Jill Mansell: Sheer Mischief

Put it on my bill,’ said Guy casually, producing his wallet and pulling out a wad of twenties. With a self-deprecating smile he added, ‘She’s been our nanny for the last three years.

Holding the reception at our house is my present to her.’

‘How lovely.’ Janey returned his smile, then gave Ella an apologetic shrug. ‘I’m afraid daffodils are out of season now, but maybe we could see which flowers Berenice has chosen for her bouquet and work from there. I’ll have to check to be sure, but I think she decided on a yellow and white colour scheme. Yes, that’s it ... white roses and sweet peas with mimosa.’

Guy Cassidy didn’t even flinch when she eventually wrote down the estimated cost of the work involved.

‘As long as it looks good,’ he said good-humouredly, dealing the notes on to the counter.

Then, as an apparent afterthought, he glanced down at his children and added, ‘Actually, whilst we’re here, why don’t you two pick out a bunch of something-or-other for your new nanny?

She’s arriving tomorrow afternoon and some nice flowers will make her feel welcome.’

Josh liked the green, earthy smell of the shop but he was bored sick with flowers.

‘They haven’t got dandelions or deadly nightshade,’ he said, his tone dismissive.

‘Or stinging nettles,’ put in Ella with a smirk.

Poor new nanny, thought Janey. Without speaking, she selected a generous bunch of baby-pink spray carnations, wrapped them in pink-and-silver paper and calmly handed them to Josh.

Appalled, he said, ‘Boys don’t carry flowers,’ and shoved them into Ella’s unsuspecting arms.

Janey, watching the expression on his face, burst out laughing.

And Guy, who had in turn been watching her, said, ‘Of course. You’re Maxine Vaughan’s sister.’

‘Oh help!’ said Janey. ‘Not necessarily. Not if it means you cancelling the order.’

He looked amused. ‘Don’t panic, I don’t think I could face the prospect of going into another shop and starting all over again.’

‘But how did you know?’ She flushed. ‘We aren’t a bit alike.’

Tilting his head to one side and studying her in greater detail, he disagreed. ‘Physically, there are similarities. She’s skinnier ... blonder ... wears more make-up than you do, but the resemblance is still there. And you have the same laugh.’

This must all be part of the famous Cassidy charm, thought Janey. By cleverly reversing the usual comparisons he had actually managed to make her sound more attractive than Maxine.

What a neat trick.

‘And at least you’ve managed to find a new nanny.’ Changing the subject, she nodded at the gift-wrapped carnations. With an encouraging smile at Josh and Ella, she said, ‘Is she nice?’

‘She’s a wimp,’ replied Josh flatly.

‘But honest,’ Guy interjected, shooting him a warning look before returning his attention to Janey. ‘Unlike your sister.’

‘Look, Maxine isn’t as bad as you think,’ she bridled, springing instinctively to her defence.

‘She really wanted to work for you. And children adore her. If you ask me, you could have done a lot worse.’

‘Of course children adore her,’ drawled Guy. ‘She bribes them with money and ice cream.’

Josh brightened. ‘I liked her. The lady in the wedding dress, you mean? She was good fun.’

‘She had good references too,’ Guy remarked tersely, ‘but that still doesn’t make her ideal nanny material. Has she found another job yet?’

Janey shook her head. Maxine’s efforts in that department had been half-hearted to say the least. ‘Not yet.’

‘Hardly surprising,’ said Guy, his blue eyes narrowing with amused derision. ‘Tell her from me, the next time she writes out her own references not to use violet ink. At least, not if she’s planning to trot off to the interview with a smudge of it on the inside of her wrist.’

Chapter 5

Janey was leaning into the back of the van, stretching for the box of flowers which had slid up to the front and wedged itself behind the passenger seat, when Bruno gave her sticking-out bottom a friendly pat.

‘You’ll do that gorgeous body of yours an injury,’ he said, nudging her out of the way and taking over. ‘Come on, leave it to me.’

She flushed and smiled, and glanced quickly over her shoulder in case anyone was watching. Bruno, a notorious flirt, didn’t mean anything by the playful gesture, but she still wouldn’t like Nina to get the wrong idea.

Intercepting her glance as he carried the box into the empty restaurant, he winked. ‘It’s OK, she’s still asleep.’

‘She might be,’ Janey protested. ‘But you know what people are like for gossip around here.’

‘Exactly. And they know what I’m like,’ Bruno countered with an unrepentant grin.

‘They’d be far more suspicious if I didn’t lay a finger on you. Then they’d really know they had something to gossip about.’

He was pouring them both an espresso, as he invariably did when she arrived with the twice-weekly delivery of flowers for the restaurant.

It was ridiculous, thought Janey; since nothing had ever happened between them, there was no reason at all why she should feel guilty. But she felt it just the same, because no matter how many times she told herself that circumstances made him the most wildly unsuitable choice, her muddled emotions had taken charge and made the decision for her.

At the age of twenty-eight, she had developed a humiliating crush on Bruno Parry-Brent.

And all she could do now was hope and pray that it would burn itself out before anything did happen.

In the meantime, however, it was so nice to feel human again, after all the endless months of aching deep-frozen nothingness. And Bruno was undeniably good company. A ladies’ man in every sense of the word, he possessed that happy knack of being able to talk about anything under the sun. Even more miraculously he was a great listener as well, always genuinely interested in hearing other people’s views. He paid attention, asked questions, never appeared bored.

It was, of course the great secret of his success with the opposite sex. Janey had watched him at work in the restaurant before now, weaving his magic in the simplest and most effective way possible. Real conversation with a real man was a powerful aphrodisiac and the women succumbed to it in droves, as Janey herself had done. But it was better this way, she felt, at least there was safety in numbers.

‘New earrings,’ he observed, bringing the tiny white cups of espresso to the table where she was sitting and leaning forward to examine them more closely. ‘Very chic, Janey. Are those real pearls?’

‘They’re Maxine’s.’ Self-consciously, she fingered the slightly over-the-top earrings and prayed he wouldn’t guess that he was the reason she was wearing them. Even Maxine had raised her eyebrows when she’d caught Janey digging around in her jewellery box. ‘Earrings, lip gloss and mascara?’ she’d remarked in arch tones. ‘Darling, are you sure there isn’t something you’d like to tell me?’

But diplomacy was another of Bruno’s assets and, if he’d noticed such additional details himself, he was too nice to comment on them. Instead, stretching out in his seat and pushing his fingers through his long, sun-streaked hair, he said, ‘I was going to ask you about Maxine. So you haven’t managed to get rid of her yet?’

Janey pulled a face. ‘She won’t go, she won’t look for work and she’s so untidy: it’s like living with a huge, unmanageable wolfhound.’

‘But house-trained, presumably.’ Bruno grinned. ‘You haven’t told me yet, what does she look like?’

‘Maxine?’ As she sipped her coffee, Guy Cassidy’s words came back to her. ‘Skinnier, blonder and noisier than me.’ Then, because it sounded catty when she said it, she added shamefacedly, ‘And much prettier.’