Lucy Greenwell

We pull up on the wide gravel drive.

The big front door is propped open and a small Pekingese runs out to greet us.

Shall we go in?

Yeah.

Picture an archetypal English setting.

A red brick Georgian house set in lush green lawns.

Step inside and it's very lived in.

There's a kitchen with an agar, sagging sofas.

The walls are full of pictures.

Every surface is covered with ornaments.

Think faded maximalism.

It's beautiful and a bit shabby.

Our visit is a big deal for Selina and Gussie too, who have often wondered what happened to the baby who their nanny found.

Selina is the five foot tall matriarch of this house, and I really need to describe her for you.

So, black hair, layers of ancient clothes to cope with the slightly chilly house, and a lit cigarette on the go at all times.

Now, if you're picturing a 19th century fortune teller, you're not far off.

What kind of thing might you have said?

Childcare in Suffolk in the late 80s was a far cry from the professionalised world of nannies you might find today.

Which does slightly help explain how an 18-year-old with no experience of looking after children might still have landed the job.

When I think back to my own job interviews, age 18, I'm struck by the fact that her parents drove her to Selina's house for this interview.