What the Nanny Saw by Fiona Neill

high to risk a call. Then there were Rosa, Tom, Maia, her parents, and Will MacDonald. Impulsively, she deleted her tutor’s details as surplus to requirement. Rosa, however, picked up straight away.
    “Hello, stranger,” Rosa said warmly, even though it was less than a week since she had organized a party to celebrate Ali’s departure. Ali understood. University friendships depended on day-to-day contact, and she was already out of the loop. “How’s it going?”
    “Good,” said Ali. “More complicated than I imagined. Difficult to form relationships with so many different people in such a short space of time, but Hector and Alfie are really sweet. And my room is enormous. You’ll have to come and stay. I’m allowed girlfriends.”
    “Great,” said Rosa. Ali could tell her attention was already wandering and knew it would be difficult to lure her away to London from the intense self-contained world on campus.
    “How’s your new flatmate?”
    “What?”
    “The girl who took my room.”
    “You chose well,” said Rosa. “She’s great.” Ali heard a voice in the background.
    “Who’s with you?”
    “Can’t talk,” Rosa said, and giggled.
    “New love interest?” questioned Ali.
    “New lust interest,” confirmed Rosa. “Can I call later?”
    “I have to get up at six-thirty, so maybe tomorrow,” said Ali.
    “Sure,” said Rosa.
    It was a phone call that reinforced Ali’s sense of isolation. Of course Bryony communicated with her. But it was a virtual relationship conducted by BlackBerry in short, terse sentences at odd times of day. “Izzy cello?” read one. “Jake weekend plans?” read another. “Twins MMR?” Nick was out of the picture. She had seen him only once the whole week.
    •   •   •
    “And who are you?” Foy turned his attention to Ali again. “Apart from being the kind of person who requires people to ask the same question twice.”
    Ali found Foy’s sudden attention almost more unwelcome than the previous neglect. She regretted the denim miniskirt and leggings that she was wearing and wished she had put on something more sober. She wrapped her cardigan tightly around her and pulled down the sleeves. She lacked gravitas.
    “Sorry, Dad, I should have introduced you,” said Bryony apologetically. Ali stuck out her hand as far as it would stretch in an effort to keep Foy at bay.
    “This is Ali, our fantastic new nanny,” said Bryony, an approving arm resting protectively around Ali’s shoulder. “Be nice to her, because she only moved in this week.”
    “What happened to the other one?” asked Foy.
    “She got pregnant,” Tita reminded him.
    “I thought that was the one before?” Foy said.
    “No, she was the one who kept locking the twins in the playroom when she—” said Tita.
    “We don’t talk about that anymore,” Bryony interrupted.
    “You can’t have a nanny this pretty with a teenage boy in the house,” said Foy dramatically. Fortunately, Jake was sitting at the table wearing his headphones and didn’t hear him.
    “You can’t say things like that, Dad. She’s an English-language graduate from the University of East Anglia,” Bryony explained, trying to divert her father. “She’s helping the children with their schoolwork as well as looking after them when I’m working. Like Jane Eyre.”
    Ali looked embarrassed.
    “What do we have for Ali?” Foy shouted over to Tita. Tita glided toward Ali and silently held out her hand for Ali to shake it. It was small and bony, and reminded Ali of the swallows that used to nest in the eaves outside her bedroom in Cromer.
    “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Chesterton,” said Ali nervously.
    “How about a jar of honey?” suggested Tita.
    “What’s a young girl like this going to do with a jar of honey?” said Foy dismissively. “Do we have an extra sarong, Tita?” Tita shook her head.
    “Then we’ll have to get you something when you come to Corfu,” said Foy. “You’ll be coming out in the