The Nanny

"Is it true?" Allan asked, sounding bored and tired.

"Yes," I whispered, unable to look at either of them.

No one said anything for a minute, and I didn't elaborate. I didn't need to give my reasoning -- telling them that I couldn't stop myself wouldn't help my case.

"Was it a one-time thing?" Allan then asked, but I was sure it was directed at Daniel. I wasn't sure that anything would help in this situation, but a 'yes' would definitely be the best course of action.

Daniel hesitated. "No," he finally stated.

I groaned and threw my head back. It was no sweat off of his back to tell the truth, but Jesus. It was my fucking job on the line.

"Well then," Isabella began, and I could tell that the flood gates were about to open.

"Izzy," Allan began in a warning tone, but he had no chance.

"It's a matter of respect, Allan," Isabella snapped. She wouldn't even look at me. "She's sneaking around with our family! It's disgusting -- there's no excuse."

"I really like her," Daniel stated, looking directly at Allan. "I do. And it was me who approached her."

I felt my chest expand a little bit. Despite the mess I really liked him as well.

"Ah, Dan," Allan groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It doesn't matter," Isabella told Allan. "If they liked each other that much, they could have waited until January."

"You're right," I nodded. We could have. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Isabella told me. She looked frighteningly like Hannah when she sneered. "I won't have you working with my children. Pack your things."

I nodded, standing. I hadn't expected anything better.

"Izzy," Allan pleaded, at the same time Daniel said "no, wait!" But I didn't stop. I left the room and went upstairs.

The truth of the matter was that nothing that either of us said would change Isabella's mind. Even if we had lied and told her that we were madly in love, she wouldn't have kept me on as staff. And I wouldn't have been able to stay without the employment. I couldn't afford a hotel and I definitely wouldn't be welcome for Christmas dinner.

I got to the top landing, where Hannah was waiting for me, blocking my way to the stairs that led to my room.

"Fuck off," I sneered at her, wiping the tears from my face roughly. It wasn't like she could get me fired twice.

Hannah stood with her arms folded. "Going to pack?"

"Get out of my way." It wasn't a warning or a request, but I wasn't willing to ask. She moved without a fuss, to my surprise.

"Did he tell you about Annie?" She asked as soon as I moved past her. I stopped and turned to look at her, making her smirk. She was dangling bait in front of me and I knew it.

"Who's Annie?" I asked, playing into her hands perfectly.

"I'm so glad you asked. Annie was my . . . tutor. Daniel was sleeping with her after our sessions, but they got caught and she was fired. He has a type and you're not the first." My face went bright red. Hannah continued anyway. "Dad was furious, of course, but not at Daniel. He can do no wrong -- after all, he's family." She moved towards me, digging the knife in deeper. "He knew he'd get away with it. The risk was entirely hers and he didn't care." I thought back to Daniel holding my hand in front of everyone last night. It was like he was trying to give clues and make the whole thing riskier.

"Why bother telling me this?"

Hannah smiled wider. She looked sinister. "Because I want you to understand that no matter what you thought you had with him -- you don't. He wouldn't have bothered with you under any other circumstances. He likes the thrill. You provided it." Hannah stepped forward just a little more -- just enough to get me to step back. "You've met twice. A guy like him doesn't fall for a girl like you. Not in that space of time."

I wanted to correct her -- to tell her it had been three times, but it wasn't like that'd help. She was right after all.

I turned and went up to my room to pack. I wanted so desperately to make some horrible remark that would make her as embarrassed as I was but there was nothing to be said. I didn't know her well enough to hurt her. In comparison, I was clearly too obvious.

I had packed half of my suitcase before Daniel finally entered, as I was sure he would. I loathed the fact that my door didn't lock.

"I'm so sorry," he closed the door behind him and took my arms in his. "I did what I could, but Isabella wouldn't change her mind."

"Sorry doesn't cut it." I realised how angry I was. How unfair this entire situation was. "Why didn't you stand up to Hannah last night when she first saw us?"

"I didn't think she'd actually do anything," he let go of my arms and ran his fingers through his hair.

"So, you weren't just baiting her?" I asked, my arms folding. I felt my lip curling at him, but I couldn't stop myself. I hadn't been this furious in a long time and I was just irrational enough to want to put the full blame on him rather than take any responsibility for my actions. "You didn't get a little thrill out of her seeing us? Or holding hands with me in front of everyone last night?"

