9. Primrose
PRIMROSE
“Emmy. How are you? How’s your dad?” My questions run into each other as I pick up my phone.
“He’s going to be okay.” The tremoring relief in her answer brings the sting of tears to my eyes.
“’Course he is,” I say as I send a silent thanks to the heavens.
“He’s sleeping right now. Mum’s with him so I thought I’d duck out and give you a quick call to check in. How are things are going?”
“Well! Things are well!”
“Have you been huffing helium?”
“Haha. I mean, I was expecting to be working for a couple of kick-ass entrepreneurs, hey-ho.”
“I told you ages ago I moved jobs.”
“Did you?” I feel myself frown.
“Primrose, don’t take this the wrong way, but with the year you’ve had, I’m surprised you remember anything. All I can say is you must really want to become a doctor.”
I laugh. “I’m sorry I’ve been rubbish at keeping in contact. It’s been intense.” Study, and more study, and then my final exams, plus my assistantship. Sometimes I’m surprised my brain still works.
“I’m in the same city, still doing the same job, so…”
“I can still be sorry for being a crappy friend.”
“Not eve if I can be sorry for surprising you with a single dad.”
“It’s no surprise he’s single with a personality like his.” I didn’t mean to say that.
“Oh no. What happened I know he can seem a little unfriendly on the surface, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen.”
“I didn’t mean like that! But oh my gosh, he’s like, flames, right? So hot.”
Well, I’d like to set him on fire. Not really. Okay, just a little bit. Maybe singe him around the edges or something.
“Prim?”
“Sorry, the call must’ve dropped out,” I say with a wince. “Yeah, he’s something… else.”
“I’m just glad I don’t have to worry about that with you.”
“Worry about what?”
“I know I won’t be coming back to a complicated mess because you’re not going to crush on him. I mean, you don’t even like men,” she adds with a laugh.
“I do,” I protest.
“I don’t mean you’re a man hater, or that you like women. You’re just…”
“I like men,” I say uncomfortably. “It’s just that I don’t find many men attractive.”
That used to be the official line, anyway. Maybe I should change it to I’m attracted to the wrong kind of men.
“I really love my job, Prim. I’m so fond of the kids. I get to travel with them, and my salary is amazing.”
I imagine it would need to be.
“You know, Mr. du Beaumont almost doubled my salary from my last gig.”
“Is that what you have to call him?” There’s no way I’m calling him that. Not after…
I’m not thinking about that.
“I just prefer to keep things professional.”
“That’s good advice.” But a little too after the fact. I’ll just stick to keeping things between us glacial, I think, as I resist the urge to nibble on my thumbnail.
“I suppose it should be monsieur technically, but as I speak to the children exclusively in English, I stick to mister.”
“Makes sense.” I think I’ll call him mister dickhead.
“I’m buying my parents a house,” she says suddenly, her words bursting out of her like a confession. “A new build in Chingford. I put down the deposit last month.”
“Wow, that’s amazing, Em!”
“I haven’t even told them yet.”
“They’ll be so stoked!” Her whole life, her parents have lived in a flat in a social housing tower block. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Her dad worked hard to look after the family and what they lacked in material possessions, they made up with love.
Her parents are lovely people—salt of the earth, and proud.
In fact, they only allowed Whit to pay Emmy’s school fees to the stupidly posh school he sent me to because I couldn’t go to the local high school.
It was a safeguarding risk, according to his security people, and as both our families knew we’d be miserable apart, Em’s parents agreed.
Besides, there was no merit in depriving her of the opportunity.
“I won’t tell them until dad is on the mend. I don’t want to give him another heart attack!”
“Silly,” I say, tears stinging my eyes. She’s such a love. “He’ll be on his feet in no time. Just you wait and see.” She is so not losing this job on my watch.
Em blows out a breath as though glad to have shared her secret. “So now you know how much this means to me, Prim. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“Don’t be daft!”
“I know it might not be a very exciting job. Not like yours, getting to heal people and stuff.”
I make a noise, a sort of “eh,” and give a shrug she can’t see. “The glamor of frailties and falls, infection and bedsores. Honestly, I can’t wait to get stuck in.”
“You’ll be an amazing doctor. You care deeply about people, not just your people. And you always do the right thing.”
“Thanks, Em.” I do try.
“You and your family have already done so much for me.” There’s a little wobble in her delivery that brings a lump to my throat.
“Aw, Em. My lot love you too. And I personally appreciate how you put up with them. I mean, I only stick around because we’re related.”
“It’s because of you and your family that I—”
“Oh, by the way, Madeline—who I thought was the mum, not the housekeeper—wasn’t here when I arrived. Apparently, she had a family emergency,” I add, hoping to change the subject. I’m all for gratitude but it feels icky when pointed my way.
“Talk about bad timing. Is everything okay?”
“I think her granddaughter broke her leg.”
“I suppose that explains your rough first day.”
“How’d you mean?”
“Mr. du Beaumont was probably stressed today.”
“I don’t have a baseline of his usual mood, so I couldn’t comment.” I keep my tone even.
“He’s super protective of the children.” She pauses.
“Between you and me, I think something happened with the agency nanny, the one who was supposed to cover for me. It was all very weird. Like, she was there Thursday night, but when I woke up the next morning, she was no longer in the house. And no one was saying why.”
“She probably bailed.” I wouldn’t have blamed her.
