Could I be nanny to an English gentleman to be?

Esme Gordon-Craig

I’ve recently discovered a new job that seems to fit with what I’m looking for, and by what I’m looking for I mean, it pays £180k, and by discovered, I mean my mother sent me a link to the article with the message saying, ‘You need to apply for this – just think of the money’. You may be wondering what this high paid role my mother believes me to be qualified for is, evidently its not finance or law (bit far from my capabilities) and thankfully it has nothing to do with selling parts of my body or becoming a human lab rat. No, the job in question is a nanny, or more accurately a tutor, for a one-year-old boy in North London whose parents have one wish: for their child to grow up as an English gentleman.

Unlike most jobs where I end up giving up applying based on their ‘requirements’ section, I believe I could quite possibly design an almost ideal application for this job – emphasis on the almost. Although, I most defiantly couldn’t call my family ‘socially appropriate’ – this is an obligation, but I’ll skip over that like I do most other bullet points in the requirement section, I am, however, university educated from one of the best universities in Britain. Yes, they’re probably looking for Oxford or Cambridge, but, seeing as they’re all on their way to jobs in law, medicine, or even a more financially fruitful writing career, I’d say I’m pretty safe with putting the University of St. Andrews – plus Prince William went there, the real pinnacle of an English gentleman.

So, I’ve got the degree they want, the next thing is whether or not I am ‘quintessentially British’. Well, this depends, I’ve never been in the company of royalty and I’m yet to make it to Wimbledon but, I’m optimistic that there’s more to being quintessentially British than just ticking a few boxes by being invited into a few.

Now we’re entering the very dangerous territory of how you define being British, territory that not even politicians enjoy entering, despite trying. But here goes my attempt at demonstrating my Britishness, feel free to disagree, although that wouldn’t be very British of you. I have a dog which I prefer to all four of my sisters, I drink tea in whatever the situation but mostly when I need something to do with my hands because I’m socially awkward and also it might not yet be time to have a gin and tonic. My biggest weakness is shortbread. I’m obsessed with The Traitors but have to watch it the day after because a 9pm start is just too late for my 10pm bedtime – while this means The Daily Mail spoils it for me every week, I refuse to miss out on whatever argument or cake Megan has cooked up, so I accept the spoilers and move on with my day.. What else? I have a lot of issues but choose to be polite and keep them to myself. This is up until I explode in unexplained rage, subsequently leading to a compassionate cup of tea from one of the four sisters when all I actually want is to be left alone with the dog. Also, I’m extremely passionate about which box of Christmas chocolates should be deemed the best – no debate it’s got to be Celebrations, although, saying this, Heroes have just received a much appreciated rebrand involving the swapping of the Eclair for the Twirl!

Unfortunately, despite believing I can one hundred percent prove my own Britishness, I’m yet to understand what it takes to be a true English gentleman, which I guess is the whole point of the job. I’ve come across many who most certainly think they are one, but I really don’t intend to start raising a one-year-old to replicate these figures who I’ve had the displeasure of meeting. If I were to imagine the ideal English gentlemen in my mind, someone like Hugh Grant’s character from Notting Hill would appear. Someone kind, compassionate, and humble, with a slither of socially awkward tendencies. Sadly, I’m yet to discover whether this gentleman actually exists beyond fiction brought into existence by Richard Curits, so I think I’d struggle at being a successful tutor in said category. Saying this, maybe that’s exactly what I’ll do, get the job and raise the child to be a proper Hollywood version of the English gentleman. When the parents ask me for a references, I’ll give William Thack, home address Notting Hill (the one with the blue door). -