And God Created the Au Pair. Pascale Smets
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Shame it didn’t blow him up.
From: Charlotte Bailey
To: Nell Fenton
Discovered today that a thermostat on a blow heater is in fact a GOOD THING as ancient one Fran lent me & I solicitously placed in Lou & Walt’s bedroom to try & warm it a little caught fire this evening. Was downstairs with Ana Frid making the children’s supper when I heard Lou shrieking from upstairs, ran up to find her ineffectually batting at the licking flames with a hand towel, grabbed hand towel off her so I could bat at it ineffectually myself. Fortunately Ana Frid took charge, sprinted back downstairs to get a saucepan lid, charged back in, unplugged heater at wall (which neither I nor Lou had thought to do) & placed saucepan lid over the flames which killed them. Then had to open all their bedroom windows to try & disperse the aroma of burnt electrical appliance – didn’t work, really nasty acrid smell persisted to remind us all of my attempt to kill guests.
From: Nell Fenton
To: Charlotte Bailey
Reassuring to hear what a cool head you keep in a crisis. Suggest next time something bursts into flame you toss Ana Frid’s passport into the fire so she has to stay with you forever.
Mind you, am not beyond reproach myself. In a crazed moment of guilt at uprooting the children, have bought them a kitten. Quite sweet if you like animals which my tenderest admirer could not accuse me of. Not an unqualified success since Rob was so scared of it he spent 2 days on the kitchen table, though it’s no bigger than his foot. Anyhow on day 3 he suddenly announced he was going to try holding it after school. ‘Holding it’ turned out to be sitting on the sofa with a large cushion on his lap and having the kitten placed on the cushion for about 8 seconds by me. Still, I could see the effort it cost him and was v proud of him. This morning I came down in a nightdress with bare legs and the adorable creature scampered up my leg using my bare flesh as purchase for its little needlelike claws. Couldn’t shriek and bat it away as I wanted to as I keep assuring Rob it can’t hurt him, so gently removed it from my throbbing leg and hobbled upstairs to find some trousers to hide the trickles of blood. Reminded me of a couple of months ago when Michael was in the garden playing with the boys and his smile suddenly became quite fixed. Muttered to me that he had just been stung by a wasp, didn’t want Rob to know (would never go outside again if he knew there was a chance he could be stung). Think by the time we have finished bringing Rob up we will both be like some sort of SAS commandos, or perhaps impassive martial arts masters, capable of withstanding terrible pain without reacting … Suppose everyone has to have at least one high-maintenance child. At least Josie besotted with the kitten and Ollie mildly diverted.
From: Charlotte Bailey
To: Nell Fenton
ARE YOU COMPLETELY MAD?? You hate animals. You hate them even more than I do & I hate them a lot. Ellie & Maddie constantly nagging for a dog, have explained to them it’s never going to happen so instead they must train Hugh to do doglike things. He always eats like a dog anyway & has now become quite proficient at lapping water from a bowl. Will also spend up to 10 mins at a time ‘sleeping’ in his dog basket (large cardboard box). Had to set parameters when I found him growling, tied to the table leg with a skipping rope round his neck. Now when they take him for a walk they grumble that you don’t see real dogs with leads round their middles. Don’t like to point out that real dogs tend not to wear jeans & a sweatshirt & break off halfway through ‘walkies’ to watch Thomas the Tank Engine with juice & a biscuit.
From: Nell Fenton
To: Charlotte Bailey
Wish I’d thought of training one of my children as a dog before getting tiresome cat. Am inexplicably fond of all of them so would be happy to have any one of them as a pet.
From: Charlotte Bailey
To: Nell Fenton
Lou & Walt have made the acquaintance of weirdy neighbour Brian Turner. Saw them talking to him outside the front of the house. The 3 of them made an interesting sight – Lou wearing v high black Prada boots looked about 6' 2", Walt next to her looked small & menacing in inky-black Gaultier suit with his ‘eye scarf’ – until you clocked his feet, Birkenstocks with thick pink socks, & then there was Brian, just medium normal-sized but with his outlandishly big woolly head & orange polo neck. Think Brian stopped to talk to them because of Walt’s Birkenstocks (that & fact he’s unbelievably nosy). What he doesn’t realise is Walt is wearing them in an ironic way. Lou said Brian is v knowledgeable about historic walks through London & should I ever need any info on said topic he’s my man. (Useful as this tip is cannot envisage seeking Brian’s advice under any circumstances.)
From: Nell Fenton
To: Charlotte Bailey
Not clear – is it the wearing of Birkenstocks with a suit or wearing the Birkenstocks with thick pink socks that’s ironic? Also how can you be sure that big woolly head and orange jumper aren’t also intended to be ironic? Seems unlikely that anyone would have either of those things simply because they thought they were attractive. Mind you, saw Suzette this morning in an emerald-green angora sweater with one of those hideous cowl necks, which I suppose proves there’s no accounting for taste.
From: Charlotte Bailey
To: Nell Fenton
I am now officially the perfect hostess. To make up for the blow-heater episode, asked Ana Frid, who irons beautifully, to do Lou’s laundry for her. Anyway I really don’t know how he did it, but somebody slipped my very beautiful new brown leather gloves & 3 stickle bricks into a white wash. Whole wash including a large quantity of Lou’s white Hanro vests & knickers & a beautiful Yohji Yamamoto shirt have come out streaked with brown. Gloves obviously completely ruined (like tiny hard leather claws now) but stickle bricks absolutely fine, indeed better than fine, vv clean. Am so embarrassed, I know vests & the shirt particularly would have been really expensive. Even Lou, despite her impeccable manners, could not suppress small involuntary scream when I admitted about the shirt. Have had to spend a lot of time calming down poor Ana Frid who had the misfortune to be the person who put the wash on but as I don’t believe she added the gloves & stickle bricks I really don’t think she is to blame. We must do about 63 washes a day so why does Hugh pick the one sodding wash with Lou’s stuff in it to sabotage?
From: Nell Fenton
To: Charlotte Bailey
I’m surprised with Hugh in the house you haven’t trained Ana Frid to search the machine for foreign objects before putting on a wash. The other day I found a crumpled photo, some pebbles, an elastic band and a paper clip in Rob’s pocket, all of which I naturally threw away. When he found out what I had done he was furious as apparently I had thrown away all the raw materials he needed to make himself a penknife. Who knew?
From: Charlotte Bailey
To: Nell Fenton
Lou & Walt have checked into a hotel for last 2 days of their visit to everybody’s huge relief. It appears that Albert was right & Keith was wrong about the living-room ceiling. Having survived my attempts to kill them by hypothermia and fire I think it was the large clod of plaster that fell from the corner of the living-room ceiling narrowly missing Walt’s head that finally did it. Thump of falling clod (& Lou shrieking ‘GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT’) alerted us all to the fact that part of the ceiling was about