The Undomestic Goddess

“So where the hell did you disappear to?” At last he stops tapping. “What have you been doing all this time? You’re not really a waitress?”

“No.” I can’t help smiling at his expression. “I’m not. I’ve got a job.”

“I knew you’d get snapped up.” He nods with satisfaction. “Who’s employed you?”

“Oh … no one you’d know.”

“You’re in the same area, though?” He puts his BlackBerry away. “Doing the same kind of work?”

I have a sudden vision of me in my blue nylon overall, mopping Trish’s bathroom floor.

“Er … as it happens, not really.” Somehow I keep a straight face. Guy seems surprised.

“But you’re still in banking law, right? Don’t tell me you’ve made a complete change?” He suddenly looks galvanized. “You haven’t gone into commercial law, have you?”

“Um, no … not commercial law. I’d better go.” I cut him off and open the door to the interview room. “See you later.”

I eat my sandwiches, I drink my mineral water. For half an hour no one disturbs me. I feel a bit like I’m in quarantine for some deadly illness. They could have given me some magazines, at least. I’ve developed quite a habit for gossip, after being surrounded by Trish’s endless supply of Heat and Hello!

At last I hear a knock at the door and Ketterman comes in.

“Samantha. We would like to see you in the boardroom.”

The boardroom?

I follow Ketterman down the corridors, aware of the nudges and whisperings from everyone we pass. He opens the huge double doors to the boardroom and I walk in to see about half the partners standing there, waiting for me. There’s silence as Ketterman closes the doors. I glance at Guy, who grins back encouragingly but says nothing.

Am I supposed to speak? Did I miss the instructions? Ketterman has joined the group of partners. Now he turns to face me.

“Samantha. As you know, an investigation of … recent events is under way. The results have not yet been fully determined.” He breaks off, looking tense, and I can see some of the others exchanging sober looks. “However, we have come to one conclusion. You were … wronged.”

I’m stupefied. He’s admitting it? Getting a lawyer to admit they’ve made a mistake is like getting a movie star to admit they had liposuction.

“I’m sorry?” I say, just to force him to repeat it.

“You were wronged.” Ketterman frowns, clearly not enjoying this part of the conversation at all. I almost want to laugh.

“I was … wrong?” I hazard, looking puzzled.

“Wronged!” he snaps. “Wronged!”

“Oh, wronged. Well, thank you.” I smile politely. “I appreciate that.”

They’ll probably offer me some kind of bonus, it crosses my mind. A luxury gift basket. Or even a holiday.

“And therefore—” Ketterman pauses. “We would like to offer you full equity partnership in the firm. Effective immediately.”

I’m so shocked I nearly sit down on the floor. Full equity partnership?

I open my mouth—but I can’t speak. I feel winded. I look around helplessly, like a fish on the end of a line. Full equity partnership is the highest pinnacle, way above the first rung of partnership. It’s the most prestigious job in law. I never, ever, ever expected that.

“Welcome back, Samantha,” says Greg Parker.

“Welcome back,” chime in a few others. David Elldridge gives me a warm smile. Guy gives me the thumbs-up.

“We have some champagne.” Ketterman nods to Guy, who opens the double doors. The next moment two waitresses from the partners’ dining room are coming in with trays of champagne glasses. Someone puts one in my hand.

This is all going too fast.

“Er … excuse me?” I call out. “I haven’t actually said if I’ll accept it.”

The whole room seems to freeze, like a videotape on pause.

“I’m sorry?” Ketterman turns to me.

Oh, God. I’m not sure they’re going to take this very well.

“The thing is …” I break off and take a sip of champagne for Dutch courage, trying to work out how to put this tactfully.

I’ve been thinking about it all day, over and over. Being a partner at Carter Spink is the dream I’ve had all my adult life. The glittering prize. It’s everything I ever wanted …

Except all the things I never knew I wanted. Things I had no idea about until a few weeks ago. Like fresh air. Like evenings off. Unburdened weekends. Making plans with friends. Sitting in the pub after my work is done, drinking cider, with nothing to do, nothing hanging over me.