My New Job In Notting Hill

Well…I have told you about some of the challenges I faced and some of the ways I started to learn how to deal with life and challenges again during my first job back in London.

The major decision I made was to leave that job as soon as I found another “tied-accommodation” role. I found a role fairly quickly as I have mentioned. I was moving to live with a high-profile family near Notting Hill.

I was moving to a very interesting and very diverse part of London. Ridiculous wealth in one street and around the corner dire poverty.

I was living and working in a house with a total of six floors because there were two floors below ground. I was running up and down the stairs a lot, which was probably good for me! There was a lot of work to do. The role was advertised as 4-4.5hours per mid week day, with the weekends off. I also agreed to do occasional child-minding.

The most important thing is I felt safer than I did in my first role. That was so much appreciated.

However… (always expect some trouble whenever you see me use that word!)…the role pushed me more than I anticipated. Those 4-4.5 hours were often 6, 7, 8, 9 or 10 hours days. The child-minding was only very occasional. But I ended up having to do a few hours on Saturdays although that was not mentioned at the interview.

It was a big step up for me, as some weeks my hours were more than twice the hours we had agreed before hand. I regularly worked between 40-50 hours. I enjoyed the work. But I was exhausted with those hours. I was not ready for those kind of hours yet. It was a beautiful house. I took a lot of pride in my work. I really liked the family and the nanny that worked for them. However, I was pushing myself physically. I had not worked those kind of hours since before I was attacked. The more tired I became the more pain I found myself in.

I have a couple of posts scheduled which describe some of the elongated workdays I faced and give you an idea why those days became so long. But before you read those posts, I will say this, I managed to keep up with the work and still enjoy life in Notting Hill. I saw lots of friends at weekends which was great. I went out on a couple of dates which was a big step because for the year after I was attacked, I was very nervous around men. I found out my sister Milly was expecting her first baby during that time. I found some amazing designer clothes in charity shops in the Notting Hill area.

But one day while I was working with the lady and gentleman of the household, I bent down to pick something up and as I stood up I knocked the back of my head on the underside of a large sink. I felt a little dazed. They had both seen me bang my head and asked if I was alright. I said I was and I carried on working. By the end of the day the whole right side of my face was covered with bruises.

That prompted my employers to take me to hospital where I was given a CT scan. The blow had aggravated the head injuries I received when I was attacked. The verdict was, I needed rest. I was told I was not to work for at least a month and it was suggested that really I should rest for more like 2-3 months. After contemplating the needs of the household I was working for, I suggested they may want to find another housekeeper. I had to leave London and return to the north of England to stay with my parents while I recovered from the knock to my head.

I had mixed feelings. I love my family. But it was so disappointing to me to be leaving London less than six months after I had moved down there to recommence working and living in London. I felt a huge sense of failure. But I was exhausted and I knew I had to heed the advice I had received from hospital.

But that was not the end! More to come in the CARAMEL LEARNING TO LIVE AGAIN series! But the next couple of posts are based on e-mails I wrote to Stuart while I was working in Notting Hill.

10 thoughts on “My New Job In Notting Hill”

    1. Well…I don’t know. I am sure he would have told me to rest and relax!!! He did not like to see me working. I think he would have taken me to hospital though. I am sure he would have wanted me to be alright. He would have probably told me to stop working so hard!


    1. It was!
      It happened just over three and a half years ago now. I feel it took me longer to recover from the physical injuries than the emotional trauma. That might sound odd, but I had been struggling with another challenge before that night that had drained me and eroded my self-confidence. Though I did not understand it properly at the time, everyone else says it was bullying and it lasted for at least two years. That had a bigger effect on me emotionally than the man in the park.
      But it’s all the past. I have been mending ever since and am focused on enjoying life without any of that dragging me down.
      These posts about my first work back in London after my attack show that it was not all smooth sailing though. I had to leave the job in Notting Hill after three months and go back up north in November 2016. I was disappointed, but I needed rest. But I was back in London in a couple of months and started a new job January 2017.


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