"What are you accusing me of?" Daniel laughed a little, but I could see he was cautious. I was like a rabid dog -- I was just growling just now but who knew when I'd bite.

"You wanted to act out a fantasy, I get it," I told him with as little emotion as I could. I didn't need him to see that I was actually incredibly hurt. "You wanted to sneak around and get a little thrill out of the chance of being caught. I mean, I'm not even surprised! A guy like you, who gets whatever he wants whenever he wants -- it must have been some novelty to know something was off limits. Like a kid being told no, it just made you want it more. Well, congratulations."

"What?" Daniel's eyes bulged a little. "You think I'd actually do that to you? Your fucking job was on the line, Urs --"

"Yeah, my job," I shouted a little. "And don't call me Urs!" He held his hands up in a placating gesture. "I've lost my job -- I am now effectively homeless."

His eyes looked tortured. "Ursula, I'm so sorry, please. I'll pay for a hotel for you for as long as you need -- here or in Cambridge, I don't mind. I won't bother you or anything-"

"What?" I asked incredulously. "I've lost my job and now you don't want to see me again?"

"Oh," he looked taken aback. "I just didn't think you'd want to see me again."

"Is this what you did to Annie?"

"Excuse me?" You'd think I'd slapped him. Daniel recoiled a fraction of an inch, but I saw it.

"Hannah told me all about Annie -- how you used her and then got her fired. It's the same thing that you've done to me."

Daniel gaped at me, looking like he couldn't believe what I was saying. "It is absolutely not the same thing. You have no idea what you're talking about, and I don't want to discuss it," he warned me. His eyes were so dark -- almost menacing.

"Of course, you don't -- it makes you look bad, why the fuck would you want to talk about it?"

Daniel shook his head and smiled at me, but it wasn't in a good way.

"You're a spoiled little rich boy," I told him, trying to twist the knife, exactly as Hannah had done with me. I wasn't comfortable with the comparison. "You saw me on Tinder, took a chance and it paid off. Congratulations."

"Are you done?" His jaw was flexing. I'd never seen him angry. Then again, I'd only seen him on three occasions.

"No, I'm not. Fuck you for making me think you liked me. You took complete advantage of the fact that I was young and naïve. Get out of my room." I was close to crying and I could feel it. I didn't want him to see me cry.

Daniel looked at me for another moment. He didn't look angry anymore -- he looked like he was about to cry as well.

I was expecting him to say something. Defend himself, apologise, tell me that he cared about me. But he just stared at me for a second before he turned and left my room, closing the door behind him.

And he was gone. I was alone in my bedroom with a half-packed suitcase. I went back to packing, trying to ignore the tears streaming down my face.

************

Thursday, January 24^th 2019

The end of January was always the quietest time in the café. No one had any money after Christmas and pay day hadn't come in yet. The windows were all steamed up and one lonely man sat at a table by himself, reading his newspaper. His name was Bill. I knew him pretty well.

I had been lucky that the café had taken me back on after my sudden departure before Christmas. I was definitely in the bad books, but at least I still had a job, even if I was being made to do double shifts at least four times a week.

I had called my mum as soon as I was on a train back from Edinburgh. I ended up crying about it to her almost the entire way down. She kept talking about heartbreak and how difficult it was but then she started to get angry about the class divide and called Isabella and Daniel 'Tory bastards', so I ended the conversation. No need to tell her that Daniel was American.

I didn't think my heart was broken, but it was pretty touch-and-go. I had called Olivia next and told her a version of the story. She offered me the couch in her flat to crash on while I waited for my room to become available again, which I gratefully accepted.

"I can't believe that you shagged their brother," she giggled on Christmas Eve over a bottle of wine. I didn't really like wine, but I didn't have much of a say in the matter. "Who was he again?"

"Daniel Redhurst," I told her. I don't think I told her his name before.

I was stalking Matt on Facebook. He and the fake blonde girl had made it official. I tried to feel happy for them -- Matt was a good guy. He deserved happiness.

"Where did he work?" Olivia asked.

