A Perfect Proposal (7 page)

‘Well, anyway, I’m going to New York,’ said Sophie, not wanting a re-run of her mother’s Life in Art, including the time she’d nearly exhibited with someone who’d nearly won the Turner prize.

‘Where will you get the money for the fare from?’ her father demanded. ‘You can’t go to New York for nothing!’

‘I know! I said, I’ve been saving up. Uncle Eric turned out to be a nice little earner.’

‘So Evil-Uncle-Eric did pay you?’ said Michael. ‘How did you get money out of the old skinflint?’

‘You know perfectly well I worked for him: he gave me my wages. And he’s not evil, he’s really quite sweet when you get to know him.’ She thought fondly of the good times they’d had together. He might play the part of a grumpy old man, the old fraud, but at least he didn’t patronise her, as the rest of her family did.

‘He wouldn’t give you the drip off the end of his nose,’ muttered her mother. ‘When I asked him to sponsor an exhibition for me he flatly refused.’ The fact that he wasn’t the only one didn’t lessen his parsimoniousness in her eyes.

‘He gave me the same as he pays Mrs Brown. I still worked out cheaper than going through an agency.’

‘Told you he was mean.’ Her mother helped herself to more vegetables, having tucked up a strand of hair into its comb.

‘So what are you going to do in New York?’ said her brother. ‘It’s a very expensive place for a holiday.’

‘I’ve told you, I’m not going to be on holiday,’ said Sophie patiently, ‘I’ve got a job.’

‘But how will we manage without you here?’ complained her father. ‘I don’t know what the young are coming to. They just go about, pleasing themselves.’

‘Have some more pie, dear,’ said her mother, putting more food on her husband’s plate. ‘I made it.’

As her father tucked in Sophie realised with relief that her family had lost interest in her goings-on and she wouldn’t be forced to divulge her ulterior, most recent reason for going to New York. She wasn’t ready to do so yet.

Having loaded the dishwasher and tidied up the kitchen (her mother was a talented but untidy cook) she went upstairs to find another email from Milly.
Just heard from the lovely family you’ll be working for. They’re really thrilled to be having a real English nanny while their regular one visits her family. But they do want references. Here’s the email address; they can’t wait to hear from you.

Sophie punched the air before writing her introductory email and deciding which of her recent employers would provide a reference at such short notice.

After several good-humoured exchanges the family took her on as their nanny and promised to pay for her fares when she got there. It was all going exactly to plan! Sophie could hardly sleep for excitement. She went through her clothes several times in her head, sorting out the perfect capsule wardrobe. She was determined to travel light and then, if she got the opportunity, buy something in New York. You couldn’t go to New York and not buy clothes. She had just decided she had to buy a new pair of jeans when she finally dropped off.

All through work the next day, while she smiled, served coffee, cleared tables and made industrial quantities of scones, she thought about New York and the fact that she was actually going there! Skyscrapers, yellow cabs, fire hydrants and wonderful shops: she could hardly contain
herself. Every now and then she reminded herself that she was going to be working and that her family lived in the country somewhere, but she was sure she’d be able to tack on a couple of days with Milly, either before her time working or after.

A couple of nights later she arranged to meet Amanda.

‘Oh God, I’m so excited!’ said Sophie as she and Amanda waited by the bar. ‘I can’t believe I’m actually going!

Amanda ordered a bottle of white wine and a bottle of sparkling water. ‘So have you got your ticket and everything?’

Sophie nodded. ‘Yes. I got it all online, including my visa. Thank goodness I had a newish passport. And obviously no convictions for terrorism or anything.’ She paused. ‘What is “moral turpitude”?’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Amanda looked bewildered.

‘It was mentioned on the visa application. I think I said the right thing.’

‘Thank goodness they didn’t finger you for some car bomb or other, or they wouldn’t let you in,’ said Amanda, handing over some money to the barman.

‘Noo! Don’t joke! That’s something you must never do,’ said Sophie anxiously. ‘The immigration people won’t get it and will put you straight into jail!’

