Friend of the Family

‘Classical music.’

‘Count me out,’ said David.

‘Philistine,’ laughed Juliet.

‘At least he’s honest,’ said Claire. ‘Max insists on going to anything that’s on at Cadogan Hall, then puts his sunglasses on and falls asleep.’

Amy enjoyed the gentle banter that rippled between them. Their tight group was not the family she’d imagined twenty years earlier. All of them were from a different world to her; even Claire, who pretended to hail from more down-to-earth stock, was actually the daughter of Yorkshire landowners and had a trust fund. But after Amy’s parents had both passed away in the past three years, that was what they had become. Family.

They took a left and turned off the busy main drag into an elegant side street. The sight of Amy’s home was something that still caught her by surprise. It was not one of the biggest terraces in Notting Hill, but the slim white Georgian house was one of the prettiest, with a huge pink magnolia bush in the tiny square of front garden and black-and-white chessboard steps that reminded her of Alice Through the Looking-Glass.

She stopped at the gate as she noticed someone sitting at the top of the steps. She had once found a homeless man in her porch when she had arrived home late at night, and for a second her heart started to pound hard.

But when she took another glance, she noticed it was a young woman, long bare legs stretched out in front of her. Amy was taken aback. Despite her simple clothes – shorts, T-shirt and trainers – there was no escaping how pretty she was. Long honey-coloured hair fell down her back, and her striking eyebrows reminded Amy of a popular supermodel.

‘Damn, she’s early,’ she said. ‘I wanted to tidy up first.’

‘That’s the work experience girl?’ said Max over the top of his sunglasses.

‘I’m Josie,’ she said, standing up and trotting down the steps. Amy was surprised by her easy confidence.

‘Well, hello,’ said Max, stepping forward to introduce himself.

‘Never let women in your house with longer legs than you,’ said Juliet under her breath.

‘It’s only for a week,’ said Amy, pasting on her best smile and going over to say hello.

Chapter 3

‘Coffee, I need coffee.’ Amy rushed through the kitchen still buttoning her blouse, tote bag swinging from the crook of one arm.

Claudia handed her a silver flask. ‘Already done. And there’s a hot water and lemon for now,’ she added, pointing to a mug on the table.

Amy grinned. She knew that busy middle-class parents always said this about their nannies, but she didn’t know what she’d do without Claudia. She arrived at the crack of dawn, taking Tilly to and from school in term-time and looking after her full-time during the holidays, while efficiently fielding all the other time-consuming day-to-day admin niggles such as paying the milkman, letting the gardener in and managing the cleaners who came three times a week to tidy the house and do the laundry and ironing. She was genuinely part of the family, about the only steady, reliable part of their chaotic household. A household that had grown suddenly with the arrival of Josie earlier that week.

Not that the addition of Josie was anything that Amy could complain about. Over the past three days she had been polite, charming and quiet – barely a sound coming from the granny flat in the basement where she had been billeted. More importantly, she had been brilliant with Tilly, who adored her; something to do with Josie being closer to Tilly’s age, Amy supposed. Or perhaps it was the way she was happy to get down on her hands and knees and join in Tilly’s flights of fancy

, which was exactly what a creative child like Tilly needed. Amy had to admit that neither she nor David had the time, and Claudia was far too blunt and authoritarian to indulge a five-year-old.

‘Morning, Tilly,’ said Amy, dipping to kiss her daughter on the head. ‘Can Mummy have a piece of your toast?’

Tilly spread her fingers over her plate, frowning. ‘Why?’

‘Because Mummy is running really late for work but I am very, very hungry.’

David came up behind her and handed her his bowl of granola. ‘You like this stuff more than me,’ he said, pulling on his jacket.

Amy kissed him on the cheek. ‘Shouldn’t you have left?’

‘Waiting for a call from Hong Kong. Thought it was better to take it in my study than on the mobile.’

‘Where are my bloody car keys?’ she said, only half listening to him. She’d planned on driving to today’s shoot, had now left it too late to get the train, but although she had tried every coat pocket, every bag, she couldn’t find them anywhere.

‘Mummy’s lost her keys again,’ squealed Tilly between big slurps of smoothie.

‘Why don’t we help Mummy look,’ said Josie, giving Tilly’s tummy a tickle.

The little girl giggled hard, and Amy felt herself melt as she watched Josie take Tilly on a treasure hunt around every pot and drawer in the kitchen.