"He's the part owner of a software development company based in London. I don't think he really does work, he just financed it to begin with." I was scrolling through the blonde girl's pictures now. She actually wasn't that fake; she was very pretty.

"Is this him?" Olivia asked me, pushing her phone in my face.

It was Daniel in a suit, beaming at the camera, shaking hands with a shorter, but just as handsome man. He looked a little familiar.

"Yeah, that's him," my heart dipped a little. I missed him, I realised, trying not to let disappointment overwhelm me. He had such kind eyes. I remembered them looking at me the last time I saw him. Disappointed, repulsed, hurt. I tried not to regret it -- he deserved it after all, but damn. I still liked him.

Olivia swung her legs of the bed and stood up. "We could have been related!" She began laughing uncontrollably, looking at the phone again every two seconds.

"What do you mean?" She must have been drunk.

"That's Christopher, my older cousin," she pointed at the man in the photo -- the one I had thought was familiar. "You met him at Christmas two years ago."

"How would that make us related?" I frowned at her.

"Oh," she stopped laughing. "It wouldn't, never mind," she giggled. "It would just have been a funny coincidence is all."

I smiled at her, wondering how she had graduated with a first. "He's stunning," she congratulated me, nudging me with her shoulder. "Did you like him?"

"Yeah," I answered honestly. "I really did."

"How did you fuck that up, Urs?" Olivia asked me, shaking her head. "He's gorgeous."

"Please don't rub it in," I began crying then and Olivia hugged me.

Most of the time I'd spent by myself had involved crying. Sometimes alcohol and crying, but alcohol was an expensive accessory to my misery.

I made an exception on Christmas day, though. Olivia had invited me to her parents, but I didn't feel like chancing running into Chris and crying in front of the whole family. Instead, I stayed in Olivia's flat by myself and got shitfaced, watching crappy romance movies and listening to songs about heartbreak. I wanted to wallow in my misery. It only felt right.

************

"Lunch?" Eddie stuck his head through the pass. I looked at the clock, realising that it was after two and we only have two more hours left.

"Nah, no point," I told him, smiling. I'd grab something for dinner from the fridge as compensation for my lost half hour.

We still only had one table, though now it was a couple of elderly women, sharing a pot of tea for one. They would be there until close, ordering more free hot water to make their tea last, so I wasn't worried about them.

The door opened as I began cleaning out the milk jugs, and I turned to see Allan standing at the door, holding a closed umbrella.

My heart jolted a little. He didn't look like Daniel, not at all -- they weren't even technically related. But I associated him with Daniel and that was enough. The raggedy little hole in my chest opened up again and I missed him. I usually got home before this feeling began.

For a moment I wondered what the chances were of Allan showing up here. But then I realised - there were hundreds of cafés in Cambridge -- much nicer than this one, and much closer to the town centre. This wasn't a coincidence.

"You got a second?" He asked, coming up to the counter.

"Hello to you, too," I smiled.

Allan shook his head a little, smiling back. "Sorry, it's been a long day."

"It's fine." My stomach was doing little flips. I gestured to one of the barstools at the counter. That way I could look like I was doing my job and I could still talk to Allan. "Do you want anything?"

"An americano, please. Black." He set a briefcase on the counter and a million thoughts ran through my head.

I wondered for a second if Isabella wanted to sue me for breaching my contract. It was the only thing I could think of other than getting me to sign a non-disclosure agreement so that I didn't tarnish their reputation or something.

By the time that I'd poured the shots onto the hot water and handed Allan his cup with a bowl of sugar cubes, he still didn't have any paperwork in front of him. I took that as a good sign.

"What can I do for you Mr Redhurst?"

"You can still call me Allan," he told me bashfully, playing with a sugar cube. "I didn't want you to leave, you know."

I knew that. It was all big, bad Isabella's fault. But you didn't do much to help me stay.

"I know," I just tell him, smiling sadly. No point in blaming him -- I'd blamed Daniel enough to get it out of my system.

He stirred his coffee for a moment, waiting for the sugar cube to dissolve.

"I needed to ask you something and it seemed indelicate doing it over the phone," he finally told me. He had a pained expression on his face.

"Go ahead," I crossed my arms. I could have just told him to fuck off, but he had been nice to me. And it was no skin off my teeth telling him the truth.