Amanda chuckled and collected her change. Then they picked up their bottle and glasses and headed for their favourite table. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just jealous.’

‘It would be so much more fun if you were coming with me,’ said Sophie, when they’d taken their first sip. ‘Although you’d have to get a job too.’

‘And I have a job here.’ Amanda sighed. ‘Have you thought about clothes?’

‘Continually, but basically, I’ll be a nanny, so I’ll take casual things. I gather they’re very outdoorsy so I won’t need any dresses.’

‘Do you need to borrow a case or anything?’

Sophie shook her head. ‘It’s kind of you but I think I’ll just use a rucksack. I may want to travel around a bit and it would be easier.’

Amanda sighed. ‘I can’t believe you and Milly are both going to be in New York and I’m not with you!’

‘It is a bit of a waste of New York, isn’t it? But I’m not going to America for long,’ said Sophie, ‘it’s only a temporary job. I’ll be back before Christmas. And nothing would drag you away from your doctors anyway.’

Amanda had done work experience in a doctors’ surgery and almost had to be surgically removed when her fortnight was up, she loved it so much. Fortunately they loved her too and offered her a full-time job as soon as she’d finished university. ‘Well, yes.’

‘And you’ve got a lovely boyfriend.’

‘I know! I’ve wasted my youth already.’ She’d once told Sophie that she felt her life had become too settled, too young, but she loved it, so what was she to do?

‘Silly! We could arrange to go again, together. I’m going to have my fare paid back when I arrive. I won’t have to find that money again.’ She pushed away the thought that her employers might forget to pay her back. It was such a large amount of money to spend all at one time. Although maybe, if the drilling rights came to anything … It was desperately unlikely, of course, but maybe possible enough to daydream about? She’d made a dossier for herself with all the papers photocopied and made sure she’d got every scrap of information from Uncle Eric before she left. If only she could bring this off. Anxiety about the possibility of trying to track down Cousin Rowena while she was working
shaded her enthusiasm a little. She had set herself a very difficult task.

Amanda, unaware of Sophie’s private thoughts, said, ‘At least you going to New York will get Doug off your back finally. I’ve never known anyone so clingy. You finished with him months ago and he still moons around after you, trying to get you back.’

Sophie eyed her friend. Any minute now would come the usual lecture about her being too soft. ‘Soft-hearted-Soph’ had been her nickname when they’d stopped dressing up and experimenting with make-up and begun to go out with real boys. ‘I didn’t take him back though,’ she said now, a touch indignantly.

‘No, but you do go for long walks with him, which is just encouraging him to think he’s got hope!’ Amanda didn’t approve of Sophie’s habit of staying friends with her exes.

Sophie sighed. ‘Well, you know, I hate letting people down.’

‘It’s fine to be kind, Soph, but with you it’s all one way – you’re always there for them but they’re not there for you! You even pay for everything!’

‘I’ve learnt my lesson. I’m never going out with a hopeless, hard-up weakling again. Promise.’

‘I suppose Doug was quite good-looking,’ admitted Amanda, cutting Sophie some slack.

‘And when I first met him he had a job! And a car! It was only after he met me that things went pear-shaped, and I couldn’t dump him then, could I?’

‘Well, you could have dumped him because you’d found out how self-obsessed and boring he was.’

‘No! Not then!’

‘And what about the drunken texting, begging you to take him back?’

That had been a real pain and still happened from time to
time, but if she mentioned it, Amanda would go on lecturing her for ever. ‘Listen! I have dumped him and he won’t be able to reach me in New York, anyway.’

Amanda let her off the hook. ‘Are you planning to do much shopping?’

‘I don’t think I’ll be in the actual city for long, if at all. I’m being picked up by my family at the airport and being driven to where they live.’ A wrinkle of anxiety crossed her brow. ‘Supposing I don’t get on with the children? It could be quite isolated.’

