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2
"We ask you don't allow the children to call you by your first name out of respect. We ask that you are reachable, even on your days off. Never allow them sugar or to be messy. We ask you…"
"Okay," Mr Cullen holds his hand up.
The rules were excessive. It had me wondering if the price to pay was worth the London life. It made me want to break them.
"She needs to know, Edward," she snaps.
The wife was a piece of work. They called it Tanya. Long fake nails, fake eyelashes, fake boobs. Probably fake knees. The only thing I doubt she faked was her personality. That was as real as the blue sky.
"If you'd like perhaps we could go other the rules after I meet the children," I propose, "so that I can get properly acquainted."
"Whatever, American" she huffs to herself.
Usually the accent makes them sound more charming, but unfortunately for her, it didn't do much. Edward was pure American, making me feel slightly more at home already whenever he spoke. He didn't do much of it considering his wife railroaded over him.
"That sounds perfect, Bella. Make yourself at home and please know the entire house is available to you," he says.
"Except for th…" Tanya begins.
"Everything," he snaps glaring at Tanya, "remember this is my home I just let you live in it."
"But the…" she tries again.
"Bella if you have any questions or issues Watson is a great member of my staff. If you can't find him, ask me, or my children. They tend to have answers for everything," he smirks at me.
The happiness is instantly gone as I turn to leave, and he turns back to his wife.
"I'm entitled to half, Edward. Don't fucking do this to us, to your children," she growls.
"You signed a prenup, Tanya," he mutters, "go away. Go spend more money on pointless shit, go pretend your kids don't exist. You've got a nanny now to mother on your behalf now."
"Jesus," I mutter quietly.
"Not even he could help," Watson gives me a sarcastic look before leading me further down the hall.
"Is this house just a hallway?" I ask.
"Yep. But unfortunately, you'd struggle to outrun Chuckie on his bike. She'd get you first anyway," his dry tone makes his bitching hilarious.
"Didn't take you like one for horror movies," I laugh.
He is growing on me already. Our equal distaste for Tanya Cullen was turning out to be common ground.
"I'm a fan of the theatre, Miss Swan," he smiles at me for the first time today, "perhaps you could join me on an occasion."
"Watson, I'd love that," the smile on my face feels fitting.
From foe to a friend - it's amazing what hatred of feral wives can do to people.
"Edward's children are quite the handful. They, unfortunately, have taken up a few of their mother's habits. When they do get to see her she isn't fond of setting an example," he says.
"How old are they, again?" I ask.
"Two 5-year-olds and a 1-year-old," he says, "Lucy, she's one of the twins and is probably the first friend you should make. She's a beautiful girl, but has recently found the new habit of saying 'whatever' when asked to do as she is told."
"Sassy," I giggle, "and her twin brother?"
"Seth. He really brings a whole new meaning to a rascal. It makes me quite sad really. All he wants is to run out and play in the mud, splash in puddles. However, his mother would rather have him sit in church clothes his entire childhood so as not to mortify herself in front of her charity friends," he huffs.
"Charity friends? Oh is she one of those wives that takes the husband's credit cards to events, sits there bidding but doesn't even know what charity she is donating to?" I ask already knowing the answer.
He simply taps his nose with his gloved finger, a telling look in his eyes.
"And the youngest child?" I ask.
"Now she'll melt your heart. Little Anna has a smile that could stop traffic," he smiles at me, "she's the most like Edward. Including the hair."
"How sweet," I say, "I can't wait to meet them all."
"Remember patience is key to this," he says, "they'll test you."
"My best friend told me to let them think they've won."
"Your friend is wise," Watson pushes on another set of double doors.
Surely they could have sufficed with single doors like the rest of us.
"Children," he says sharp.
They sit playing at a craft table, colouring. A toddler sits with her legs out in front of her, pushing building blocks over. All three of them stop glancing up at us.
Oh god, they're adorable. I thank every god humanity has for making them take after their father looks-wise. Their little eyes are wide and green, locks of bronze hair. The girls have loose curls while Seth's hair is cut short. Their limbs are chubby, cheeks full and rosy. I want to pinch!
"Watty," Seth yells out hands up, "you're back."
"This is Miss Swan. She's your new nanny," Watson ignores the nickname.
"Oh," Seth sounds almost disappointed, but I try not to take offence.
Smiling at Watson I walk away from him moving closer to the kids. Watson had mentioned numerous failed nannies in our interview and any thought of it may make me sad.
"Hi," I gasp at the toddler.
I lean down picking her up, instantly she gives me the smile Watson was telling me about.
"You're the cutest," I tickle her stomach, "absolutely adorable. Look how chubby your little cheeks are."
She giggles loudly as I tickle her little potbelly. Oh dear, I may kidnap this child.
"She's smelly sometimes," Lucy says.
I kneel down at their table, keeping Anna in my lap.
"She doesn't mean to. Your drawing is gorgeous, look at those colours. You must be Lucy," I say leaning over to inspect it properly.
