‘Rebecca,’ she says. ‘Minnie’s still very young. I wouldn’t expect any child of two to be able to tie her own laces.’
‘Oh!’ I instantly brighten. ‘Oh, I see. Well, that’s all right then! We don’t have any other problems with her. Thank you so much, Nanny Sue, please do invoice my husband, I mustn’t keep you any longer, goodbye.’
And I slam the front door before she can reply.
Result! I high-five Minnie and am about to head to the kitchen for a celebratory KitKat when the doorbell rings again.
Hasn’t she gone?
I peep through the spy-hole and there she is, waiting patiently on the doorstep.
What does she want? She’s solved our problems. She can go.
‘Rebecca?’ Her voice comes through the door. ‘Are you there?’
‘Hello!’ calls Minnie.
‘Sssh!’ I hiss. ‘Be quiet!’
‘Rebecca, your husband asked if I could assess your daughter and report my findings to both of you. I can hardly do that on a one-minute acquaintance.’
‘She doesn’t need assessing!’ I call back through the door.
Nanny Sue doesn’t react, just waits with the same patient smile. Doesn’t she want a day off?
I’m feeling a bit thrown, to be honest. I thought she’d just hoof off. What if she tells Luke I wouldn’t let her in? What if we end up having another big row?
Oh God. Maybe it’ll be simpler if I just let her in, let her do her so-called ‘assessing’ and get rid of her.
‘Fine.’ I throw open the door. ‘Come in. But my daughter doesn’t have any problems. And I know exactly what you’re going to do and what you’re going to say. And we already have a Naughty Step.’
‘Goodness.’ Nanny Sue’s eyes spark a little. ‘Well, you’re ahead of the game, aren’t you?’ She steps in and beams at Minnie, then at me. ‘Please don’t be apprehensive or worried. All I’d really like to observe is a normal day for both of you. Just act naturally and do what you would usually do. I want to see who the Brandons really are.’
I knew it! She’s set us our first trap. On telly, either the family haven’t got a plan for the day or their child refuses to turn off the TV and they all start fighting. But I am so ahead of her. I prepared for this moment, just in case – in fact, I’ve even rehearsed it with Minnie.
‘Gosh, I don’t know,’ I say in musing tones. ‘What do you think, Minnie? Some home-baking?’ I click my tongue. ‘But I’ve just remembered, we’re out of organic stone-ground flour. Maybe we could make houses out of cardboard boxes, and you could paint them with non-leaded paint.’
I look meaningfully at Minnie. This is her cue. She’s supposed to say ‘Walk! Nature!’ I coached her, and everything. But instead she’s gazing longingly at the TV in the sitting room.
‘Peppa Pig,’ she begins. ‘Mine Peppa Pig—’
‘We can’t see a real pig, darling!’ I interrupt hastily. ‘But let’s go on a nature walk and discuss the environment!’
I’m quite proud of the nature-walk idea. It counts as good parenting and it’s really easy. You just have to walk along and say, ‘There’s an acorn! There’s a squirrel!’ every so often. And Nanny Sue will have to admit defeat. She’ll have to give us ten out of ten and say she can’t improve on a perfect family, and Luke will be totally sussed.
When I’ve put on Minnie’s boots (tiny pink Uggs, so sweet), I reach in my bag and produce four dark-grey velvet ribbons, sewn in a bow and backed with Velcro. I did them last night, and they look really good.
‘We’d better take the Naughty Ribbons,’ I say ostentatiously.
‘Naughty Ribbons?’ enquires Nanny Sue politely.
‘Yes, I noticed from your TV show that you don’t use the Naughty Step while you’re out and about. So I’ve created a ‘Naughty Ribbon’. They’re very simple, but effective. You just Velcro them on to the child’s coat when they’re naughty.’
‘I see.’ Nanny Sue doesn’t venture an opinion, but that’s obviously because she’s seething with jealousy and wishes she’d thought of it first.
Honestly, I think I might become a child expert. I have far more ideas than Nanny Sue, and I could give fashion advice too.
I usher her out of the house and we start heading down the drive. ‘Look, Minnie, a bird!’ I point at some creature flapping out of a tree. ‘Maybe it’s endangered,’ I add solemnly. ‘We have to protect our wildlife.’
‘A pigeon?’ says Nanny Sue mildly. ‘Is that likely to be endangered?’
‘I’m being green.’ I give her a reproving look. Doesn’t she know anything about the environment?
We walk along for a while and I point out a few squirrels. Now we’re approaching the parade of shops at the end of Mum’s road, and I can’t help glancing right, just to see what they have in the antique shop.
‘Shop!’ says Minnie, tugging on my hand.
‘No, we’re not going shopping, Minnie.’ I give her an indulgent smile. ‘We’re going on a nature walk, remember? Looking at nature.’
‘Shop! Taxi!’ She sticks her hand confidently out into the road and yells even louder, ‘TAXI! TAX-EEEE!’ After a moment, the taxi at the head of the rank rumbles forward towards us.
‘Minnie! We’re not getting a taxi! I don’t know why she’s done that,’ I add quickly to Nanny Sue. ‘It’s not like we take taxis all the time—’