Wellingtonian Beth Tillier, 29, put her social life on hold – and in some instances, her sanity – to care for some of England’s elderly aristocrats.
Over the past year and a half, she’s been working for a British care company that matches antipodeans with England's wealthy.
So, how did you end up living with English geriatrics, and what were your expectations going into this work?
Beth Tillier says it was very interesting seeing this side of British culture that not many people would experience. This is one of the homes where she worked as a live-in carer. Photo: Supplied
I heard about live-in care through friends. I didn't know what I was getting into. The agency said all I needed was a degree and to have a police background check, and to have the right visa.
The first one was with an old lady. I didn't have any expectations about her; from what the agency told me about her, and the phone call I had with her daughter, she sounded nice. I was open for anything.
And how were your days with her?
The days were routine: everyday she would get herself up and ready while I would make breakfast. We'd have that together, then she would go have a sit down on her chair, listen to the radio or watch TV, then I would tidy up and she would nap. I'd prepare lunch, then we'd have lunch together, then someone would come relieve me for two hours, and I would escape the house.
I would come back and she would be sitting in her chair asleep. I would prepare her afternoon tea and cake, then we'd sit together and chat, then she would sit watching TV while I would prepare dinner, then her daughter and son-in-law would come over (they lived on the same property) and I would have to serve them drinks, cheese and crackers.
They would leave then we would watch more TV, have dinner, watch more TV then around eight or nine she would go to bed. Then I would relax as much as possible, while still hearing her on the baby monitor in her room. I could hear her breathing, farts in her sleep, when she would get up to go to toilet, talking in her sleep or call out to her daughter – at which I would rush down and peep around her door and she would be asleep.
While you got along well with the old woman, it was her family who shocked you most. How?
My first experience of culture shock in this role was how classist and racist they were. They were complete snobs.
I Googled his name (he was a knighted sir) and found a video on him that sealed the deal – he seemed really nice and sweet, and I was desperate for the money.
It was very interesting seeing this side of British culture that not many people would experience.
I was often gobsmacked by comments made, and sent into silent fits of laughter from their use of old fashioned language that only the British upper-class could get away with: “Oh Christmas!” instead of “damn”, over use of the word “rather” in agreement of something, and just their general pronunciation.
I was often spoken down to, spoken about within my presence, and asked to do things for the family that weren’t really my duty to do.
And you did it all over again with someone else?
I came back to the UK after travelling. I was a bit apprehensive about looking after a man but the agency said he was really lovely, with a nice house and grounds. I Googled his name (he was a knighted sir) and found a video on him that sealed the deal; he seemed really nice and sweet and I was desperate for the money.
There were other staff there: another live-in carer and also an overlap with the woman I was replacing; a cook; three gardeners; two cleaners; a chauffeur on call; and a handyman.
The sir was also married to an extremely foreboding French woman. She was our main point of contact; we had to let her know everything that went on.
They were less snobbish than the first people I worked for, and very, very well-travelled; they had been to New Zealand and loved it, and New Zealanders.
They had so much money but they seemed like good people. They wanted to help people with their money; they did a lot of charity work with the company the family owned ... Still, she was quite scary and liked things done in a particular way. She was also profoundly deaf, so if she couldn't hear you she would get frustrated and dismiss you.
And with all that money came some painfully first-world problems. Tell us about the ducklings.
When I was looking after the sir, he had his own duck pond on his property and he had a little duck house there. Every afternoon he would go down in his little mobility scooter, sit in the duck house, watch his ducks, and feed them.
One day, we went down and there were all these mallard ducklings, about 13 of them, and he got really annoyed, saying “I never wanted these mallards here in the first place, they're just so common”.
I asked what him what he was going to do. He said, “We can't have them here. If they start to learn to fly, they’ll keep coming back here. I'll get the gardener to get rid of them.”
I was just like, “What? Get rid of them, how would you do that?”
I was really shocked that just because they were common ducks, he would want to get rid of them.
The following days, they were still there. He kept them for a week, and I was asking what he was going to do about them.
He said, “I suppose we could take them to the river and let them go."
So that's what they did in the end. They gathered them up, separated them from their mother and just dumped them down at the river.
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