‘Your oven is great,’ I roll my eyes at Spencer, ‘but since you’ll be taking it with you…’ I hold out the telephone as Mrs Macintosh continues to complain that we didn’t zoom in on any of her appliances. Spencer touches my shoulder in solidarity before leaving the room.
Twenty minutes later, engrossed in a telephone call with our printer, discussing floor plans and photographs, I hear footsteps in the corridor before our front door slams. I look through the shutters and see Spencer heading down the street. ‘January,’ Ward calls from upstairs, ‘my office, now!’
Lucie glances at me, almost as if she wishes he’d called her into his room instead. Spud follows me protectively, but I give him a pat before closing the door behind me. I can’t afford to have any repeat performances.
I take a deep breath before entering the room. ‘Spencer paid me a visit,’ Ward says in that maddeningly calm way of his, when I sense he’s feeling anything but.
I take a seat opposite him. ‘Oh, right.’
‘He can’t invite himself over whenever he feels like it. In future he makes an appointment.’
‘I’m sorry, but—’
‘Maybe that was fine when Jeremy was here, but not under my roof. Is that clear?’
I nod.
‘Fine. You can go.’ I can’t get out of here quickly enough. ‘Actually, January,’ he says, when I reach the door. My heart sinks. ‘Our Thursday meeting needs to start at eight.’
I swing round. ‘But…’
‘No buts.’ His stare is cold.
How will I leave the house by 7.15? How will I get Isla to school? Before I can open my mouth, ‘End of discussion,’ he says.
As I leave I realise Spencer was right. He isn’t a bit of a shit, he’s a royal one, and in my roundabout way I’m so glad I told him.
‘How’s my little girl?’ I say, dropping my supermarket bags on to the kitchen table, covered with pens and crayons and a bowl of tired-looking bananas and grapes. I head straight for the bottle of wine in the fridge.
‘I’m not little. I’m eleven,’ she states, more interested in greeting Spud, ‘and I’m going to a proper school soon.’
Ruki is frying mince and onions. She’s dressed in a scarlet skirt and cream mohair jumper, her dark brown hair coiled into a bun and tied with a navy bow. As she tells me about their afternoon I am reminded of how lucky Isla and I are to have had her in our lives for the past three and a half years. I met many more qualified childminders, but the moment I set eyes on Ruki I felt sure she was the right fit. During the interview, I discovered she’d just turned twenty-seven. She came from Medias, a small town in Romania, and had been a qualified civil engineer. ‘People always look surprised when I tell them that,’ she said, making me wish I hadn’t looked that way too. ‘I had a job in a multinational company. I worked for four years in the industry. I had the fast car and the money, but I felt like a stranger in that environment. I saved money, sold my car and studied in a hair academy for a year. My friends thought I was mad, but…’ She shrugged. ‘Here I don’t feel out of place. London makes me happy.’
‘We went for a walk in the park,’ Ruki tells me, ‘andwe’ve done some maths homework, haven’t we?’ Isla is top of the class in art, but needs extra help at school with her maths and science. ‘And we’ve been drawing.’
‘Look, Mum,’ says Isla, ‘this is where Ruki lived.’ It’s a picture of a farm with cows, chickens and ducks, and Isla has drawn mountains in the background with a bright yellow sun.
‘I didn’t know you grew up on a farm.’
‘My grandparents did. I used to spend the summer holidays there. Granny taught me to sew and milk the cows. She was special. I was telling Isla she never put us to work, she showed us how to do things instead.’
‘Isla, shall I show you how to scrub the floor and do the washing-up?’
‘Ha ha,’ she says. ‘Not funny, Mum.’
‘Anyway, how was your day?’ Ruki asks, as she does each evening, like my surrogate husband.
‘I’m glad it’s over. Ruki, can you start work early on a Thursday?’
‘How early?’
‘Be here by seven and get Isla to school?’
‘Why did the Mexican man push his wife off the cliff ?’ Isla asks.
‘Hang on a sec, Isla. Could you?’ I look at Ruki beseechingly.
‘Tequila!’ Isla falls about laughing.
