The Gilded Cage - Finding My Place

The American Dream

Despite the ungodly hour, our disgustingly early morning arrival in Los Angeles was hardly unobtrusive. I was wearing a simple summer dress, calf-length and suitably modest, which did not stand out, but I was pushing Caris in her pushchair from the gate, whilst dear Bella walked regally beside us in her voluminous gown and cloak, so we attracted quite a few incredulous looks as we progressed through immigration and customs. But no one knew why we were all there so far, and I was actually quite relieved about that in the circumstances, really. Because I was expecting there to be a lot of media interest in the fate of the Bethlehem Sisters as soon as the news about Mr Durante broke, and I was nervous about that. Mr Brewster had managed to keep it all out of the news, thus far, because the famous FBI were continuing their investigations and did not want press speculation to queer their pitch, apparently, and that seemed to have allowed us to enter America, at least, under the radar. The girls were really big news in Britain too, but I suspected that they were much bigger in the United States, and I was a little fearful about being caught up in the middle of a worldwide media furore. I must admit that I had my personal concerns about Mr Benjamin Brewster's intentions with his granddaughters. I was not at all sure that forcibly converting them was the right thing to do, in the circumstances, even without the real possibility of really negative publicity. But I was being paid to do a job, and trusted to do it well, and that was what I decided to concentrate on, whilst also recognising that the three girls would need looking after by someone. If their birth father was in serious trouble with the law, and I had to admit that getting arrested by the FBI sounded quite serious enough to me, they were effectively alone in the world, and needed someone to look after them. If Mr Brewster did not take them on, I had no idea what would happen to them in America. And I also knew that when we got them back to Meadvale, they would end up in the safe hands of Helen Montague, if Mr Brewster was awarded custody, which could only be good for them in the long run, in God's love. Becoming nurslings might not be their choice, but with Helen, I knew that they would be loved and safe. So, I girded my loins as it were, and prepared to do my best for everyone.

Mr Brewster had sent a car to collect us, and I got the girls in, all of us in fine fettle, thanks to sleeping reasonably well on the flight in the end, and we were whisked away to a magnificent house in what our driver informed us was Beverley Hills. It had electric gates, and very high walls, and it was absolutely huge. There was a swimming pool, palm trees and some very large cars parked outside. I was used to big houses, in Kensington and Meadvale, and Mr Montague was not poor by any means of course, but the Hollywood mansion was undoubtedly impressive on a different scale entirely. I got Caris out, as the driver hauled our luggage out of the trunk for us, leaving Bella to slide out of her door, hampered by her gown but controlling it well, and stood up, with Caris just clinging to my side, to be greeted by a young woman, probably not that much older than me, I thought, maybe mid-twenties, wearing sunglasses, white jeans and a leopard skin blouse.

"You're the nanny, right? But who the fuck are these freaks? I already told Brewster that we have instructions from the studio, so you are going to be unemployed...but you can stay in one of the guest cottages until they arrange a flight for you..." She began, talking fast and not really bothering to check if I was following her or not, and I must admit that I lost my temper. I am a calm person, in normal circumstances. Working with children, it is important to be cool and to maintain at least an illusion of serenity, even when the little ones are throwing tantrums, but I did not even know who the woman was, and I did not appreciate her language in front of Caris and Bella. Her obvious disdain for me, and her arrogance, instantly riled me.

"Kindly moderate your language in front of the children," I huffed as I straightened up to my full height, in two-inch heels, and treated her to a look of what I hoped was icy contempt mixed with disapproval and dismay. "I have no idea who you are, but I am here to take care of the Durante girls...acting on the explicit instructions from Mr Benjamin Brewster, who has been awarded temporary legal custody of Faith, Hope and Charity Bethlehem...as I believe they are known here? So, I will be staying in the main house, with the children, and you...whoever you are...will stay out of my way!"