I had completed college and had my qualifications in child care. So now I just needed a job that utilised the qualifications that I had in order to get experience. I knew that jobs would be hard to find, but I kept persevering and looking, and then I found one that seemed ideal. A couple in Shipley were looking for an au pair to live in and look after their eight-month-old baby boy. One day off a week, on a Sunday, but the rest of the time is pretty much twenty-four by seven childcare.

I rang them and explained my position, and the woman, Marianne, asked me to go across that afternoon, and we could discuss it more. It was two buses to get to Shipley, but the connections were okay, and it only took just over an hour, not too bad. The address was a really big old house near the centre, Victorian perhaps, but certainly big, and it looked three storeys, perhaps four if they had a basement.

I knocked on the door, and a woman, perhaps thirty, answered.

“Mica?” she asked.

“Yes, Marianne? I am here to see about the au pair position.”

“Yes, of course you are. Come in.”

I followed her into the hallway and then through to a huge kitchen which overlooked a beautifully landscaped garden. I was surprised that they had such a large garden in the centre of the town; I suspected that this was a very valuable property.

She offered me a glass of water, which I accepted, and then explained what she expected. She and her husband worked both away and from home; they had high-intensity positions and needed Oliver, their child, to be looked after completely during the week; they could have no interruptions. I would feed and clothe and entertain Oliver from Sunday night until the following Saturday night. I then had a day to myself.

Occasionally they may ask me to do the Sunday as well, but that would be rare and would only be as work dictated. We would have the third floor to ourselves; it had a nursery for Oliver, a kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom for me, a playroom and a lift that I could use to get down to the ground floor in case I wanted to go out with Oliver. We had use of the garden on dry days. There was a full array of necessities, pushchairs, high chairs, cots, etc. She then asked if I could drive, as that would be essential if Oliver needed to go to appointments.

I said I could but that I didn’t have a car. She said that they would sort a small car for my use.

I asked if I could meet Oliver, and we went up in the lift to the third floor.

“This is my niece, Leah; she is staying to help look after Oliver until we can find a suitable au pair cum nanny.”

I said hello to Leah, who, to be honest, looked just like a younger version of Marianne, probably her sister’s daughter, I thought, and around the same age as me by the looks. I took Oliver from her and a bonus; Oliver didn’t immediately burst into tears. He was still a little chubby, as many babies are until they start toddling, something I learned at college, and I sat him on my hip. He was frankly quite a lovely baby, and I walked around the room with him, talking to him, even though I guessed he wouldn’t really understand much.

We, Oliver and me, went back to Marianne. “He’s lovely,” I said and handed him back to Leah, who fussed over him.

“Let’s go back downstairs,” Marianne said. I followed her to the lift, and we went down to the kitchen.

“If I were to offer you the position, when would you be able to start?” Marianne asked.

“Oh, let me see. I would have to arrange with my mum to bring me over; I don’t want to lug my suitcase of clothes on the bus. Probably Sunday early evening. Can I ask about meal arrangements?”

“You will eat with Oliver; we will provide you with food. If you have any food allergies, let us know, and if we provide something that is not to your palate, then let us know. Probably the easiest is if you use an online shopping account for you and Oliver; that way you can get things like nappies and food or Oliver as well.”

“Oh, okay, no problem then. I tend to have Weetabix in the mornings, noodles or similar for lunch, and then evening meals tend to be jacket potatoes, that sort of thing. What food is Oliver on? Is he weaned? I assume he is.”

“No and yes. He has formula, not my milk, and also has jarred baby food; we are cutting down the formula.”

“Okay, that is easy. So yes. If you want me to, I can start on Sunday evening. I will need to give you my bank details so that you can pay me, unless you wanted to do it by cash.”

“The bank will be fine. And yes, Sunday evening please. Say around seven, you can get sorted, and then take over at eight; my husband can then run Leah back home.”

“Sounds good. Are you offering me the position?”

“Yes, Mica, if you want it.”

“Yes please, Oliver is lovely, and it would be a privilege to look after him.”

“Okay, we will see you on Sunday then. Just one thing: what is your clothes size so that we can get your uniform?”

Crumbs, a uniform. “Size ten usually fits, but it does vary from shop to shop.”

Getting back home was not so easy; the connections didn’t tie up, and I was waiting for forty minutes for my second bus. Mum was pleased that I had a job and said that she would take me across on Sunday; I think she wanted to meet the woman I would be working for. When Dad came home, he asked if I had met the father, and I said no, not yet. Sunday I expected, unless he was away.

I spent the next two days deciding what I would be taking. My laptop, mobile, chargers, Kindle, and earbuds were essential, as well as several layers of clothes, but if I were to wear a uniform, then I wouldn’t need that much variety, just loads of knickers and bras, some jeans and a few dresses. If they got me a car, then hopefully I could use it to go out on Sundays and probably go home for Sunday dinner.