"Yep," she presses her pencil into the paper, tongue sticking out as she concentrates.
"You are really talented at staying in the lines. You should give it to your mummy when you're all finished. She could put it on the fridge," I suggest.
"She won't," Lucy shakes her head.
"What about Daddy?" I ask taken aback slightly.
"He's never around," Seth tilts his head observing me.
"You must be Seth. Your drawing is pretty too. Would you mind if I joined you?" I ask.
For a moment I think they'll say no. Leaving me to return to my extravagant room rejected from colouring in Pooh Bear pictures.
"You can have my Princess book," Lucy says, suddenly handing me a copy, "who's your favourite one?"
"Ummm. Elsa," I say.
"Really?" Seth scoffs.
"Yes," I laugh, "She doesn't need a man to save her and I think that's important. Her sister helped her because family is so important, even when they accidentally upset us. Anna here is going to help me with mine and it'll be for your daddy. I don't know about you guys."
They exchange a look, like a quiet conversation. I almost feel like I'm invading their discussion.
"Mine too," Lucy sits up straighter leaning forward as if to see the lines clearer.
"He'll like mine more. It's a superhero," Seth grabs for a different colour.
I keep encouraging them to chat, loving the sound of their British accents. They ask me about America, my family and my favourite things. Animals, colours and foods are all learned. I memorise theirs for later. I don't even notice Watson leave.
"My favourite thing is soccer," Seth smiles up at me.
"You play soccer?" I ask.
"No. Ma won't let me play because it's dangerous," he pokes his cheek with the back of his pencil, resting his head on his knuckles.
"Oh," I bite my lip, "that's too bad. It can be."
I don't know how to not undermine his mother. How could she deny her child something as fun as a sport. Even I took a dance class. Was she raising children or soldiers?
"Gymnastics too," Lucy says, "the leg can break."
"Oh," I smile down at her, "I did that once. But it wasn't because of gymnastics. I hurt it riding my bike. You can get hurt doing most things."
"Miss Swan," Seth begins to ask something but loses his train of thought, "like a duck?"
I burst out laughing, throwing my head back as Anna bounces on my knee happily. Lucy giggles along with me.
"She isn't a duck, silly," Lucy rolls her adorable eyes at her brother.
"But it's like the swan," I say, "You are the sweetest, little Mr Seth Cullen. Are you guys finished with your pictures? Perhaps you could give them to your daddy tomorrow? It's late and I think you guys should get ready to have some dinner and bed. Do you guys know your bedtime?"
"Like 2," Seth shrugs.
Squealing in delight Anna sucks on her hands, cooing at her brother. Oh, they're beautiful. My heart feels so full that they're sweet and kind. That they'd been raised right despite their vacant parents.
"Okay, then I have plenty of time. What do you guys eat?" I ask.
"Pasta," Lucy gasps.
"Okay I can make that happen," I say, "I don't know where the kitchen is can you show me?"
"Oh I can," Seth jumps up, holding onto his picture, "follow me."
He runs round to take my hand, barely waiting for me to stand before starting to pull.
"Our chef cooks all of our food but you can ask her to have a go," Lucy says.
"You have a chef?" I ask, shocked.
Watson was right. We needed more than Jesus.
"She isn't very good," Seth whispers up to me.
As we walk I carry Anna on one hip holding onto his hand. They lead me down the grand stairs and through an archway until we're in a giant, white kitchen. The countertops are spotless. It looks as if it's never been cooked in.
"Chef has gone home, Bella. The children eat usually around 6 but she had a matter she needed to attend to," Watson looks apologetic but still slightly bored, "their bedtime is 7:30."
"Well, luckily I am capable. Would you like to help me?" I ask the twins.
They look confused.
"Miss Swan. We're not allowed to," Lucy says.
Watson smirks at me with a wink.
"I shall run a bath," he smiles at the twins, "let them get their hands a little messy. Mrs Cullen has left for the night for an event. They're not allergic to anything so go for it."
"Then that's that. Rules were made to be broken," I say to Lucy, "you know what, you can even call me Bella. Sit up at the counter and you can help me make some pasta. My mother made the yummiest bolognese and it's delicious."
As I sit Anna in a high chair and pull her close to join the fun I realise just how over their mother I already am. I thank the lucky stars I had a mother who let me get dirty.
"Roll up your sleeves, Lucy and Seth. It's your job to tell me where things are and answer all of my questions," I smile at them both.
Their little hands rest on the counter watching me curious. Their pictures sat still beside them, mine in a little collection with Lucy's. They were adorable and I had no clue why Watson had called them difficult.
"We're kids. We know nothing about cooking," Lucy holds her hands up in the air.
"Neither do I," I shrug, "You just guess."
Pulling open a draw I find a wooden spoon.
"Okay Seth, you are on mixing duty today. Lucy you will help make the sauce," I hand the spoon to Seth, "stop looking like you're going to get in trouble. If your mother or father comes in screaming you can blame me."
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