“I don’t think so. She seemed happy to be there. But that’s why I had to stay the extra night. The boss was in such a temper.”
Maybe that’s why he looked so stern last night. I pull a face because I’m not supposed to be thinking about any of that. “So what I’m hearing is you sent me into the lion’s den.”
“He can be… exacting.”
I chuckle. “Is that the best you can come up with?”
“Was he so awful?” she asks warily.
“On a scale of mild to murderous, he was Genghis Khan after making his way barefoot across a mile of Legos.”
“I’m so sorry, Prim.” But she’s laughing. “Madeline’s absence must’ve pushed him over the edge.”
I’d like to push him over the edge. Of a cliff.
“It’s all good,” I answer merrily. “I’m sure your salary makes up for the shortfall in his personality.
“And the view isn’t bad.”
“If you like classical features, I suppose.”
“Classical features,” she singsongs back. “That’s like, a compliment and a half coming from you. Have you bumped your head?”
“What? I’m nice—I say nice things all the time!”
“You’re more than nice. You’re one in a million. But I don’t think I’ve ever heard you pay a man a compliment.”
“Not true. I distinctly remember telling you how impressed I was by the Glaswegian houseman who managed to get a cannula in that eighty-year-old with delirium.”
“What did he look like?”
“Wrinkly, but not too bad for someone entering his ninth decade.”
“The houseman!”
“Oh. I dunno. Ginger. I think he had a beard?”
“That’s what I meant earlier—outside of the guys you’ve dated, you barely even look at men, let alone drool over them.”
I feel suddenly uncomfortable. We’ve had this conversation a dozen times or more but today it seems to have a different vibe. Maybe because, last night, I was attracted to someone. And look where it got me. Out in the trash-smelly alley.
“Well, I’m not gonna moon over some bloke who has the personality of a dyspeptic Doberman, am I?”
“Oh my God,” she says, bursting into peals of laughter. “You have to tell Zoe that!”
“The chef?”
“Yeah. You’ll like her. Dyspeptic Doberman,” she adds with another giggle. “She’ll totally get that.”
“So he’s a nightmare with everyone,” I state flatly.
“He’s not so terrible once you get to know him. Once he trusts you, I suppose.”
I make a noise of derision. He must go through staff like tissue paper. “Well, I’m practically through the first day already so, all good here.”
“And the kids, how are they?”
“Well, one of them is lovely and the other one is her brother.” He clearly takes after his father.
“I’m sure with your unique brand of charm, you’ll win him over.”
For a moment, I think she’s talking about the senior du Beaumont and find myself nibbling the edge of my thumbnail. Great, I think flatly, staring at the newly jagged edge.
Good thing I’m excellent at controlling my impulses.
The truth of the matter is, no matter how short my stay, there is very little chance of seeing eye to eye with the senior Monsieur du Beaumont over anything. He’s just lucky he still his balls after threatening to fire Em because I am pretty good with a scalpel.
Not really. General surgery wasn’t for me.
But I expect I could castrate him.
With the right motivation.
What kind of idiot puts two and two together and comes up with… oranges? He knows Emmy—he’s trusted her with his kids. To assume she’d do anything underhanded, anything illegal, is just plain bonkers.
“I’m going to send you a quick text with a couple of things that might help. Bedtime routines and stuff. Is that okay?”
“’Course.” My phone pings almost immediately.
“I know your French is pretty decent, but he’ll prefer you to stick to English with the kids. He usually speaks French with them, though his English is excellent.”
“I noticed.” I try to keep the bite from my tone.
“He’s half English himself, you know.”
“Why doesn’t he speak to them in English, then?” Surely, a French nanny would be easier to come by.
“He does, but not when they’re alone. I get the impression he’s trying to keep a little of their mother alive.”
“Oh.” That’s sad.
“There’s a folder in the top drawer of my dresser. It was given to me on my first day on the job. It might help.”
“The dos and don’ts?” Hard pass to reading that.
“And keep your phone charged, yeah?”
“And my phone isn’t always flat,” I complain.
She makes a noise of disbelief. “Thinking about it, the folder is more about their schedules. It probably won’t be useful given the kids aren’t at school. But, you know, for the kids of a billionaire, they’re pretty normal. I mean, Felix can be a handful, but he’s not spoiled.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Because he totally seemed like a spoiled brat to me.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that money doesn’t solve all problems. And I’d guess there’s some generational trauma along with all that generational wealth.”
“Suffering is part of the human experience,” I retort with a fake brightness.
“Well, that family has suffered. He lost his wife, and those poor kiddies no longer have a mum.”
“Poor children,” I murmur, slightly chastened.
“I think that’s why Mr. du Beaumont is the way he is. He—”
“Em, don’t make any more excuses for him!” I keep my tone light, but I’m not interested in hearing any tragic tales. I don’t want to feel sympathy for him. I can’t be expected to be nice to the man. “And he can be as grumpy as he wants because I am an expert at dealing with the male ego.”
“Since when?”
“I have four brothers,” I retort.
“Yeah, and you totally pander to their egos,” she deadpans.
“And I regularly get talked down by mansplaining patients who think their age trumps my experience. And I’m pretty sure that, when a doctor reaches the lofty heights of consultant, arsehole behavior gets added to their DNA.
Which means I deal daily with people who have much bigger god complexes than your boss. ”
Never while wearing just a bikini, though.