.
“Should we try it?”
“Yes!”
Lifting him up, I let him slot it into the door, and with my hand bracketing his for more strength, the lock tumbles open. Seems secure enough. Old doesn’t necessarily mean bad, I suppose. Hitching Joey more securely onto my hip, I open the door.
We step into a wide front entrance painted the same white as the exterior.
On the floor is a thick red carpet with some sort of subtle diamond accent.
To the right are several boxes, including one holding a car seat for Joey.
I couldn’t get the brand I wanted here, and the picture doesn’t resemble the one I left behind in Michigan.
Guess I’ll have to figure that out on top of everything else.
The two of us wander through the house with Joey running ahead and pointing at things he doesn’t recognize to ask, “what’s that” over and over.
I’m pleased that most of it is in decent shape.
The kitchen is spacious and has a large black stove with a double oven.
If I was the type to cook big meals, that would be an exciting find.
Hopefully, the new nanny appreciates it.
Upstairs, there are three bedrooms and two bathrooms in a modern style.
Kate said the house is an old country estate, and there’s ample space.
The white walls and red carpet are carried throughout, and when Joey asks to be picked up just to rest his head on my shoulder, I’m reminded of the incoming jetlag.
In the middle room, I get Joey’s crib and baby monitor set up, then find the sheet sets I had delivered down by the car seat.
While he sleeps, I’ll tackle the installation of the car seat and get my bearings for groceries and other necessities.
Easy. All I need is a little organization and the edges of anxiety creeping in will fade away.
Yes, I’m a long way from home, but this is an exciting adventure. But I’d feel a lot better if I knew who’d be looking after Joey and everything house related a week from now. Time is ticking. I can’t go to work and leave him alone, but I also can’t take him into the office for my first day.
With the baby monitor tucked into my back pocket, I stare at the email from Ashley while I’m standing at the front door, the car seat box at my feet.
My phone chimes with a text message, and when I draw it out of my pocket, I see Gwen’s name.
On the off chance it’s not another ten star hotel and safari choice, I open it.
It’s a meme of people watching a lion kill a gazelle with the text “All the employees watching the new boss on the first day.” Am I supposed to be the lion or the gazelle? Knowing Gwen, I’m the lion.
Whoever I hire as a nanny has to last me the full year. I’m not losing the bet to my sister. Who could be better than a fellow single mother? Surely, we’d understand each other—even if my mom friends are few and far between at home.
After letting out a deep sigh, I hit Reply to Ashley and ask for references. Even with no nanny experience, she should be able to find people who’ll say she’s a good mother. If she ghosts me, too, that’s my answer. She’s not the one.
I lug the car seat to the rear doors of the car, and I’m thrown off momentarily by everything being backward.
Wrong side of the road, wrong side of the car.
While I read the installation instructions, I lean against the back door.
Once I think I’ve got it straight in my head, I wrangle the seat into position and get it clipped in.
I’m feeling extremely accomplished until I glance at the front center console, and my blood runs cold.
The car is a stick shift.
I’ve never driven a manual before.
I can’t teach myself to drive a stick shift on the wrong side of the road around unfamiliar streets.
Already, the roundabouts the cab driver managed were a mini mystery to me.
On the way here from the airport, some of them were huge with stoplights in the middle of them and a complicated lane system.
The ones without traffic lights were even worse, with the cab seemingly speeding into moving traffic.
I’ll die in this tiny car from all the things I do not know.
My phone pings with an incoming email, and I slide my device out of my pocket in disbelief. I’m so wrapped up in my transportation crisis that it takes me a minute to realize Ashley has already replied with two names who can verify her parenting skills. Tejinder and Diya.
Guess Mary Poppins was too high of a bar.
I could settle for Maria from The Sound of Music.
Probably won’t get her, either. Might as well see how much worse my luck can get.
I hit Call on Tejinder’s number, and when he answers, the background noise behind him is almost deafening.
Heavy machines are operating close by, and after the third time explaining who I am, he seems to understand why I’m calling.
“Ash?” he yells into the phone. “Ash is a great parent. Great parent to Chloe. Cooks. Cleans. Does a bang-up job with laundry.”
“Good in a crisis? Organized?” There’s so much noise behind him, I’m tempted to hang up. But I need a nanny, and if Ashley can work, it might be a good situation for both of us. Maybe we’ll even be friends.
“Excellent in a crisis. No one better for problem solving.”
There’s definite value in someone who can solve problems without having to be guided through every step, and since this is a new country to me, someone who can help me navigate, quite literally, would also be nice.
The rest of the day, I play phone tag with Diya, and she finally leaves a message that echoes Tejinder.
The message cuts out a bit, but I get the essentials.
Great parent. Capable. Good crisis management skills.
The fact the two of them used almost the same language makes me wonder what crisis Ashley has been handling so well, but I guess if she’s a single parent, it could be a terrible partner. The thought softens me.