Page 8 of The Accidental Nanny (All Of You #1)

CHAPTER SIX

Alex

I arrive at my office, get a cup of coffee, and sit at my desk.

I keep checking my phone for news that the house has burnt down or that someone's died because Gemma's tried to make toast in the bathroom.

Is that something she would do? I wouldn't put it past her.

I have to resist the urge to call her; my mother is there, keeping an eye on things.

I try to focus on work, but it's hard. Gemma is a social media influencer.

What can she know about kids? Still, Eden loves her to pieces, and she makes Ace smile.

Maybe she isn't a terrible thing, although showing up in the middle of the night to move in is off-putting.

She is spoiled, entitled, stubborn, and yet, I can't stop thinking about that video of her in the bikini.

There's a knock at my door and I look up.

"Hi, I'm here for an interview," a tall girl says. "My name is Fern Fletcher. I was told to come straight here." Her red hair is wound up in a bun, and she looks smart in her white blouse and black trousers .

“I recognise you from somewhere,” Fern says as she scrunches up her brows and gazes at me.

I do the same, trying to figure out where I know her from. It hits me—the Edwards’ ball. I remember her well.

“One of those faces,” I say with a smile. “Anyway, the job.” I am not interested in the fact that we had met briefly before. We’re here because of work-related matters.

“Sorry, yes. I’ve had several years working for my brother. He’s in charge…” she begins to explain.

I wave off her explanation. “Yes. I’ve seen your application.

Look, I’m not going to mess around. Can you do the job?

Ivy thinks you’ll be perfect and to be honest, I don’t have time for this.

Ivy normally does interviews for me, but she’s off now until next week.

You seem qualified enough.” I stare at her.

“Is that all you have to say?” Fern crosses her arms. She seems mad at me because I’m offering her the job.

“Do you want the job, or not?” I ask, waiting for a yes or no answer.

“Yes. But…”

“Look, I’m busy. Ivy isn’t here. I’ve got a meeting and nobody to assist.” An idea pops into my head. “Can you start now?”

“But… I don’t know the system or how Ivy does things, and…” Fern looks flustered, blotchy patches appearing on her cheeks.

I look at her, wanting a yes or no answer. I don’t have time to explain everything to her first. “Fine. Come with me.” I walk her to the computer in the reception room, logging in as she watches.

“Here’s the password.” I point to a piece of paper with a bunch of letters and numbers on it before typing it in on the computer. Looking around, I can’t find the schedule for the day .

“May I?” Fern asks. Half a minute later, she says, “Got it.” She opens the diary, looking through my meetings.

“Call the other job applicants. Tell them they are unsuccessful,” I tell her as I walk off.

“Where’s the…” Fern calls after me.

I close my office door, not hearing the end of her sentence. Soon, my mobile phone rings—it’s my elusive wife.

“Julia,” I answer, weary about what she might want.

“Please sign the papers,” she begs. Not even a hello. I haven’t spoken to her in months, then I get two calls in two days.

“Why should I? Do you ever consider the children? For fuck’s sake, you walked out and never even said goodbye. You never gave us a reason. Why should I give you what you want when you don’t give a damn about our kids?” I feel like breaking her in two.

“Please, Alex. I’ll let you have full custody.” Her pleas just anger me more.

This isn't who I am. I'm not an angry person, yet I seethe as I speak to her. “You want the holiday home but not the children. You just want to skip merrily out of their lives.”

“Yes. They don’t need me,” she says with confidence

“I think you’ll find they do," I retort.

“Why do you care now? You never bothered when I was living at home. You never cared about me then. It was always about work,” Julia shouts at me.

At last, we're getting to the bottom of this. I wait for her to finish before I snap back. “Fine, punish me, but not the kids. Eden has nightmares every night. Ace doesn’t smile anymore. He’s angry all the time.

It isn't fair on them. What you're doing isn't fair. They are your children, they come from your body.”

“Stop, Alex. Stop!" she cries.

“Why should I?” I demand .

“Because I don’t love you,” she admits. "It's over, Alex. Can't you accept that?"

“And them? The children? Your children? Do you not love them?” I ask with desperation in my voice.

“I don’t love them either,” Julia says.

My heart breaks in two. The phone is silent on both ends. Anger doesn’t even cover what I’m feeling.

“I never wanted them. You did. Eden was a mistake. I could never bond with her. If you remember, I wanted an abortion. You said you would support me, but you left me to it. I had your mother interfering all the time. I wanted out of that life. I wanted to live again,” she yells down the line.

“You were too far gone for an abortion by the time we found out. Even if you wanted one, you couldn’t,” I reminded her. “I had the vasectomy after Eden was born, just like you wanted." My voice is louder than it should be given I’m at work.

“Not soon enough,” she screams at me.

“Have your divorce, but on one condition. I want your word that you’ll give up all legal rights to the children. I’ll have to be the one to tell them their own mother doesn’t love them.”

“Agreed,” Julia hisses, and slams the phone down in my ear.

Grabbing my laptop, I throw it across the room first. The coffee mug follows, hitting the office door, it smashes into bits. I walk out away from the mess, slamming the door behind me.

“Cancel all my meetings. I’m going home,” I yell at Fern as I head out.

“How do I leave?” Fern asks, rising out of her chair.

“Through the door,” I growl.

I need to hit something. Anything. My gym bag is in the back of the car, thank goodness.

Smelling my workout clothes, I figure they’ll do.

They are a little musty, but wearable. I pull up to the gym I haven’t used in six months, go inside, and ignore everyone in my path.

I change in no time, lacing my shoes before I storm over to the punching bags and throw my first strike.

