I take in Sadie’s appearance. Far from being the plain little mouse she was when she first came to us, the woman standing before me is a vamp. A sexy seductress. Her face has been artfully made up and her hair is a curtain of black silk. Her curves are astounding – she must be wearing a new bra, although from this angle I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of breast-enhancement surgery. Her dress is gorgeous – a grey sheath that is stunning in its simplicity. In fact, it looks very similar to… I frown. ‘Is that…? Are you wearing one of my…?’
Sadie looks at Robert, her eyes slightly panicked.
‘Huh?’ Robert says. And then, ‘Oh, yeah.’ He turns to me. ‘Gems, I said Sadie could borrow one of your dresses, that’s okay, isn’t it?’ He says it as though it’s no big deal.
But my gut reaction is saying otherwise. Seeing her look so good in a dress that no longer fits me is not my idea of ‘no big deal’. I wonder if he picked it out for her. Or if he took her into our bedroom and opened my wardrobe so she could choose.
Sadie turns to face me. ‘Rob said you didn’t wear this dress any more so you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it. I hope that’s okay, but if not, that’s fine – I can put it back.’
Rob?She called himRob. That’s a bit too familiar. And that dress has particular nostalgic value – Robert bought it as a gift for my thirtieth birthday. It’s my favourite item of clothing. But it’s become a little too tight so I haven’t worn it for a while. I won’t be able to – not until I lose a little weight. I’m furious with my husband for letting Sadie borrow it. For letting her stretch out the bust area with her uplifted boobs. For letting her drench the material in her cloying perfume. But I can’t tell Sadie to take it off. Not without sounding like a real bitch. ‘Of course you can wear it. It really suits you.’
‘Told you she wouldn’t mind,’ Robert adds, making me want to throttle him.
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Sadie says uncertainly. ‘Thank you so much. My clothes are so plain. I really need to go shopping. Are you absolutely sure you don’t mind, Gemma?’
‘Of course not.’ What else can I say? I know she hasn’t really done anything wrong. It’s my husband who was being insensitive. ‘Are you going out somewhere nice?’ I ask, trying to dispel the bitterness lodged in my throat.
‘I’m meeting some of the mums from school for a drink,’ she says. ‘They’re all so lovely, aren’t they? They’ve really taken me under their wing. Rebecca especially.’
‘Rebecca?’ I snap. I take a breath and try to calm my breathing. To speak more evenly. ‘You mean Rebecca Taylor. Lauren’s mum?’
‘Yes, that’s her. We’re all going down to the Holly Tree tonight. Fancy coming along?’
I shake my head, unable to trust myself to speak. Those aremyfriends she’s going out with. Okay, I know I’m not a major part of the clique, but for them to invite Sadie and not me – it’s such a snub. It’s humiliating. ‘I think I’ll just stay in and have a glass of wine with my husband.’ I realise I sound dismissive and condescending, but I can’t help it. ‘You have fun, though, and say hi to the gang from me.’
‘Aw, they’ll miss you, I’m sure. Okay, well, see you later.’ She turns to Robert. ‘Thanks for all the fashion advice! I think you could have a second career as a personal shopper.’
Robert laughs. ‘I’ll bear it in mind. Actually, it was quite good fun.’
Amelia was right at lunch today. Sadie is getting too comfortable around my family. She’s overstepping her bounds. What’s more, she’s looking decidedly more beautiful. Not that it should matter. But it does. When there’s another woman living in your house, you don’t want that woman to be as stunning as Sadie looks tonight. Especially as I’m at work full-time and Robert is often home during the day. I trust Robert implicitly. I do. But should I trust Sadie? The situation is starting to make me feel uncomfortable, like there’s a piece of food trapped between my teeth that I can’t work loose. I’m annoyed with myself for even having these thoughts. But I can’t help the cold jealousy that is beginning to snake down my back and coil itself around my chest.
My husband is clearly enamoured with the woman. My children can’t stop talking about ‘Sadie this’ and ‘Sadie that’. Even my friends are embracing her. Sadie said Rebecca had taken her under her wing. Is this Rebecca’s way of getting back at me, after what happened between Eva and Lauren? Or am I reading too much into their friendship? I wanted a nanny who would fit in with the family and make my life easier, but I can’t help feeling that she is becoming much more than that.
I can’t help thinking that Sadie Lewis is not who I first thought she was.
Thirty-Four
The rain bounces off my umbrella as I walk to school to pick up the kids. But my mind isn’t focused on the weather, I’m running through the events of last night. Events that I would class as a resounding success. The look on Gemma’s face when she saw me was priceless. The poor cow was devastated by how good I looked in her dress. And Robert didn’t have a clue about the huge faux pas he’d made letting me wear it. Of course, I was way too overdressed for a PTA meeting, so before I arrived at the pub, I spent a few minutes in the car wiping off my make-up and changing into skinny jeans and a designer sweatshirt. The dress was purely for Gemma and Robert’s benefit – to make Gemma jealous, and to show off my hidden curves to Robert.
I could tell Gemma wasn’t happy about me meeting her school-mum friends either. I may have exaggerated just how pally we’d become. In fact, Rebecca hardly paid me any attention at the meeting, aside from a cursory hello, and the rest of the women were deadly boring, talking about cake sales, raffle tickets and the Christmas fete like they were discussing the European political landscape. I faked enthusiasm for the whole three mind-numbing hours, finally volunteering to man the bottle stall with someone called Leanne – yippee.
I need to be a little bit careful at this stage, though. I don’t want to give Gemma a reason to fire me. I need her to realise that I’m good for her children. That the benefits of employing me outweigh the negatives. Which is why I’m going to have a little talk to Eva this afternoon. Plant a little seed in her impressionable young brain.
The teachers rush out into the damp playground, huddling under umbrellas and desperately peering through the huddled mass of parents so they can finally palm off the children, get home and make a start on their mountains of planning and marking. Katie comes out first, splashing through puddles and hurling herself against me with the unbridled affection of a wet puppy. Next comes Eva, deep in conversation with her friends, picking her way across the playground towards us.
‘Did you bring the car?’ she asks.
‘No, but I brought you both umbrellas. Zip up your coats and pull up your hoods.’
Eva grumblingly does as she’s asked while Katie dances around in her own little world, singing a song. I feel a small pang of affection for them both, wondering what it would be like if they were my children. How would I raise them if I didn’t have Gemma breathing down my neck?
I hand Katie her plastic ladybird umbrella and pull up her hood. ‘Okay, little miss, come on, let’s go.’ She puts her cold, wet hand in mine and the three of us leave the school.
‘Shall we go to our little café for hot chocolate on the way home?’ I ask.
‘Yes please!’ Katie says.
‘Okay,’ Eva says.
