Neighbourhood Watch / Nanny Spying

I took a friend for a tram ride to St Kilda Beach a few weeks ago. We didn’t take the usual #16. Instead, we took the #112. This tram goes past a dreamy bayside suburb where I used to work. I worked for this family for three and a half years and two and a half of those years were spent in this suburb.

I was chatting happily to my friend on the tram when it paused at the stop where I used to get off. I noticed that an old lady was trying to get on and kept on talking. To my bad luck, the lady was the nosy neighbour of the family that I worked for. The tram was pretty empty and as she walked to a seat near us, she gave the two of us a long hard stare. I thought that she didn’t recognise me because it has been quite a few years since I have seen her. Unfortunately she did! After sitting down, she turned around to stare at me again and made a face like the way she used to whenever she saw me with the kids. She didn’t say a thing, but I didn’t expect a conversation because to people like her, I am just a lowly nanny. I thank God that she didn’t start ranting at me like the way she used to.

My friend is not a local. She was visiting Melbourne and was very curious to know why we were getting the stares. I explained everything to her after getting off the tram.

So, who is this lady? Why was she so ‘unhappy’ to see me? This old lady lives in a nicely refurbished house across from the family that I used to work for way back in the last century. (1990s) She really wasn’t that old, as I think that when the family first moved into this dreamy suburb, she was probably only in her early to mid 60’s. The funny thing is that I actually recognised her the first time when I saw her sweeping the front of her house. I even told the kids’ mum that this neighbour used to work at Flinders St Station. The kids’ mum was surprised that I already knew this fact. As a teenager I used to use the trains and at times needed directions. This old lady used to work in a booth offering information and maps. She was not even friendly then.

A couple of months after I started working in this suburb, I noticed a pattern. Every time I took Mathilde out for a walk to the beach or the playgrounds, she would be there. At the time, I had only Mathilde to look after as the other two children weren’t born yet. One may think that I was being paranoid. Mathilde’s front yard is walled in. I would take her to the front yard to play while I got the pram ready. She would stand near her little gate, staring at us as we walked past. One may urge me to give the lady a fair go because she probably would have liked to befriend me. Nah! Sorry, No! She never used to open her mouth at first, just plenty of stares. I have met many friendly older people who live close to the people that I have worked for. They either give me eye contact when they speak to me or they would just simply keep to themselves.

Just before Amelia was born, this neighbour took to writing on a note pad every time she saw me. It was beginning to make me feel extremely uncomfortable. I spoke to the mum and she said that I was taking things too seriously. A few weeks after Amelia was born, the old lady began to talk at me. Yes! Talk at me. She would order me not to drop the baby even though the baby was safely sleeping in the pram. She would threaten to tell the mum that the baby had been crying and she would enquire harshly if I had any children of my own, to be looking after other people’s kids. These questions were not meant to be answered. She would just walk away after mouthing them. I kept on working and chose to ignore her.

Up until the birth of Elliot, I was let into the house each day by the mum or the dad. I had the use of the house keys during the day but I was adamant that I did not want to be given keys to take home. Readers who are wary of nannies may agree that one should never trust a nanny to have her own key to the property. Mind you, I have worked for people who gladly have a new set of keys cut just for me. I used to decline them then and still decline them now. Except for when Elliot was born. His mum decided that I must take the key to let myself in. She didn’t like me to wait outside the wall as there is no shelter from the rain or sun. She wanted me to let myself in on some mornings when she had already gone out (e.g. to the doctors) and was not home in time to let me in. I gave in because she was pretty cranky after Elliot’s birth.

This key thing was a bad idea. One morning, I received a phone call from the mum telling me that she would be late and I should let myself in with the key. Reluctantly, I did as I was told. Within a minute after gaining entry into the house, the door bell rang and I went outside to have a look. I thought the mum must have parked her 4WD outside and didn’t bother to drive into the driveway (because the gate was faulty at times) and I was required to help her carry either Amelia or Elliot. I peeped through the gap along the side of the side door and to my horror, I saw the old lady from across the road standing on the other side of the door. I opened the door and before I greeted her, she enquired angrily, “What do you think you are doing? How dare you let yourself in? I am going to call the police.” Her left hand was clutching what looked like a cordless home phone (not a mobile phone, unless it was a mighty chunky one). Her husband was standing in front of their gate yelling at her to ask me to explain myself before calling the police. The kerfuffle alerted the attention of a few other neighbours on the street. I was standing there speechless. I didn’t feel any anger until later. The mum and her two tots (Mathilde was at the Kindergarten) came home just in time. She saw me standing in front of the opened side door and people in front of the house. She didn’t look happy. She asked me what the matter was and before I could answer the old lady began to tell the mum of how she saw me break into the house with a key. The mum was also told that she should not have ever trusted someone like me to look after her kids. The mum mumbled and asked, “Do you mind to not talk about her right now? She is standing right over there.” The old lady gave me a frosty look. The mum greeted the other neighbours as they began to go back to their own business. The tots began to cry. I was requested to unbuckle Amelia to take her into the house. On my way in, I overheard the mum telling the old lady that I was given my own key but I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation.

I became very angry on the way home that night. I was angry at myself for taking the offer of the key. I was angry because I was accused of breaking in. I began to seriously doubt the family for the first time. Was this a nosy neighbour? Did the family request for her help to spy on me? Was the mum suggesting a chat later when she asked the old lady, “Do you mind to not talk about her right now?” The mum went about the rest of the day without really addressing the incident. At the end of the day, she told me not to take the lady seriously. She did make a comment one day on the importance of having good neighbours for the security of the whole neighbourhood. So, were they all worried about my presence?

In the months after the third child was born, my relationship with the children’s mother crumbled. It was a difficult time to work because I was getting pressure inside as well as outside the house. I will describe what happened in the home in another post later. It took me a while to come to the realisation that I needed a break. I gave them a month’s notice and left soon after they found a nanny. The family offered to re-hire me but I declined each time. In the two years after I left, they called every time when they were in between nannies. She kept telling me that the kids missed me. I enjoy looking after Mathilde and Amelia but sadly, I didn’t get to spend much time with Elliot. He was still a young baby when I left.