| The 40 In 40 Days Project. | ||
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1. The Au Pairs (1966-68) |
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The Au Pairs |
As a family, we
were still quite posh in the 1960s. Sort of lower end of upper middle.
So, of course, we had to have au pairs. There were five in all: Au Pair Number One was
Genevieve, just 16 years old, from Paris. She was a feisty, wild, free,
rebellious spirit (by our sheltered standards, at least) – full of fun
and laughter – so my sister and I loved her, of course. Whilst my
parents were deeply suspicious, of course. Genevieve was eventually sent home
early in disgrace. My father had to haul her out of one of the village
pubs after midnight, where she was found enjoying a lock-in with a bunch
of long distance lorry drivers. Atta girl! Au Pair Number Two was Elsa,
from Austria. She used to sit me on her knee and teach me German nursery
rhymes (eins zwei drei! pikka pokka pei!). I thought she was lovely. So lovely that – on her very first
day – I took her down to a spot at the bottom of the garden which
I’d named “Thoughtful Place”, and asked her to marry me. When my
grandmother came down to see where we were, I apparently told her “Go
away Granny – Elsa and I are getting married!” Of course, she turned me down and I
turned queer instead. That’s where it all started, you know! From a
broken heart! Au Pair Number Three was Noelle,
from a village near Barbizon, south of Paris. She was more of a distant
figure at the time, who spent more time helping my mother round the
house than playing with me and my sister. In fact, I even complained
about this once to my parents. Oh, I knew my rights. Despite this, Noelle was the only au
pair with whom we stayed in touch. Every Easter for a few years
afterwards, I would fly out unaccompanied to Paris or Boulogne, to stay
with her and her family. She would let me into her secrets (“Do not
tell my father! He will be very angry!”) and I would meet her
boyfriends (I particularly remember a dishy communist called Jean). Noelle was – is! – obsessed with
Thomas Hardy, and we used to think that she was rather too fond of
casting herself as one of his tragic heroines, forever to be doomed in
love. However, the real thing finally came in the shape of a jolly road
sweeper, who she took up the aisle in Summer 2000. My mother and I flew out for the
wedding, which was held in a large church in the small town of
Milly-en-le-Foret, where Noelle works as an English teacher. She also
sings with a choir, who were all there to sing for her in church, in a
programme of music which she’d carefully chosen for the occasion. As
the choir sang to her (quite beautifully, I might add), she came down
the aisle with her groom from across the social divide (some her family
disapproved strongly of the match, and boycotted the wedding). Well into
her fifties, and with half her face semi-paralysed from a stroke many
years earlier, she looked serene, yet somehow triumphant at the same
time. Love had finally come at last. I cried and cried. It’s the only
time I’ve ever cried at a wedding. Au Pair Number Four was Anne,
from a small Finnish coastal town called Rauma. Like Genevieve, she was
fun, always laughing, and always had time to play games with us. Also
like Genevieve, she was a teenage “looker” who could wrap all the
local boys round her little finger – and she knew it. But none of them
ever really got anywhere with her (not for want of trying, either) –
as soon as she got back to Finland, she got engaged to the boy from back
home, and married him not long afterwards. Au Pair Number Five was Tuula,
also from Rauma. Unlike Anne, Tuula was a reserved, morose figure. She
would sit quietly in the living room, reading for hours on end. Her
reading material? An English dictionary, which she was reading from
cover to cover as if it were a novel. No-one knew how to get through to her.
Everyone found her weird, difficult. What nobody knew at the time was
that Tuula’s parents were in the process of splitting up – she had
taken the au pair position as a way of escaping her miserable home life. Various eligible boys in the village
were introduced to her – she showed no interest in any of them. In
fact, there was only one person whom she would open up to. Me, as it
happens! Tuula and I got on famously well. We would go into little
huddles in my room, and she would tell me all about Finland – I was
fascinated, and badly wanted to visit. She even taught me simple
conversational Finnish, which I used with glee. I don’t know what became of her, but
I hope she found happiness. As it was, I didn’t get to visit Finland
until 1994, by which time I’d forgotten all my Finnish except the
numbers and the days of the week. Ever seen the 1959 film Upstairs
And Downstairs? Well, it was all a bit like that in our family for a
while. There was just one thing I couldn’t understand: why didn’t we
ever get Au Pair Boys? I got quite wistful over this. Wouldn’t it be
great to have an Au Pair Boy to play with me and tuck me up in bed at
night? Hmmm. I’m saying nothing else…. |