Fridays and Saturdays were my least favourite days of the week. The Friday morning always started out well but then it got worse throughout the day. By lunchtime, I usually had enough homework to last me another week! That wasn’t the worst part though. At the end of the day, I had to walk to the train station, catch the 5:05 train to Castle Hill and get the bus to my employer’s house. I stayed there until the next night, enduring an earful of screaming and wailing, struggling to get the little ones in bed and get at least a few pages of study done. When my employer finally arrived, I was free to leave! But every time, I was left emotionally and physically scarred from my job. It felt like their lives were my lives and I had to be a part of it. That’s right. I was a babysitter, and I’d gotten so attached to my exhausting duties that I couldn’t leave them.
It was just another Friday afternoon at the train station. Hurriedly, I ran onto the bus and got a seat right at the front. School was tiring and I couldn’t get my legs to move any further. After a couple of minutes, the bus left me at the front of Joshua’s house. Yeah, he let me call him Joshua because he honestly was only four years older than I am. He told me it would be awkward and wrong for me to call him Mr Fitzgerald, even if he was the man who had employed me as a nanny for his six children. When I first responded to his ad in the newspaper, I was shocked to hear that he was only 23 years old. How did a man like him come to have six children at his age? Well, as he mentioned the moment I asked, his wife had six children from her three previous marriages. Joshua was her fourth wife. None of the children were his
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