Normally Nanny was one of the first to arrive. I’d often spot her from quite a way off as I recognised the way she walked. I’d jump up and down and wave, and when she managed to pick me out from all the other children, she’d wave back. We had a ritual in which once she reached the diamond-wire fence I’d run up to her and she’d bend down positioning her cheek for a kiss through the wire. I’d rush out through the school gate and thrust a painting or maybe a glitter-studded egg box at her. No matter how awful my offerings, Nanny always lavished praise on my artistic talents before reaching into her pocket and producing a little packet of my favourite Love Hearts sweeties.
Then one day I was waiting in the playground as usual, but Nanny didn’t appear. I looked down the road but couldn’t see her. Gradually the playground cleared of all the other boys and girls until there was only me and Mrs Paterson left. She stood shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered down the empty road.
‘Oh dear, Lisa, Nan’s a bit late today. Never mind. Come back inside and look at a book until she gets here.’
I sat on the blue square carpet in the reading corner, my legs crossed in front of me. The bright sun streamed in through the window, burning the top of my head. I shuffled over a bit into the shade, but found myself sitting in front of a huge cast-iron radiator which scorched my back through my coat. I was hot and hungry. Where was Nanny? Why hadn’t she come?
I shrugged off my yellow plastic raincoat and pulled a book from the shelf in front of me. Mrs Paterson sat at the other end of the classroom with a paperback in one hand, a sandwich in the other. Her eyes remained firmly on her book and I wondered if she had forgotten about me. After a while the door opened. My heart lifted for a moment, but sank with my spirits when I saw it was only another teacher bringing a cup of tea for Mrs Paterson. They murmured together and the other teacher, someone I didn’t recognise, looked over and said, ‘Don’t worry, love.’
I could hear the sound of the older children playing outside in the Junior playground. Some girls were playing a skipping game, the rope whacking the ground in regular beats as they sang about apples and pears. There was stinging behind my eyes, and soon the picture book on my lap was speckled with tear drops. I gave a loud sniff and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my jumper. Mrs Paterson turned to me. ‘Don’t worry, Lisa. It’s all under control.’ I didn’t know what she meant.
The bell rang to start lunchtime lessons. I had been waiting for over an hour but it felt like days. I needed to use the loo, but didn’t want to risk going in case I missed Nanny when she finally arrived. It was at times like this I needed my dummy and picky bit the most. Just when I felt a fresh wave of tears threatening to flow, Uncle Jimmy bustled in through the classroom door. A lady I recognised from the school office was with him. He looked out of breath and red in the face, as if he’d been running. He spoke to Mrs Paterson for a few minutes, both their faces very glum. I couldn’t hear everything they were saying but at one point Mrs Paterson raised her eyebrows and said, ‘Hospital?’ Uncle Jimmy nodded and then shrugged his shoulders. I was still sitting on the carpet in the reading corner. I saw Mrs Paterson point over to me and Uncle Jimmy caught my eye and said ‘Get your coat on, Lisa.’
I did as I was told, feeling more and more confused. Uncle Jimmy had never picked me up before. As Nanny had taught me, I clasped each of my sleeves with the tips of my fingers so they wouldn’t bunch up, and slipped my arms into my coat. Outside Uncle Jimmy took my hand in his own, rough and scratchy from working on building sites, and led me off towards home. ‘Where’s Nanny gone?’ I asked, but he didn’t say anything, just kept striding on, his steel-capped boots tapping on the pavement with each step.
Later, I found out Nanny had been rushed to hospital after a fall. My aunts Jenny and Freda took me to visit her after dinner. Nanny looked her usual self, lying on a bed. I knew she had fresh bandages on her legs because they were bright white, not like the old yellow ones she had at home. I noticed she had a tube going into her arm and water was dripping into it from a bag hooked up beside her bed. It made it hard for her to give me a cuddle, but Freda lifted me up and I sat on the edge of the bed and began picking the blanket, running the wool through my fingers. Nanny stroked my hair for a minute and said sorry she hadn’t been able to collect me from school but she was nearly better now and soon we’d be able to get back to normal.
‘No, Mum,’ said Freda. ‘It’s too much for you running up and down after a kid all day. The doctor reckons you need rest.’
‘I’ll talk to Donna,’ said Jenny. ‘It’s about time she started taking responsibility. After all, she is her mother.’
Nanny stayed in hospital that night, and Jenny, Freda and Jimmy had a bit of an argument about who had time to take me to nursery in the morning. In the end, it was decided that Uncle Jimmy would do it. ‘But I better not miss me bus,’ he said, exhaling a big smoky cloud as he spoke.
It was dark when we set off the next morning and Uncle Jimmy kept snapping at me to keep up, while looking at his watch and muttering rude words under his breath. When we arrived the main school gate was padlocked shut. We were too early.
‘Gordon Bennett!’ he cried, smacking his hands on top of his head and pulling at his wiry black hair. ‘What am I meant to do now? I’m definitely gonna miss me bleedin’ bus!’ He started rattling the gates and shouting ‘Oi, Oi!’ at the top of his voice. ‘They’re in there. Look–I can see ’em drinking bloody tea. Oi! Oi!’
I could just about make out Mrs Paterson and another teacher moving around in the classroom. The windows were brightly lit against the dark drizzly morning and I could see their shapes through the frosted glass. They were totally oblivious to Uncle Jimmy, who continued shouting and waving as he desperately tried to get their attention. Suddenly he stopped as if a thought had occurred to him. He began to smile as he examined the padlock. I watched as he dug deep into one pocket and then the other, his smile momentarily fading until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small metal pin, which he wiggled in the lock, saying ‘This should do it.’ After a moment or two, the padlock clicked open, and Uncle Jimmy let out a roar of triumphant laughter.
I laughed too, pleased to see him happy. ‘Is that magic?’ I asked.
‘You could say that,’ he chuckled, ushering me through the gate. He watched me walk halfway across the playground and then called after me, ‘And tell them two deaf-aids in there to wash their bleedin’ ears out.’ With a final wave he sprinted off round the corner to catch his bus.
As I entered the classroom, I made Mrs Paterson jump in surprise and she dropped a pot of pencils. ‘Lisa!’ she cried. ‘How on earth did you get through a locked gate?’
‘My uncle let me in,’ I replied, hanging my coat on a peg as my face burned bright red. Drawing on all my three-and-a-half-year-old’s wisdom, I decided not to mention the ear-cleaning business.
When I was four, my life changed drastically. Nanny’s painfully ulcerated legs and deteriorating health meant she was housebound for much of the time. On good days, she could still get out to the local shops and do the cooking and cleaning she enjoyed so much, but she was totally ill-equipped to keep up with the energetic needs of a young child. So