Almost Gone

Jess laughed. “Well, that’s just marketing. Other people told me differently.”

“What happened to you?” Cassie asked. “Please tell me.”

“Well, the assignment sounded OK, although some of Maureen’s interview questions worried me. They were so weird that I started wondering if there were problems with the family, because none of my au pair friends were asked similar questions during their interview. And when I arrived—well, the situation wasn’t as advertised.”

“Why not?” Cassie felt cold inside. She’d found Maureen’s questioning strange, too. She’d assumed at the time that every applicant was asked the same questions; that it was a test of your abilities. And maybe it was… but not for the reasons she’d imagined.

“The family was super-toxic,” Jess said. “They were disrespectful and demeaning. The work I had to do was way outside of the scope of my job; they didn’t care and refused to change. And when I said I was leaving—that was when it really became a war zone.”

Cassie bit her lip. She’d had that experience growing up. She remembered raised voices behind closed doors, muttered arguments in the car, a tightrope sense of tension. She had always wondered what her mother—so quiet, subdued, beaten down—could possibly have found to argue about with her bombastic, aggressive father. It had only been after her mother’s death in a car crash that she’d realized the arguments were all about keeping the peace, managing the situation, protecting Cassie and her sister from the aggression that flared unpredictably, and for no good reason. Without her mother’s presence, the simmering conflict had boiled over into full-blown war.

She’d imagined one of the benefits of being an au pair would be that she could become part of the happy family she’d never had. Now she feared the opposite would be true. She’d never been able to keep the peace at home. Could she ever manage a volatile situation the same way her mother had done?

“I’m worried about my family,” Cassie confessed. “I also had odd questions during the interview, and their previous au pair left early. What will happen if I have to do the same? I don’t want to stay around if things are going to turn nasty.”

“Don’t leave unless it’s an emergency,” Jess warned. “It causes massive conflict, and you hemorrhage money; you’ll be liable for a lot of additional expenses. That nearly put me off trying again. I was very cautious about accepting this assignment. I wouldn’t have been able to afford it if my dad hadn’t paid for everything this time around.”

She put her wine glass down.

“Shall we go to the gate? We’re near the back of the plane, so we’ll be in the first group to board.”

The excitement of boarding the plane distracted Cassie from what Jess had said, and once they were seated, they chatted about other topics. When the plane took off, she felt her spirits lift with it, because she’d done it. She had left the country, she’d escaped Zane, and she was airborne, heading for a new start in a foreign land.

It was only after dinner, when she started thinking harder about the details of her assignment, and the warnings Jess had given her, that her misgivings crept back again.

Every family couldn’t be bad, right?

But what if one particular agency had a reputation for accepting difficult families? Well, then, the chances would be greater.

Cassie tried to read for a while, but found she wasn’t focusing on the words, and her thoughts were racing as she worried about what lay ahead.

She glanced at Jess. After making sure she was engrossed in watching her movie, Cassie discreetly took the bottle of pills from her purse and swallowed one down with the last of her Diet Coke. If she couldn’t read, she might as well try to sleep. She switched off her light and reclined her seat.

*

Cassie found herself in her drafty upstairs bedroom, huddling under her bed with her back against the rough, cold wall.

Drunken laughter, thumps, and shouts came from downstairs; revelry that would, at any moment, turn violent. Her ears strained, waiting for the smashing of glass. She recognized her father’s voice and that of his latest girlfriend, Deena. There were at least four others down there, maybe more.

And then, over the shouts, she heard the creak of the floorboards as heavy footsteps climbed the stairs.

“Hey, little honey,” a deep voice whispered, and her twelve-year-old self cringed in terror. “Are you there, girlie?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself this was just a nightmare, that she was safe in bed and the strangers downstairs were getting ready to leave.

The door creaked slowly open and in the spill of moonlight, she saw a heavy boot appear.

The feet trod across the room.

“Hey, girlie.” A husky whisper. “I’ve come to say hello.”

She closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t hear her rapid breathing.

The whisper of fabric as he pulled the covers back… and then the grunt of surprise as he saw the pillow and coat that she’d bundled underneath.

“Out and about,” he’d muttered. She guessed he was looking at the grimy curtains billowing in the breeze, the drainpipe hinting at a precarious escape route. Next time, she would find the courage to climb down; it couldn’t be worse than hiding here.

The boots retreated out of her vision. A burst of music came from below, followed by a shouted argument.

The room was quiet.

She was shivering; if she was going to spend the night hiding, she needed a blanket. She’d better get it now. She eased herself away from the wall.

But as she slid her hand out, a rough hand grabbed it.

“So there you are!”

He yanked her out—she clutched at the bed frame, cold steel scraping her hands, and began to scream. Her terrified cries filled the room, filled the house …

And she woke, sweating, screaming, hearing Jess’s worried voice. “Hey, Cassie, are you OK?”

The tendrils of the nightmare still lurked, waiting to draw her back in. She could feel the raw grazes on her arm where the rusty bed frame had cut her. She pressed her fingers there and was relieved to find unbroken skin. Opening her eyes wide, she switched on the overhead light to chase the darkness away.

“I’m fine. Bad dream, that’s all.”

“Do you want some water? Some tea? I can call the flight attendant.”

Cassie was going to refuse politely, but then she remembered she should take her meds again. If one tablet didn’t work, two would usually stop the nightmares from recurring.

“I’d love some water. Thank you,” she said.

She waited until Jess wasn’t looking and quickly swallowed another pill.

She didn’t try to sleep again.

During the plane’s descent, she swapped phone numbers with Jess—and just in case, she took down the name of the family Jess would be working for, and their address. Cassie told herself it was like an insurance policy, that hopefully if she had it, she wouldn’t need it. They promised each other that the first chance they got, they would tour Versailles Palace together.

As they taxied into Charles de Gaulle Airport, Jess gave an excited laugh. Quickly, she showed Cassie the selfie her family had taken for her while waiting. The attractive couple and two children were smiling, holding a board with Jess’s name on it.

Cassie had received no message—Maureen had just said she would be met at the airport. The walk to passport control seemed endless. She was surrounded by the babble of conversations in a host of different languages. Tuning in to the couple walking alongside her, she realized how little spoken French she was able to understand. Reality was so different from the school classes and language tapes. She felt scared, alone, and sleep deprived, and she was suddenly aware of how crumpled and sweaty her clothes were, compared to the elegantly clad French travelers around her.

As soon as she had her bags, she hurried to the restroom, put on a fresh top, and fixed her hair. She still didn’t feel ready to meet her family and had no idea who would be waiting. Maureen had told her the house was over an hour’s drive from the airport, so perhaps the children hadn’t come along. She shouldn’t look out for a big family. Any friendly face would do.

But in the sea of people watching her, she saw no recognition, even though she’d placed her “Maureen’s Au Pairs” backpack prominently on the luggage cart. She walked slowly from the gate to the arrivals lounge, looking anxiously for someone to spot her, wave, or call out.

But everyone there seemed to be waiting for someone else.

Grasping the cart’s handle with cold hands, Cassie zigzagged around the arrivals hall, searching in vain as the crowds gradually dispersed. Maureen hadn’t said what to do if this happened. Should she call someone? Would her phone even work in France?