Free The Difference a Day Makes by Carole Matthews Page A

easy.’
    ‘I will.’ My husband kisses my cheek. ‘Of course I will.’
    As I go back into the kitchen, I wonder if I can find the contents of our wine rack anywhere. A decent glass of red would go down a treat right now, even though it’s not yet lunchtime. This is what the relaxing life in the country has done to me - turned me into an alcoholic within two months.
    With that thought in mind, my step perks up no end. I could even be moved to whistle to myself. I bound into the kitchen where I find Maya standing in her jacket with her case at her feet. ‘I am leaving,’ she says.
    ‘What?’That stops me in my tracks, and my momentary lightness of spirit is flattened. ‘You can’t.’
    ‘I don’t like it here, Amy.’ Our treasured nanny begins to cry. ‘I did not want to come. But I did for you, for children. But I do not like it here. I do not like dog. He tries to sniff my bottom.’
    ‘He does that to everyone.’ It’s one of his traits I might not have mentioned. Every time you bend over in this house you feel the bump of canine nasal passages between your buttocks. The only person’s bottom I haven’t seen him try to sniff is Mrs Barnsley’s and I’d say that it was a rare moment of wisdom on Hamish’s part. ‘It means he likes you.’ Good grief, I’m defending him now.This is how desperate I am for Maya to stay.
    ‘Well, I do not like him. I not like finding dead mouses in slippers either. This house very windy and cold. What will I do on days off?’
    I note that my nanny hasn’t actually had a day off since we arrived. She hasn’t uttered a word of complaint - until now. That makes me feel terrible. ‘We’ll sort it all out, Maya. I promise you.’
    Maya shakes her head. ‘I am too young to live in country.’
    Me too.
    ‘Don’t do this.’ I feel like dropping to my knees. ‘Please don’t do this.’
    She rubs her red eyes. ‘My friend telephoned this morning. There is job for me. Back in London. More money and Mercedes Benz.’
    Well, that’ll sway the loyalties of many a nanny, but I had thought that Maya was different. I thought she was with us because she’d come to love us - as we love her. She’s more than a nanny, she’s my friend. Here, she’s my only friend. ‘Take your coat off,’ I beg. ‘Let me speak to William. We could get you your own little car, perhaps a pay rise. We need you here.’
    ‘I have been on internet,’ she says sadly. ‘I can catch train this afternoon. I have to call taxi now.’
    ‘Please wait. Don’t go without saying goodbye to the children. They’ll be devastated. They love you.’
    ‘I cannot see children. That will be too sad. I must go now.’
    My husband comes through the door, presumably in search of his wellies to give the dog his hosing down.
    ‘Maya’s leaving,’ I cry in anguish and grab his arm. ‘Tell her not to, Will. Tell her how much we love her. I said that we could buy her a little car. She’s not a Land Rover kind of girl.’ Any more than I am. I have complete sympathy with her. ‘Perhaps we can give her some more money.’
    Will sighs and pulls me to him. He lowers his voice when he speaks. ‘To be honest, Amy, I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to afford to keep Maya on.Things are tight. Now that we’re both at home, can’t we take care of everything ourselves?’
    ‘The children will be distraught. Maya’s been with us for years.’ Since Jessica was just turned two.
    Will’s voice becomes a whisper. ‘Perhaps it’s time to let her go.’
    Turning round, I realise that Maya has heard every word. ‘I should call taxi,’ she says, head hung low.
    If we wanted to, I’m sure that we could find the money from somewhere. Perhaps I should plead more with her, but how can I beg her to stay here with us when I’m not even sure that I want to be here myself? ‘I’ll drive you to the station,’ I say resignedly.
    I take the keys to the Land Rover from the hook, fighting down my anger, disappointment