An agency run by a young Muscovite landed me a trial in Moscow. And so it came to pass that one September I flew to the city known as ‘the forty forties.’ I was to be the governor to two boys aged 8 and 5.

It was a warm afternoon when I landed in one of the Moscow airports. The man to meet me was a short podgy man in his 30s. His light blue suit was so gopping that it would make a pimp wince. I spoke Russian to this driver.

We stopped off in a supermarket. He had been instructed to purchase foodstuffs for me sufficient for three days. I chose my tucker. We came to the fish section. I said to him ‘’In general I don’t like it.’’

Then he drove me to a housing complex. There were several blocks of flats – all of them about 5 storeys high. There was also a minimarket there. The flats were all a reddish brown colour on the outside.

I was brought into a newish, spacious and sparsely furnished flat. The interior was mostly white. It was on one of the upper floors.

The driver explained that the family already had a British governor. But they were thinking of replacing him. So they had given him a holiday. This was his flat. I was given a Russian phone and told to install myself and await further instructions.

Then the driver was off.

I had a good rummage around the flat and I saw the governor’s clothes and some photos of him. He was white, handsome about 6’4’’, slim and had dark hair. There were some female clothes too in the flat. I did not suspect him of transvestitism. These garments were many sizes too small for him. I deduced that he had a girlfriend. That was super sleuthing on my part.

I had been foolish enough to put my laptop in for repair in London some days before departure. The repair man had still not fixed it and was not answering the phone when I left. So I had gone abroad without a computer. A computer is the source of so much entertainment. It is also the means by which I write. I was therefore bereft without it.

I headed out and explored the area. I went out of the gate of the complex. I turned left and walked up the road towards the supermarket where I had had my foodstuffs bought. I passed a chubby middle aged woman who was blatantly a Filipina. I greeted her in Tagalog, ‘’Komo sta? Mu booty poo.’’

It almost knocked her dead to be addressed in her own language by someone she presumed to be Russian.

For my stroll I turned back and walked down the hill – past the housing complex where I was lodging. There was a nursery down the road. On the corner there was a kebab place run by a chap from Uzbekistan.

I came onto another road. There was a good footpath beside it. I turned left onto it. There were a few trees. I saw large billboards advertising candidates for the local elections later that month.

There were huge gates of the houses of the super-rich. On the far side of the road there was green wilderness. I also saw signs to Archangelskoye Palace. It was a palace I was not to visit for several years but I did not know that then.

I went off into the wilderness. I found a holy well. I saw the Moscow River beyond/.

We were in Glukhova. The toponym relates to the Russian word for deaf ‘’glukhy’’. I wondered about the etymology of this town’s name. Could it have been an asylum for those whose ears were stopped?

At long last duty called. I was told to be ready outside my block of flats. A driver came and picked me up. We drove 5 minutes to the gates of a private housing estate. The usual black uniformed guards were there. There were high wooden walls and the road turned at 90 degree angles. Once inside the estate there were walls on both sides. For any burglar or assassin there would be nowhere to turn off and nowhere to hide. After a couple of right angle turns we came to large luxurious houses. There was plenty of space between the houses.

At last we came to a very large modern house – it was gray and tasteful. It had its own security gate with several guards in the stereotypical black uniforms. This family took security very seriously indeed to go so far as to have their own security gate within a secure compound and their own security guards.

I was ushered into the house. There was a glass conservatory at the entrance. Shoes came off and slippers on – such is the way in all homes in the erstwhile USSR. The floor was tiled.

I met the Russian nanny. She was a middle aged woman who was very slender – her cheeks were almost sunken. She was of middling height and had short black hair feckled with grey. Of course she spoke not a word of English. When I was not engaging her in

We waited in the conservatory until summoned into the house.

As soon as I entered the house proper a reddish brown Rhodesian ridgeback bitch bounded up to me. The hound barked furiously. I am an incurable cynophile but this Cerberus. I was afraid and she lunged at me as if to bite me. It was only with considerable difficulty that the nanny calmed the hellhound down. But for the nanny’s intercession I am sure that the dog would have taken a pound of flesh.

The mother was there. She was a slim blonde woman with a flat affect and faraway mien. Her height was average and she was good looking but her offhand manner was deeply unalluring.

I met the two little boys – both blonde. They both spoke English. They were energetic and agreeable in their way. The older fellow had flaxen hair and was tall for his age. The younger chap wore glasses. He had a tendency to say ‘’spock ee bock’’ when showing me how something functioned. Neither of them was one bit shy.

There was a four year old boy also blond. He was not to be my responsibility as he spoke not a phoneme of English. But oddly he was louder than his two older brothers combined.

There was also a 3 year old girl running around in her nappy. Guess what – she was blonde too but a darker blonde than the boys. Again she was not to be my charge. This fecund couple had produced 4 children in 6 years. That is quite a rate of production!

