In January 2000 there was a BBC documentary broadcast which followed the lives of a handful of au pairs in various countries. Not meaning to be horrid, but most of them were appalling. The only one who looked like she was doing her best looking after the children, and trying to fit in to life in a new country was called Zoë. Perhaps it was as a sign.

We landed in Malpensa and, luggage collected, I slowly began to make my way to the arrivals hall. I can honestly say it was the first time in my life that I began to wonder if I’d bitten off more than I could chew. I had had one hour of Italian lessons a week for 6 months – not a lot by anyone’s standards. I was used to babysitting, but I also liked being able to give the kids back and leave when the parents returned home – would I be able to stay sane living in the same house as them 24 hours a day for the summer? I needn’t have worried. The parents and 8 year old were there to meet me, and during the 3 hour of so trip back to their home, I soon realized the language barrier was not going to be too much of a problem. After the usual “How was the flight? Where do you live? What do you like to eat?” questions, we ended up having a lively discussion – all in Italian, I might add – about the latest happenings in Dawson’s Creek. The 8 year old was a huge fan, and delighted to hear we were a season ahead of them, so I could tell him what would be happening. It was not what my Italian teacher had in mind, I’m sure, but her lessons had taught me more that I could have imagined, and all the words and phrases needed to describe the ongoing Dawson-Joey-Pacey love triangle.

Officially my working hours were 30 – 35 per week, spread over 6 days. Theoretically I would have 4 evenings off. That was what the agency, family and I had agreed, and what the contract stated. As you can guess, though, things didn’t quite go to plan. The problems began because the mother was at home on leave from work when I arrived, recovering from a nose job (seriously!). Somehow she had wangled herself a number of weeks off work from her job - as a biochemist, or something like that. This meant that she was with the children all day, and although I was there too, I had little role to play. I would help to clean up the kitchen as the kids did, and tidy up now and then, but apart from speaking English with them all, and helping the oldest with her studies, this was all I was doing. Child-care was not really coming into it, and I found this a bit odd.

In the evenings, the mother and I would take the children to the local Piazza – an almost official meeting place for balmy July nights. The adults would sit and talk, while I would run around with the 2 dozen or so children there. On occasion, I was sent to the cinema with the oldest and her friends. I remember seeing Mission Impossible 2 there, and though my Italian was still very much rudimentary, I understood a lot more of it than I had the original, which I saw in English in the UK. While the parents were cooking in the evenings, the children and I would watch English cartoons, look at comics, play games. The middle child took it upon herself to teach me the rudest words she knew, and, if I couldn’t quite figure out what she meant, would draw diagrams with a level of detail I certainly didn’t know at her age. She was a good teacher though, and to this day I can still remember the word “coglione”.

On my days off I went out – I was seeing enough of the house on the other 6 days, so I wanted to see the rest of the country. I traveled to Milan and Verona, both within easy reach of their home, shopping and seeing the sites, and generally being glad to be away from them all. I grew up with an older sister only, and had never before lived with young children, so this was all new to me. The youngest was a spoilt brat, and though his parents had come to realize this, they didn’t seem to be doing much to sort it out. Once when we were all together on the promenade, he started to spit and I told him off, not nastily, but enough that he knew I didn’t think he should be doing that. His mother turned around, surprised that I was bothering to comment on his behaviour when she was there, then merely shrugged her shoulders as if to say “What can you do?”. It was also thanks to this little darling that I taught myself the word “imbroglione” – cheat. It’s funny the things you still remember 4 years later. I have no problems with children being allowed to win, but they need to play fair. Cheating on their part is not on.

Some points to consider if you’re thinking of being an au pair

● Along with the long hours, the pay is not too good. I got 40 GBP per week which was standard at the time. It sounds ridiculously low, but is only supposed to be pocket money. All the major costs – food, accommodation, language courses in some cases – are covered by your host family. You can’t expect to save much in this job, but you should have enough to enjoy yourself in your free time, and maybe do some traveling after you finish your stay. In most cases you are responsible for your own airfare, though some families will pay half if you stay to the end of your agreed period. Some parents and au pairs run into problems with things like phone bills, so it’s helpful to sort these out in advance. Yes, you might be home sick, but that doesn’t automatically give you the right to make transatlantic calls for an hour a time.

● You’re living in a new country with a new family, so you cannot expect things to be just like at home. The weather will be different, the customs will be different and the lifestyle will be different. The moment that sticks in my mind, and this is totally true, is the night when the mother called the 12 year old into the bathroom because it was time for her armpits to be shaved. The girl wasn’t trusted with a razor, so the mother had to do them for her every few weeks. It was definitely one of those “We’re not in England anymore” moments.

Families who have 2 working parents (or single parent families where the mother of father in question works) often consider using au pairs as a cheap option. While they are this, compared to qualified nannies who earn many times more, you have to remember that a lot of them are young girls going away for the first time, often with only a bit of child care experience. I would never leave a child under one with an au pair, and would need to think hard about whether I’d leave a toddler with them. For families with school age children, though, they can be a good option. You get someone to pick the kids up from school, and supervise them until you get home. You get to share ideas with someone from another country, and, if you’re willing, pick up another language. But you cannot forget that they are there all the time. Yes, that spare room might be empty now, but how would you feel having a virtual stranger in there, and in your way in the bathroom and kitchen every day? Au pairs are not slaves and should not be treated as such. They should only be expected to do child-related housework – cleaning the little ones’ rooms, for example, or doing their laundry, and only when the kids are at nursery or school. They are primarily there to watch over the children, so if you only leave them to work while the kids are there, you shouldn’t expect them to have done much apart from care for the little dears by the time you get back.