Free The Nearly-Weds by Jane Costello

thought I’d get a design that emulated one of theirs.’
    ‘Top banana,’ says Trudie. ‘What does the one you’ve already got say?’
    Amber pushes up the sleeve on her baba blouse and examines the symbol at the top of her arm. ‘It’s Tibetan kanji. ’
    ‘Right,’ says Trudie. ‘But what’s it say?’
    ‘Well, um, it’s just some words surrounding a philosophy I used to feel strongly about.’
    ‘I know, but what’s the translation?’
    ‘Well, um . . . “Mind, soul and spirit are my strength.”’
    ‘Oh, right,’ says Trudie. ‘Nice.’
    ‘At least,’ Amber coughs, ‘that’s what it’s supposed to say.’
    Trudie frowns questioningly.
    ‘I found out about a year ago that it might not quite say that.’
    ‘Might not?’ repeats Trudie.
    ‘Um . . . doesn’t.’
    ‘So what does it say?’ asks Trudie, scrunching up her nose.
    ‘Well, I had no reason to question the chap who did it when he said he was a Buddhist. I mean, it could have happened to anyone, really, so before I—’
    ‘So what does it say?’ Trudie persists.
    Amber flicks a dreadlock defensively. ‘Batteries not included.’

Chapter 16
    I’m already learning that Trudie isn’t what you’d call a stickler for the golden nutritional guidelines as laid out by the nanny books. In fact, the spread she’s put on for us today is enough to give Jamie Oliver heart failure.
    The feast began with a mountain of anaemic bread spread haphazardly with an indefinable gunk that Trudie advises is ‘spray cheese’, an ingredient she champions as one of America’s greatest culinary inventions. It’s piled on plates overflowing with crisps, doughnuts, M&Ms and other items so laden with saturated fat that just looking at them would make your cellulite explode.
    Unsurprisingly, none of the children is complaining.
    Trudie’s twins begin excitedly to demolish the sky-scrapers on their plates and while Brett, Amber’s four-year-old charge, is somewhat alarmed at first, one bite of a nacho confirms that he’s more than prepared to forfeit his usual roughage-packed lunch.
    ‘How did you end up here as a nanny?’ I ask Amber.
    ‘Au pair,’ she corrects me. ‘It’s just a stop-gap for the summer. I’d been travelling in India and went back to the UK to apply for a job teaching aromatherapy to reformed drug addicts but I didn’t get it. My sister came out here last year as an au pair and enjoyed it, so I thought I might give it a go.’
    ‘And do you like it?’
    ‘Yeah, I do, actually,’ she replies. ‘I mean, I’m not in it for the long term or anything, and I’m nothing like as qualified as you, but—’
    Andrew burps – so loudly that you’d never have guessed he was only three foot tall.
    ‘Bless him, I don’t think he’s used to food like this,’ says Trudie, throwing a handful of M&Ms into her mouth. ‘His mum likes me to feed them dead healthily – and I do usually. Despite what it does to the contents of their nappies.’
    ‘So she wouldn’t approve of all this?’ I ask.
    ‘Well,’ shrugs Trudie, dismissively, ‘I thought I’d do a special lunch today since you lot were coming over. Just for a treat. I mean, nobody would mind that, would they?’
    ‘Probably not,’ I agree. ‘But if you were giving them this every day, some parents would wheel you off to social services.’
    A door slams. Trudie’s face registers such alarm you’d think she’d come face to face with King Kong. ‘Bloody hell! It’s Barbara!’ she hisses. ‘Quick! Get rid of some of this food, please! Come on – quick.’
    ‘But I thought you said she’d be okay about it for a treat?’ I say.
    ‘It’s not a theory I want to test, love.’ She sprints to the fridge. ‘Now – help!’
    There’s something about the way she delivers this order that sends me and Amber into a panic.
    I drop my doughnut and bundle food into the nearest bin, to the children’s stunned bewilderment.
    ‘Green stuff on the kids’ plates –