‘Of course you’ll get on with them! You’re brilliant with kids! You’ll be making Thanksgiving costumes for them before you’ve unpacked!’ Amanda gave her a little shove to emphasise her point. ‘They’ll be all over you.’

Soothed by this enthusiasm Sophie said, ‘I’m not sure they dress up for Thanksgiving. I think that’s Halloween.’

‘Same difference,’ said Amanda. ‘Have another drink.’ She poured them both another glass of wine, topped up their water glasses and went on, ‘So you won’t get to spend much time with Milly?’

‘Only if I get time off and a bit at the end, I hope. I gather her flat is tiny. Not that that would matter.’

‘So where does your family live?’

‘Maine. I’m hoping for a clapboard house with its letter box—’

‘Mail box.’

‘—on a stick, where the paperboy just flings the Sunday papers on to the lawn.’

‘Oh, you’re going to have such a good time,’ said Amanda. ‘I can feel it in my water!’

Sophie made a face. ‘You haven’t started drinking your own water, have you? When did that happen?’

‘Oh you!’ Then she frowned. ‘I am going to miss you!’

‘You and Doug both!’

*

Sophie’s mother sat on her bed while she packed. ‘We are going to miss you, darling,’ she said, unknowingly echoing Amanda.

‘Not really. You’ve all got busy lives.’ Sophie wondered if she could ask her mother to transfer to the chair so she could spread out her things and make sure she had everything. ‘Now where’s my list?’

‘I can’t believe you’re so organised!’ Sophie’s mother made it sound like a fault. ‘When I was your age I just flung things into a bag and took off!’

‘I’d do that too, only I don’t want to take things I won’t need, or forget anything.’ Sophie found her list, consulted it, and put in the last couple of items.

Later, when her mother had drifted off to make them both a cup of tea, Sophie emptied her rucksack, put her dossier in the bottom, and repacked. When she got there she’d start looking at telephone directories for Cousin Rowena, and possibly ask her employers for help.

She had much more room in her rucksack the second time around, but thinking of future shopping opportunities, she didn’t add anything, she just went downstairs to join her mother in the kitchen.

Finally it was time for her to set off on her adventure; she’d begun to see it as such. Amanda drove Sophie to the airport, her family being otherwise engaged as usual. As she had to get back she’d just dropped Sophie off but it was still lovely to have a lift. It was a treat not to have to get there by public transport.

Sophie liked flying. She liked the little packets in the meals, looking at the other people, and having time to read and doze. But it was a long flight, and when they’d finally arrived and she’d gone through security, which seemed to take for
ever, involving having her fingerprints and a picture of her iris taken, and answering a lot of questions, she felt a bit battered. To add to her feeling of anticlimax there was no jolly family holding up a placard with her name on it.

She forced herself to relax. They could have been held up in traffic, got the time of her arrival wrong – anything. She’d just be patient and watch the world go by.

She waited for an hour and then burrowed in her rucksack for the bit of paper with the telephone number on. She tried several permutations of the number, with prefixes and without, before eventually she got through.

‘Hi! This is Sophie, Sophie Apperly? I’m here!’ she said, fighting a wave of fatigue that hit her just at the wrong moment.

There was a horrified silence at the end of the phone and then, ‘Oh, Sophie, honey, didn’t you get my email? I sent it yesterday.’ The woman sounded just as nice as she’d seemed over their email correspondence – but not happy.

Sophie’s spirits, already lowered by jet lag, descended further. ‘I was offline yesterday, before I left.’

‘Oh honey, that’s a shame! We’ve had a family crisis here and we all have to go to California. We’re packing up now.’

‘Oh.’

‘My mother is sick and I couldn’t leave the kids with someone they don’t know – I’m sure you understand. I emailed you the moment I found out just how sick Mom is. I even tried to call you.’

Sophie found herself about to apologise for not getting the message or picking up the email and then she remembered it wasn’t her fault. She stifled a sigh. She felt deflated. An hour ago she’d been so excited to be here at last and moreover able to fund her trip and now it had all been snatched from her. What on earth was she going to do?