Alexandra considered, her eyes still closed. ‘I think you could read it to yourself for just a bit. It’s very early.’
‘I can’t read,’ said Stéphie.
This made Alexandra wake up. ‘Can’t you? Not at all? How old are you?’
‘Nine. And I can read a little bit.’
Had Stéphie said she couldn’t read to get her attention, or could she really not read? ‘Why don’t you read to me? I like being read to,’ Alexandra said.
Stéphie stumbled along but was obviously struggling. Alexandra frowned. ‘Do you go to school?’
Stéphie shook her head. ‘It’s too far away. Our last nanny couldn’t drive.’
‘I can drive,’ said Alexandra. It had been one of the conditions of her employment. ‘Was your last nanny with you for long?’
‘Years and years. She used to do sums with me.’
‘What about Félicité and Henri?’
Stéphie was wriggling about and seemed not to be interested. ‘We did have a governess for a while and, after she left, they went to our neighbours, who had a tutor. But then they moved away.’
‘How did they get to the neighbours?’ Surely if the older children could be transported to a neighbour, they could go to school.
‘Bruno used to take them across the fields.’
‘How long ago?’ asked Alexandra. How long was it since these children had received a proper education?
‘I don’t know,’ said Stéphie, who obviously didn’t care.
Alexandra decided that because she was only there for a month, she couldn’t enrol the children in school in a foreign language and undertake to get them there unless they were very keen to go. However, she could help Stéphie with her reading. At nine she should be reading better than she was, surely. Alexandra had been a very early reader herself; it had been part of her defence system.
‘Would you like me to help you with your reading, Stéphie?’ Alexandra asked, struggling to a sitting position.
‘We haven’t got the proper books,’ said Stéphie.
‘Books that have words in them are the proper books,’ said Alexandra. ‘Let’s have a look.’
They were doing quite well and Stéphie was gaining confidence when Alexandra’s door was opened and a furious Félicité stood there. ‘You’re not supposed to teach Stéphie! That’s not a nanny’s job!’
Alexandra looked up and said calmly, ‘Well, thank you, Félicité. If you’d care to write out a list of my responsibilities and another of things I’m not supposed to do, I’d be very grateful. I’ve never been a nanny before.’
‘I like reading with Alexandra,’ said Stéphie. ‘She makes it fun.’
Félicité tossed her head. ‘OK, well, if you like it, you can. Now it’s time to let the hens out.’
‘Ooh,’ said Stéphie, abandoning Milly-Molly-Mandy and getting out of bed. ‘I like doing that. I like collecting the eggs too, unless any of the hens have gone broody.’
‘Off you go then,’ said Alexandra. ‘Let’s hope there are eggs. Then we can have them for breakfast.’
‘I only like them boiled with soldiers,’ said Stéphie. ‘And soldiers are difficult with French bread.’
‘Get the eggs; I’ll sort out the soldiers.’ Alexandra frowned. ‘Have we got any bread?’
Félicité, who obviously didn’t share Stéphie’s enthusiasm for collecting eggs, nodded. ‘I expect someone who works on the farm will leave some. There’s a little village nearby that has a boulangerie.’ She smiled coldly. ‘They know we haven’t got a housekeeper now, and only a new nanny.’
‘That’s good,’ said Alexandra, ignoring Félicité’s snooty attitude to her current profession. ‘When’s the market in the local town, do you know? I need to get some clothes. All mine are probably in Switzerland by now.’
‘Why are they in Switzerland?’ asked Félicité, her imagination caught.