Unless he asks whether or not we did it on the kitchen table, I conceded. Then I'm going to lie.

"What did you say to Daniel before you left?"

I was about to defend myself when Allan held up his hand. "I don't need to know everything. But something got under his skin, I can tell. I'm his big brother, I just want to help him." I realised then how tired Allan looked.

"Have things been bad?" I asked, worried. I wasn't sure how much damage I could really have done, but I was sure it was more than I had been aware of.

Allan nodded. "Daniel and Hannah were at each other's throats the night you left. They both stormed out and we couldn't get a hold of them. They both missed Christmas." Allan pauses. "Daniel hasn't come back since then."

I began to apologise but stopped myself. It wasn't really my fault after all. I sighed. I might not have been able to apologise, but I could at least give him a little bit of insight. "I said some pretty horrible things," I admit. "I blamed him almost entirely." I think back, trying to remember. "I said he got me sacked, that I was the only one risking anything. That he used me for the thrill and got us caught on purpose. And then I threw Annie in his face."

At that, Allan's head jerks up. "Sorry?"

"Annie? Hannah's tutor that he slept with and got sacked?"

Allan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "What did Hannah tell you?"

Clearly it was a sore subject for the whole family. "She told me how Daniel slept with Annie and got her sacked. That was about it really. She told me that they were sneaking around, and he loved the thrill and that he was just using me like he used her." The words still stung. I had been horribly naïve.

Allan's eyes tightened before they filled with sympathy. I wasn't sure it was for me.

"What?" I asked.

"Annie wasn't Hannah's tutor -- she was the family therapist." Allan shook his head. "I shouldn't even be telling you this, but I suppose it's better than the version you have -- for Daniel's sake." He sat silently for a moment, deliberating, before he seemed to make up his mind. "Daniel was sixteen and she took advantage of him. She was fired and it was reported to the police. It was a really horrible situation, to be honest. Dad didn't want it to affect the family's reputation, but mostly he didn't want Daniel to have to go through the whole court process. So, he dropped the charges."

My mouth fell open in shock. I hadn't been expecting that. "How could he do that?"

"Another family came forward. Apparently, she'd done it to others as well. She was charged with statutory rape and five years in prison. Her licence was taken off of her. It would have been worse if Daniel had testified as well, but he didn't want to talk about it and dad didn't want him to, either."

We sat for a moment in silence. I had accused Daniel of . . . I didn't even want to think about it. It was so fucked up.

"Why would Hannah say that? What the hell?"

Allan shrugged a little. "I don't know. She had really liked Annie, and for obvious reasons she wasn't told what was going on -- she was only nine. Maybe that's what she thought had happened?"

I didn't buy it. Surely, she would have realised by now that Daniel was too young.

"Is Daniel alright?" I asked, genuinely concerned for him now. He didn't deserve the vast majority of things I said to him. I felt like the world's biggest asshole.

"He hasn't been back to Edinburgh in weeks -- it's the longest he's stayed away for a long while." I nodded, hoping he would elaborate. "What you said really hurt him -- I know it wasn't your fault," he added before I could protest. "But now that I know . . . I just feel like it would help if the two of you met and spoke about it. You had one hell of an effect on him," Allan smiled down at his coffee, shaking his head.

"We hardly know each other," I blushed, busying my hands with a cloth on the countertop. The truth was that he'd had an effect on me, too. I wasn't sure if it was genuine or if it was just the situation we were in, and that worried me. What if I only felt like this because it was such a different experience from anything I'd ever had before?

"You know that I dated Isabella for a month and a half when I proposed?" Allan looked up at me from under his lashes. "Granted, we were in a very different situation from you two, but for me? I guess I believe that when you know -- you know."

"I'm not in love with him," I stated. I wasn't. I knew I wasn't. You couldn't love someone after having met them only a few times . . . could you?

Allan grinned. "Sure thing, kiddo." He drank the last of his coffee and put a £50 note beside his saucer. "I guess you won't mind then if I tell you that he's in Norwich just now. At the George Hotel. And the tip that'll be left over there will cover train fare there and back."

I could feel myself tearing inside. I wanted to -- really wanted to. "I can't lose a second job," I told him simply. "My boss will sack me for sure if I leave before half five."