There was an open plan kitchen and drawing room. Everything was minimalist, tasteful and of the highest quality. The room was very spacious and airy. The ceilings were extraordinarily high. The walls were all white. A few plants in the corner of the room lent a natural feel to the place which otherwise have been almost austere.

I had to play with the little boys. They were rather wild and unmanageable.

Later I was summoned upstairs when they were to go to bed. I entered the large white bedroom that the two brothers shared. They were already in their pajamas and a black bearded youngish man was there – a friend of the family. He handed over some toys to them. I noticed the typical images of Orthodox saints. A variety of storybooks in Russian and English littered the room.

I was then bade go downstairs where I spoke to the mother briefly. She was watchful and almost unresponsive. It was as though she had no emotion. She was preternaturally phlegmatic. What was missing in her?

Then I was dismissed. The driver took me home.

One day I was free for almost the entire day and explored the area. From the shwarma stall on the corner I learnt the Russian word for ‘’takeaway’’ from the Central Asian chap working there.

I took a bus and the metro into town. I went to Mayakovskaya to meet Valeria. I took her to luncheon. She said she might have other work for me.

I then hastened back to Glukhovka. It was rather boring.

I shopped in the little supermarket in my housing complex. There was a 40 something man running it. He had the tight haircut, Orthodox cross necklace, machismo, muscles and bluff manner that typifies working class Russian males. I exchange a few pleasantries with him in his native language.

The driver came to take me to the house that evening. I asked what I should say if anyone asked me what I was doing in the housing complex. He then said the English words ‘’no Russian’’ and waved his hand – indicative of protesting my inability to comprehend their language. But I informed him I had already conversed in Russian in the supermarket so my cover was blown. Answer came there none.

I entered the gate of their garden. I was told to wait in the little guards’ building. I conversed with a bald, slim middle aged guard who was about 5’9’’. He said how he would like to learn English. He was smiling broadly. I knew that he had warmed to me. Russians are very sincere. I said that learning a new language took a lot of – then I racked my brains for the word – effort.

That evening I was in the house again. Once more the dog almost savaged me. But then she lay doggo on the carpet.

Later the hound sidled up to me. She was totally attitudinally different from a few minutes earlier. I indicated that I was unthreatening. I extended my left hand to pet her – left hand just in case she bit me it would not matter as much. She sniffed it, licked it and let me caress her a little. I thought we were friends.

Then I was with the boys. The mother had given them stationery sets. It included a scalpel. The older boy brandished it gleefully. I took it off him. He could accidentally kill someone with it. I handed the scalpel to his mother saying I had confiscated it. She gave it back to him!

Later I was to go to their private swimming pool with them. They had a tunnel under the garden to their pool complex which included a Finnish sauna and a Turkish sauna. The family was not stony broke! I never learnt anything about their acquirement of a few pennies.

I had a key to the pool itself. I went into the pool which was 10 m by 5 m or so. The two little lads were very strong swimmers for their ages. I made sure to stay very close just in case. I did not think that them drowning on my watch would be an ideal start to the job.

After a good swim in that lovely, warm clean pool it was time to go back. I let the door to the pool close. It locked itself. I then realized I had left the key inside there! Anyway we walked back to the house.

One time I had to go around with the littler boy. He and I were cycling around the housing estate. He wanted to climb into another garden of a house they also owned but did not occupy. I told him not to go in there. But he did anyway. I could not allow him to be there on his own so I followed him.

There was a thin wooden trestle fence. I climbed over it and it broke under my weight but I was not hurt.

There were two enormous and ferocious dogs. The barked madly. I was very worried. Turns out they knew the child and were tranquil around him which explained his insouciance but they growled fiercely at me.

Then a tall middle aged security guard came out. He took control of the dogs. He had us come into his little guard house. He and the child watched videos.

Later the boy went fishing in the pond there and chatted with the old gardener. The child gave me a spade, ‘’you will get us some worms.’’

I did as the 6 year old ordered me and dug in the patch he had indicated. I was thoroughly bored.

I only spent a few days with these children. They were good natured but tiresome.

I met the father on one occasion. He was 5’8’’ lean and fit. He was much more vivacious than his wife. He was clean shaven and in his 40s – his brown hair was speckled with grey. The dad and I chatted a little in my halting Russian.

After a few days it was time to leave. I am a reflector and I bethought to myself that whilst the salary was not to be sneezed at the job seemed perfectly ghastly. I did not want to work with little kids especially these really wild ones.

After my valediction to the mother one evening I headed towards the gate of their house. The security guards called me over to their little house. They had something for me. I was to sign for the envelope that I was to receive and date it. I wrote the date in Russian and asked, ‘’did I spell September correctly?’’

‘’More or less’’ one of them simpered.

Inside was cash: pounds sterling. Twas my payment for those days.

Next day I was driven to the airport. It felt good to be back in Blighty.

A few days later I got a missive. I would not be offered a job with the family. Had they so offered me one I surely would have declined it.