Until You're Mine Read Online Free Page A

allowed to, she means. She shows me a large room with sumptuous cream sofas. No television, just lots of old paintings on the walls and antique tables with glass dishes and lamps set upon them. I imagine the twins wearing their muddiest shoes, leaping from sofa to sofa, brandishing large sticks, while the ornaments go flying and the paintings rip. I stifle the smile.
    ‘And we watch telly in here,’ she says as we move into the next room. ‘It gets really warm and snug when the fire’s lit.’ Claudia holds the door open and I peek in. I see big purple sofas and a thick furry rug. One wall is lined with bookshelves, overflowing with paperbacks. I imagine reading with the boys in here, waiting for Claudia to get home, running her a bath, wondering about her due date. I will be the perfect nanny.
    ‘And then there’s the playroom.’ She hesitates, hand on door knob. ‘Sure you want to go in? It’s usually a bit of a zoo.’
    ‘Very nice,’ I say, stepping past Claudia. This is where I must shine. ‘Excellent. You have loads of Lego. I love it. And look at all their books. I insist on reading to my children at least three times a day.’ I’d better be careful. Claudia is looking at me as if I’m almost too perfect.
    Upstairs an array of bedrooms spans off the galleried landing. I peek into the guest suite, and then she shows me the boys’ room. They share. The room is tidy. Two single beds with scarlet and blue duvets, a big rug printed with grey roads and flat houses, and, over in the corner, a couple of cages with, I suppose, hamsters or mice inside.
    ‘We have a cleaner who comes in three times a week. You wouldn’t need to do any of that.’
    I nod. ‘I don’t mind doing bits and pieces around the house but I prefer to spend my time caring for the children.’
    ‘Come up and see your rooms then.’
    Your rooms
.
    Another flight of stairs takes us to the top floor. It’s not an attic of the dusty-full-of-boxes kind but the sort with sloping ceilings, beams and old country-style furniture. A battered white-painted chest stands on the small landing. The floor is covered with sisal and patchwork hearts hang from the doors that lead off the area.
    ‘There are three rooms up here. A small bedroom, a living room and a bathroom. You’re welcome to eat with us in the kitchen. Use it as your own.’
    Your own
.
    ‘It’s beautiful,’ I say. ‘Very homely.’ It’s like something out of an interiors magazine and not really my style, if I’m honest.
    ‘You’ll get a bit of peace up here. I’ll make it a no-fly zone for the boys.’
    ‘Oh, that’s not necessary. We could have fun up here.’ I check out the rooms again, stepping into each like an excited kid. The bedroom has a sloping ceiling and a little window overlooking the garden, while the bathroom has a roll-top bath and an old-fashioned loo. ‘I love it,’ I say, desperate for her to know I like it without giving away my virtual homelessness.
    Back in the kitchen, where James is behind the newspaper again, Claudia hands me a list. It spans two pages. ‘Something for you to take away and consider,’ she says. ‘A list of duties and things we expect. Plus those we don’t.’
    ‘A great idea,’ I say. ‘There’s no chance of confusion then,’ I add, thinking that however many lists she writes, whatever ground-rules and job descriptions she dreams up, they’ll all seem rather futile in the long run. ‘I’m always open to suggestions from my families. I like to have a weekly meeting with parents to discuss how the children are doing, stuff like that.’
    Then the twins are leaping about at my side like a pair of yapping terriers.
    ‘See mine, see mine!’
    ‘No, mine!’
    ‘Look what you’ve started,’ Claudia says with a laugh but then suddenly stretches her hands round her lower back. She leans against the worktop and grimaces.
    ‘Are you OK, darling?’ James makes to get up but Claudia wafts her hands at him, mouthing
I’m