Chapter Five

 

STELLA PHONED TO SAY that Robbie was progressing satisfactorily on his Piana. and wouldn’t let anyone else near it, let alone touch it. He didn’t stomp or bang the lid down as we had thought he might, but quite to the contrary, he gave it the kid-glove treatment ...polishing the woodwork and gently caressing the ivories with a special lint duster, that was used for absolutely nothing else. ... Apparently George came home one evening to find Robbie sound asleep with his head pressed down on the keyboard. I was pleased of course, and wished the little boy well. None of us were expecting him to become a concert pianist, but we knew it gave him pleasure ... and well ... isn’t that what life is all about?

 

***

 

Two weeks passed and I hadn’t heard a dickie … to use Stella vocabulary again … from Rowbottom, Rowbottom & Inge, so I decided to take a look at the flat which had become available through Messrs. Roscoe & Hammerton. I remember very clearly, it was a Friday and it must have been February 3rd. Yes, it must have been a Friday as I always used to wind the grandfather clock on that day, every month. I had just got dressed to go out to see the flat when a letter came through the letter box and peeped anglewise at me, before it fell, (after a second push by the postman,) onto my doormat. I hesitated for a moment before I picked it up.

Dear Miss Norton, it is with great pleasure that we are now able to offer you the post of residential nanny to Mr. and Mrs. Gerhardt Steiger. It would be much appreciated if you would confirm your acceptance of this position, as per the instructions already given to you a.s.a.p when we will be able to advise you further on the matter.

The letter was signed James J. Rowbottom and I read the signature with interest. I had only known him as J.J.W Rowbottom and now I had been invited into the inner chamber where he called himself James .J. I wondered what I had done to deserve that. I held the letter in my hand, rather nervously. It was one thing to apply for a post, with the anticipated excitement that accompanies such an ordeal, but quite another thing to get it. The responsibilities started now, I thought and I felt again that compulsion within me to obey the wind of fate and go where it took me. To refuse would be like an unyielding reed of corn ... I would snap.

I took my coat and gloves off again and went back into the kitchen to make myself a strong, sweet coffee, which was not my usual practice as I never took sugar. I hated it, but I was doing all the things one does when one has an aching tooth ... you poke it and probe it mercilessly to make it ache more. I thought of James. J. and his six spoonfuls of the stuff and then I telephoned Roscoe and Hammerton to instruct them to let the house for one year as I had arranged and I also declined the offer of the flat in Wimbledon, explaining that I was going away for a short while and that I would be in touch when I returned. I then telephoned Mr. Rowbottom and agreed to meet him again on the following Monday at 10.30 am where he said he would give me the final instructions on my post and more importantly, discuss the salary. How stupid that I hadn’t thought of that ...Perhaps the wind had touched my brain …?

Later that afternoon, when I spoke to Stella and George on the phone, they were astounded that I should accept such a position as a children’s nanny and felt that I had done enough nursing and looking after others for a life time. They felt it was time I went my own way and enjoyed myself. I wanted to agree ...I know I should have done and yet, deep down I also knew the my destiny was not as they saw it, even if I could see nothing myself in the future but more care and attention to others ... and I hoped, without sickness or pain. I’d seen enough of that. I could hear Robbie gurgling in the background and the noise of the piano being fingered, if somewhat haphazard and in a higgledy -piggledy fashion. I smiled as Stella tried to coax him to talk to me on the phone.

“Hello Darling,” I called out ...”Hello Robbie. Are you being a good boy? Do you like your new piano?”

I could hear the gurgling become louder and with more enthusiasm when I mentioned the piano and Stella whispering something that I couldn’t understand until she returned to the telephone.

“Say Hello to Auntie Amy ...Give her a big kiss Robbie.”

The little boy smacked his lips against the telephone and giggled wildly.

“He loves his piana Amy and he sends his love. I can see a certain look in his eye that I know so well. He loves you alright. Do take care, my Love and don’t work too hard and don’t forget, you’re welcome here any time ...You know that.”

George blew me a kiss down the phone too before the conversation ended and I put the phone down and stared at the fire. The blue and orange gas jets danced merrily in front of me to assure me that everything was just as it had always been. I watched them flicker; mesmerized ... and I wondered.

What did the future hold for me with Herr Gerhardt Steiger and his Scottish wife, I thought and then I remembered he liked to be called plain Mister when he was in Britain. James J. Rowbottom had been most emphatic about that point.