Obsession

Chapter 5 - Education

It's not just books we learn from

self-respect starts to hum

It feels like a lifetime has passed since that first escapade of going outside happened. Rosa blinked and her eyes watered at the outside air, it looked like she was crying again. I suppose her eyes never had to cope with sunlight before, this was there first time. Warm or not her pale skin will have to be covered in something until her body adjusts to this new environment. At first, Rosa could only endure a few minutes at a time but gradually this was increased.

Now Rosa and Molly live for their outside time, and they have both blossomed because of it. Our wardrobes have also grown due to the inclement weather. Transparent raincoats and wellington boots were now necessary pieces of clothing. Rosa wanted to be outside whatever the weather. One day the rain caught us unawares our sweaters stuck to our bodies soaking and chilly and our shoes squeaked when we moved. Rosa laughed in unison with each squeak, I began to like the rain.

Rosa has a new colour in her cheeks and a freckly nose; I am convinced she has grown an inch or two. Her hair has also grown back and I do not know if it is because of some vitamin she is now getting or whether all that time she was doing it to herself. Perhaps the new mental stimuli from Molly and outside are having benefits that cannot be quantified or known. She waves at her upstairs window now and again, which is always disconcerting. I have long since stopped mentioning it she will surely grow out of it in time.

My next job with Sir is Rosa's education. I need not even think of suggesting she go to school like normal kids of six. Maybe if it is put to him that a teacher come and home school, there is intelligence in those eyes that needs to be nurtured. She gets more inquisitive and bored day by day. Her little patch of grass will not keep her happy for long. She already wants to know what is beyond the fence, always bombarding with a constant flow of questions, I try to answer to the best of my limited ability.

All of which is a sure sign of a want and need to learn therefore should not be vetoed. It would be worse if she were not pushing her boundaries. How does the big tree that is poking over it grow? In addition, how did it get there?

I have already asked Sir if she can plant some seedlings or herbs something useful to do while outdoors. I will appeal to his aim of us being able to live out of the house as much as possible without contact with the outside world. Talk of self-sufficiency is bound to win him over, I hope. I am working on him to try to get him to increase our available space. Herbs such as Chives, Parsley, and Sage while keeping Rosa occupied, have an extra purpose and will be able to be stocked in the kitchen for seasoning. He knows she loves her bright colours so some Roses and Dahlias would be pleasing to her eye. She took a pencil down the other day and holding it up to Molly twisting and counting her size she is at one and a half pencils, she informed me proudly. I showed her how to stand Molly at the fence and mark the pencil on the wall to measure her height at that time, and she's fascinated when the line moves even a tiny bit. I am sure she would get the same enjoyment as the flowers grew. Standing her against it and marking her height her little face scrunched with the desire that I say it has moved even the tiniest bit. Her confidence is growing along with her stature. Sir is even pleased with the changes, as long as she is quiet but happy, he is contented these days.

I spoke too soon he is over-reacting now, just like the old days, merely broaching the subject of schooling and a verbal explosion ensues. He turns the air blue, purple and yellow, bruises it with his choice language. Eventually, when he can speak above his rage, he tells me under no circumstances will some stranger come into his house and home school his beloved daughter. He tortured with accusations for over three hours about whom I had been talking with. Whom I had mentioned Rosalind to, and when? Finally getting him to believe that this was my own idea, and not something I had asked about elsewhere. When he calmed down and stopped hyperventilating, he promised to take extra time of work. He would give her lessons himself while he is here, fine with me he did not make his money by not being clever in some way. Although he brought with him a lot of negative energy, it was still good at times to know that there was another adult in the house, responsibility can be a heavy weight.

He has also promised me a rise to show his gratitude at how well I look after Rosalind. He does not realize that money, although a viable reason is not the predominant urge for staying here. I stay here for Rosa, to protect her from his overzealous protection. He says to leave it with him and he will come up with something. I am not holding my breath.

Three weeks go by, and there is no mention of lessons, but he has been spending more time on his own with her. Already I have noticed her reading and maths have greatly improved. He calls me into the drawing room and says he has a suggestion. Eyeing me with interest, he informs me proudly that his fortune has already been made, and that he only works to keep himself and others around him sane.

He says he will take time off work, a lot of it if I agree to go to teacher's college to get the necessary skills to home school Rosalind, and that my extra skills will reflect favourably in my pay packet.

He says he has been remiss that he should have done this a long time ago. He also states that I will need a new wardrobe. Had I any preference? Without taking a breath, I blurt out "Claire McCardell," I had admired her work for years and to own anything she designed would be heaven for me. He laughs loudly, a rare sound. "Nanny, I think that's the quickest you've ever answered me. I'll get on it, it will be sorted." For a moment I am elated, how wonderful, a great idea and a new wardrobe then it dawns on me, fearfully, that Rosa will be on her own with him. In this massive house, alone, subject to his tenuous grip on sanity, for long periods. I do not think either of them could cope although they may fare better than I may. I am a worrywart at the best of times, that's for sure.

"Well, Nanny, come on out with it what do you think?"

Puffed up, inflated with pride at his own brilliance, I know progress has been made. He would never have considered me doing anything concerning his beloved Rosalind, outside of the house before, no matter what had happened.

"Well, while, I think it's a great idea, Sir, Rosalind may fret if I am away for long periods of time and you know that sometimes she's a handful." I am wringing my hands; I hate that trait of mine and hurriedly put them behind my back. Sister Concepta used to tie them there when she caught me doing it, but it is a lingering habit.

"You let me worry about that, she is my daughter after all."

Oh, rest assured Sir, I know you will never let me forget that.

Then another thought hits and terrifies me, to ask but sometimes, no matter how afraid, if something matters, it has to be asked.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Nanny."

"Who shall I say I'm doing these classes for, I have no children of my own?"

"You're doing it for your own betterment, career progression, you're extremely clever Nanny, I have no fear, you'll think of something."

"Okay, but what about if I tell people a long lost relation has died and supposing their little girl is orphaned and you have kindly taken them under their wing, out of the goodness of your heart. Would that work do you think? Good idea or not Sir?"

"Are you suggesting my beautiful, cherished, privileged daughter is paraded about as a relation of yours, Nanny?"

He raises himself to his full, menacing, to me anyway height and spittle hits me in the eye. One of his now famous temper tantrums, forever imprinted on my soul, is right now in full flow. It has been brewing on the horizon for weeks we will suffer somehow for this.

"Sir, you know that everything I do is for the good of you and Rosalind. I love her as if she was my own you must see that."

He strikes hard, very hard I am stunned into silence. The thought of his daughter getting freedom or any semblance of normality has obviously pushed him too far.

"What I know Nanny is that child, that precious light of my life, had a beautiful mother, nobody can replace her, ever. Do you understand Nanny? Get out of my sight this minute or I won't be responsible for my actions."

I run out in floods of tears, but self-pity will get me nowhere, and I cannot let Rosa see me like this. There is enough confusion in her young life already, without me adding to the situation. However, one thing I have decided and it is ironclad in my mind that is the last time he hits me.