‘Fine! We went shopping and we … er … had coffee.’ I sound totally false and stiff, but Luke doesn’t seem to notice, which just shows how observant he is.
‘So, what did she say about Minnie?’
‘Not a lot. You know. I expect she’ll report back later. When she’s come to her conclusions.’
‘Hmm.’ Luke nods, loosening his tie. He heads to the fridge, then pauses by the table. ‘Your BlackBerry’s flashing.’
‘Oh, is it?’ I say with stagey surprise. ‘Gosh. I must have a message! Could you listen to it? I’m sooo tired.’
‘If you like.’ Luke shoots me an odd look, picks it up and dials voicemail while taking a bottle of beer out of the fridge.
‘It’s her.’ He looks up, suddenly alert. ‘It’s Nanny Sue.’
‘Really?’ I try to sound astounded. ‘Well … put her on speaker phone!’
As the familiar West Country vowels fill the kitchen we both listen, motionless.
‘… full report to come. But I just had to say, Minnie is an enchanting child. It was a pleasure to spend time with her and your wife. Becky’s parenting skills are second to none and I can diagnose no problems in your family whatsoever. Well done! Goodbye now.’
‘Wow!’ I exclaim as the phone goes dead. ‘Isn’t that amazing! Now we can put this whole episode behind us and get on with our lives.’
Luke hasn’t yet moved a muscle. Now he just turns and gives me a long, hard look.
‘Becky.’
‘Yes?’ I flash him a nervous smile.
‘Was that by any chance Janice, putting on a West Country accent?’
What? How can he even say that?
I mean, OK, it was Janice, but she disguised her voice perfectly. I was really impressed.
‘No!’ I bluster. ‘It was Nanny Sue, and I’m really offended you should have to ask.’
‘Great. Well, I’ll give her a ring to chat about it.’ He pulls out his own BlackBerry
‘No, don’t!’ I yelp.
Why is he so mistrustful? It’s a massive character flaw. I’ll tell him so, one of these days.
‘You’ll disturb her,’ I improvise. ‘It’s really antisocial to ring so late.’
‘That’s your sole concern, is it?’ He raises his eyebrows. ‘Being antisocial?’
‘Yes,’ I say defiantly. ‘Of course.’
‘Well, then I’ll email her.’
Oh God. This isn’t going the way I planned. I thought I’d buy myself some time, at least.
‘OK, OK! It was Janice,’ I say desperately as he starts tapping. ‘But I didn’t have any choice! Luke, it was terrible. It was a disaster. Minnie got banned from a shop and she stole a mannequin and Nanny Sue didn’t say anything, just gave us that look, and I know what she’s going to recommend, but I can’t send Minnie away to some boot camp in Utah, I just can’t do it. And if you make me then I’ll have to take out an injunction and we’ll go to court and it’ll be like Kramer vs. Kramer and she’ll be scarred for life and it’ll be all your fault!’
Out of nowhere, tears have begun pouring down my cheeks.
‘What?’ Luke stares at me incredulously. ‘Utah?’
‘Or Arizona. Or wherever it is. I can’t do it, Luke.’ I scrub at my eyes, feeling exactly like Meryl Streep. ‘Don’t ask it of me.’
‘I’m not asking it of you! Jesus!’ He seems absolutely stunned. ‘Who mentioned Utah, for fuck’s sake?’
‘I … er …’ I’m not quite sure now. I know someone did.
‘I hired this woman because I thought she could give us some childcare advice. If she’s useful we’ll use her. If not, we won’t.’
Luke sounds so matter-of-fact, I blink at him in surprise.
He’s never seen the TV programme, I suddenly remember. He doesn’t know about how Nanny Sue comes into your life and changes everything and you end up sobbing on her shoulder.
‘I believe in listening to professionals,’ Luke is saying calmly. ‘Now she’s seen Minnie, we should hear her recommendations. But that’s as far as it goes. Agreed?’
How can he take a situation that seems like a great big tangled spider’s web and reduce it to a single thread? How does he do that?
‘I can’t send Minnie away.’ My voice is still shaky. ‘You’ll have to prise us apart.’
‘Becky, there’ll be no prising,’ says Luke patiently. ‘We’ll ask Nanny Sue what we can do that doesn’t involve sending her away. OK? Drama over?’
I feel a bit wrong-footed. To be honest, I was all ready for a bit more drama.
‘OK,’ I say at last.
Luke opens his beer and grins at me. Then he frowns, puzzled. ‘What’s this?’ He unpeels a place card from the bottom of the bottle. ‘ “Happy Birthday Mike”. Who’s Mike?’
Shit. How did that get there?
‘No idea!’ I grab it from him and hastily crumple it. ‘Weird. Must have got picked up at the shop. Shall we … er … watch TV?’
The advantage of having the house to ourselves is we don’t have to watch snooker all the time any more. Or real-life crime. Or documentaries about the Cold War. We’re snuggled up on the sofa with the gas fire flickering away, and Luke is flipping through the channels, when suddenly he pauses and turns to me.
‘Becky … you don’t really think I would ever send Minnie away, do you? I mean, is that the kind of father you think I am?’