Jane’s employers plan a luxurious holiday away, tagging her along to look after their children. While they promised that they would take care of all the expenses, it is only when they return home that they demand that Jane play her part and pay for her plane tickets. But Jane won’t give up that easily.
“Jane, can you come into the living room?” Mrs. Smith called out, her teaspoon clinking as she stirred sugar into the cup of tea Melanie, the helper, had just given her.
I was tidying up the playroom.
“Now, please,” she added.
Her tone was sweet, but something felt off. I walked into the living room, trying to keep my nerves at bay.
“Sure, Mrs. Smith. What’s up?” I replied, wiping the disinfectant onto my jeans.
Jane, we need to talk about the vacation.”
I nodded, curious.
We had been home for two days now. Back from our trip to the seaside, staying in a luxurious resort. It was almost the break I needed, minus the fact that I had the Smiths’ three children, and their friends, the Johnsons’ two sons to care for as well.
I was just doing my job in a fancier location.
“Of course,” I said. “It was a lovely trip. Thank you again for inviting me.”
“Yes, well,” Mrs. Smith started. “We need to discuss the plane tickets. When will you be able to return the $1000?”
We’ll deal with it, darling,” my mother coughed into the phone when I told her the truth of the matter.
At the luncheon, I walked around, casually mentioning to the ladies how much I admired Mrs. Smith’s collection, making sure that I spoke to Eva, Mina’s employer.
“Mrs. Smith has a stunning handbag similar to yours,” I said. “Gucci. Did she lend you this one? She’s always telling me that she lends her things out because she has so much.”
Eva looked at me over the top of her champagne glass.
“Is that so, Jane?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.Whispers started circulating. By the end of the luncheon, Mrs. Smith’s reputation for borrowing without returning was the hot topic.The next morning, her friends began asking for their things back.Mrs. Smith was mortified.During dinner the next night, Mr. Smith called me to the table, asking me to join them.“Thank you, but I usually wait for Ivy and Melanie to eat,” I said politely, mentioning the chef and her helper.“No, sit with us,” he insisted.
I obliged.Despite his tone, I hoped that maybe he was going to tell me that the money could be forgotten. And that everything would return as normal.“It has come to my attention that an anonymous email has gone out,” he said, cutting into his steak.“A disgusting email,” Mrs. Smith added, taking a long sip of her wine.“Did you have anything to do with it?” he asked me, his eyes trying to coax a confession out of me.I shook my head, looking down at my plate.
“Then that settles it,” he said, knowingly. “You’re dismissed. You can pack up and get out tomorrow.”
I did exactly as I was told and moved back home. A week later, Mrs. Johnson called me.
“Jane, can you come over for tea?” she asked warmly.
“Of course, Mrs. Johnson,” I replied, curious about the nature of the invitation.
As we sat in her luxurious living room, she looked at me with genuine concern.
“I heard about what the Smiths did to you. It’s disgraceful.”
Well,” she continued. “We’ve decided to cut ties with the Smiths entirely. And we’d like to offer you a job. Better pay, better working conditions. We could use someone like you for our kids.”I was stunned.“Of course!” I exclaimed. I needed the job desperately.“You’ve earned it,” she smiled. “The boys loved having you watch them during the holiday. And somehow, you got Jonathan to eat his peas!”I don’t know how the Smiths reacted to me working for the Johnsons, but I hoped that they felt betrayed.What would you have done?