The History Room (33 page)

It had been easy to track down John Andrews’ nephew, Tim. He was a newspaper columnist and frequently wrote about his family: the wife who had bitten off more than she could chew, the kids
and the succession of hapless au pairs and nannies. Tim had been an only child and had inherited a small but pretty house on the Thames from his Uncle John, which they’d sold at just the
right time. Emily had found out most of the information herself, using the Land Registry and Internet, and asking the departing au pair some questions.

Jennifer opened the car door, executed a gentle karate chop round the waist of the toddler and manoeuvred him back into his car seat. ‘Four children? A house that we’re still
decorating?’ The boy twin squeezed through to the back row of seats. ‘I just don’t think we’re an attractive proposition.’ The girl twin sat between the baby and the
toddler in the second row. Emily checked she’d done up the baby’s belt properly. She knew car seat safety was one of those things that middle-class mummies were cuckoo about.

‘Wow, I know loads of people who’d love a job like this. Great house. Nice kids.’ She made clucking noises at the baby as she made sure the straps were right. She felt
Jennifer’s approving stare on her. The girl twin frowned at her. Emily’d need to watch that one.

Jennifer motioned to her take the front passenger seat. ‘We’re not exactly overrun with applicants.’

‘Really? They’re mad. I’ve worked for enough people to know a good situation.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You’ve been an au pair?’

‘And worked in a boarding school. Just finished there, in fact. Letchford School.’

‘Letchford?’ Awe in her voice. ‘Tim’s uncle taught there. He’s dead now.’

Emily tried not to let her lips move into a smile.

‘They gave me a great reference.’ She squeezed her bag more tightly to her. Inside was the ivory envelope with the thick headed writing paper in it, telling whomever it concerned
that Emily Collins was reliable, kind and honest. If Jennifer rang the telephone number on the reference she’d go through to the mobile of another girl Emily’d worked with at the
nightclub. A girl she’d observed stealing a bottle of vodka from the club stores. The girl knew what she had to say in the persona of Samantha Evans, headmaster’s PA.

‘I loved Letchford but I prefer younger kids on the whole. And I missed the soft furnishing work. I’m really interested in interior design.’ Careful, careful, don’t make
it too obvious. She clenched her fingers in her lap.

‘Lucky for me I saw your card in the shop.’

No question of luck at all. Emily knew that Jennifer always pushed the buggy up to the corner shop on her way to collect the twins from nursery. And that she studied the cards on the board with
desperation in her eyes.

Was it right to single out a mere relative of her father’s old enemy? Emily had wondered. Perhaps not. But why should anyone in the extended Andrews family be allowed to live a happy and
prosperous life when John Andrews had destroyed that possibility for everyone in Emily’s own family? She still didn’t know what she intended doing here. Nothing like the reborn doll.
Perhaps nothing at all. If the family of Tim Andrews treated her well they had nothing to fear.

‘I need to talk to Tim,’ Jennifer said. They were pulling into the car park now. ‘Perhaps . . .’ She gave a little half-smile. ‘Well, let’s just say you do
seem to have appeared in our lives at exactly the right time.’

Emily gave it ten minutes before the job was hers. She turned again to smile at the baby. The girl twin stuck out her tongue at her. Emily stared coldly at the child until her lower lip wobbled
and her small face grew pale.

Acknowledgements

My particular thanks to Jill Morrow, Kristina Riggle, Becky Motew, Barbara Derbyshire, Rebecca Kingston, Danielle Schaaf and Johnnie Graham for reading various drafts of this
book and commenting; and to my editor, Will Atkins.

Eliza Graham lives in the Vale of the White Horse in Oxfordshire, with her husband, children and dogs.

Also by Eliza Graham

Jubilee

First published 2012 by Pan

This electronic edition published 2012 by Pan
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Copyright © Eliza Graham 2012

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