Gemma

The lasagne is burnt. The three of us stare at its charred remains. I open all the windows to let out the smoke.

“How did you manage to burn it so badly?” Ace asks.

“We have salad,” I offer with a cringe. Both the children look at me like I’ve lost the plot. “Fine. Your dad said he would be home by now.” I look at the time on my phone: it’s gone five o’clock.

“I’m calling granny,” Ace proclaims, and runs off before I can stop him.

“Eden?” I look helplessly at the five-year-old girl.

“At least he won’t be mad that the kitchen is a mess,” she offers with a big grin, looking at the state of the room.

I shudder. I had tried to tidy up, but time got away from me after Jill left, and then I had to pick up the children from school. The sink is still filled with saucepans, and the kitchen units have food all over them.

“Not helpful,” I tell her, wagging my finger.

Eden’s giggles are so loud, no doubt the neighbours can hear them, which makes me laugh in return. Ace comes back with the home phone, handing it to me.

“What am I meant to do with that?” I ask as he puts it in my hands.

“Granny is on the phone.” Ace grins.

“Tell tale.” I poke my tongue out at Ace.

“You burnt it?”

“I put it on two hundred for forty-five minutes. It’s black. Everywhere.” I can hear the desperation in my voice.

“Are you sure?” Jill asks me .

“Definitely black,” I say after inspecting the lasagne again.

“No, are you sure you put it on for forty-five minutes?”

“I think so.” Did I put it on for forty-five minutes? Now, I’m questioning everything.

“I have a spare one here. Charlie will bring it over now,” she tells me.

“Charlie?” I ask.

“Grandad,” the kids yell in unison as they hear me say his name.

“Oh, Grandad. Thank you.” I put the phone down.

Twenty minutes later, and still no sign of Alex, a loud knock on the door which stops the kids laughing at my mess. They both run to answer it, with me following. Ace opens it.

“Grandad,” the children squeal.

An older man who Alex looks like, walks in with the new lasagne in his hands.

“Hello, you must be Gemma. Nice to meet you.” He carries the dish through to the kitchen. “It just needs to go in the microwave for ten minutes. I have instructions to wait and make sure you have no issues. Oh, there’s the other one. How did it get so black?”

The four of us now stare at the black lasagne again. Eden grabs a fork, poking at it.

“I don’t know. I put the timer on, opened the oven door, and well, it was just full of smoke.”

“Show me.”

So, I showed him what I pressed. He looks just as confused as I feel until he turns around to the two children.

“Own up. Who pressed the buttons?”

Eden’s eyes look down. Busted.

“Eden, why did you touch it?” Charlie asks. He folds his arms over his chest, looking intimidating.

“I wanted to press the buttons like Granny lets me, but Gemma wouldn’t let me touch it.”

“Right, I see. Well, I’ll leave that for your father to deal with. I best be going. Are you okay with the microwave?” he asks, looking at me.

“I think so,” I reply, looking and feeling confused by at all the buttons.

“This one here. Ten minutes.” Charlie shows me the timer.

“Thank you.” I smile at him. At least I can’t mess this up.

Three hours later, the kids are overtired and restless.

I tried to wait for Alex, as he promised to be home by five, and now it’s gone eight.

The children are wild, running around the living room, screaming and jumping.

Exhausted from the day, I sit on the sofa, giving up.

The kids aren’t listening to me; they only want their father.

At last, the front door opens and shuts with a loud force. Alex walks straight into the living room. The children stop and look at him.

“Why are they still up?” Alex yells at me.

“By the way you slammed the door, I’m sure you would have woken them up anyway,” I retort. He can’t talk to me like that. “Besides, they wanted to see you. You said you’d be back by five. I finished three hours ago. It’s been a long day for me.”

His eyes are weary, with a heavy frown crinkling his brows. He looks troubled. The kids continue to scream, running around the room completely out of control.

“Bed,” Alex shouts at them.

“No!” Eden screams, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. It hits a small vase, smashing it to pieces.

The room falls silent.

“What have you done?” Alex speaks, almost through gritted teeth. He bends to pick up the pieces.

“It was an accident.” I jump in to defend Eden .

Alex glowers at me. “They’re meant to be in bed. I hire you to watch them, not act out.”

“You said you would be home at five o’clock. The kids were waiting to see you,” I reiterate calmly. I don’t want the kids to see us arguing.

“Do your job,” he retorts.

“It’s just a vase. We can buy another one,” Eden tells him.

“That’s not the point, Eden. You shouldn’t have done it,” Alex shouts at her.

“I want Mummy.” Eden starts to cry. “I hate you. You’re mean.”

“Eden,” Alex yells.

“Go away. I want my mummy.” She’s crying now.

“Well, it’s tough. Mummy isn’t coming back. It’s just me.” Alex’s hands fly over his mouth at his words, and his eyes widen when he realises what he just said.He turns to me. “I need to talk to the children alone. Take tomorrow off. They won’t be going to school. I’ll need to be with them.”

I leave the room, but pause outside the door, trying to listen to what Alex is telling the kids in private. It isn’t until I hear the loud crying from two very small children that my heart sinks.

Whatever I thought about my job and being here matters little in comparison to this. Hearing them cry like that is too upsetting. They are so young to be hurting so much.

Ace opens the door, running past me, his eyes red. Alex is still holding onto Eden in the living room, cradling her in his arms like a small baby. She’s tiny compared to his six-foot frame. He carries her up the stairs. I wait for him to come back down, but he doesn’t show.

I fidget and then go to clean the kitchen. The least I can do is make sure it’s tidy for Alex in the morning if I'm having the day off. Besides, I can't sleep knowing how upset the children are.