The Undomestic Goddess

Guy’s wrong. It’s going to work. It’s going to last. Of course it is.

I can feel his thumb rubbing mine, just like he did that first evening we had together. Like some private language; like his skin is talking to mine.

“Are you going to introduce me, Samantha?” Guy comes sauntering over.

“This is Guy,” I say reluctantly. “I work with him at Carter Spink. Guy—Nathaniel.”

“Delighted to meet you!” Guy holds out his hand and Nathaniel is forced to let go of mine to shake it. “Thanks for looking after our Samantha so well.”

Does he have to sound so patronizing? And what’s this “our” Samantha?

“It was my pleasure.” Nathaniel glowers back.

“So … you look after the garden.” Guy looks around the drive. “Very nice. Well done!”

I can see Nathaniel’s fist forming at his side.

Please don’t punch him, I pray urgently. Don’t punch him—

To my relief I notice Iris coming through the gate, peering around at all the journalists with interest.

“Look!” I say quickly to Nathaniel. “Your mum.”

I greet Iris with a wave. She’s wearing cropped cotton trousers and espadrilles, her plaits wound round her head. As she reaches me she just looks for a few moments: at my bun, my black suit, my high-heeled shoes.

“Goodness,” she says at last.

“I know.” I laugh awkwardly. “A bit different.”

“So, Samantha.” Her eyes rest softly on mine. “You found your way.”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath. “Yes, I did. This is the right way for me, Iris. I’m a lawyer. I always was. It’s a great opportunity. I’d be … I’d be crazy not to take it up.”

Iris nods, her expression guarded.

“Nathaniel told me all about it. I’m sure you’ve made the right decision.” She pauses. “Well … good-bye, chicken. And good luck. We’ll miss you.”

As I lean forward to hug her I suddenly feel tears pricking my eyes. “Iris … I don’t know how to thank you,” I whisper. “For everything you did.”

“You did it all yourself.” She squeezes me tight. “I’m very proud of you.”

“And it’s not really good-bye.” I wipe my eyes with a tissue, praying my makeup hasn’t run. “I’ll be back before you know it. I’m going to visit as many weekends as I can.…”

“Here, let me.” She takes my tissue from me and dabs my eyes.

“Thanks.” I smile but I’m still shaky. “This makeup has got to last all day.”

“Samantha?” Hilary calls me from the refreshment stand, where she’s talking to David Elldridge and Greg Parker. “Can you come over here?”

“I’ll be right there!” I call back.

“Samantha, before you go …” Iris takes hold of both my hands, her face filled with concern. “Sweetie … I’m sure you’re doing what’s best for you. But just remember, you only get your youth once.” She looks at my hand, smooth against hers. “You only get these precious years once.”

“I’ll remember.” I bite my lip. “I promise.”

“Good.” She pats my hand. “Off you go.”

As I walk over to the refreshment stand, Nathaniel’s hand is tightly in mine. We’re going to have to say good-bye in a couple of hours.

No. I can’t think about that.

Hilary is looking a little stressed as I approach.

“Got your statement?” she says. “Feeling prepared?”

“All set.” I take out the folded sheet of paper. “Hilary, this is Nathaniel.”

Hilary’s eyes run over him without interest. “Hello,” she says. “Now, Samantha, let’s just run over the order again. You read your statement, then questions, then photos. We’ll start in about three minutes. The team are just distributing press packs—” Suddenly she peers more closely at me. “What happened to your makeup?”

“Um … I was just saying good-bye to someone,” I say apologetically. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“We’ll have to redo it.” Her voice is jerky with annoyance. “This really is all I need.” She strides away, calling to one of her assistants.

Three more minutes. Three minutes before my old life begins again.

“So … I’ll be back for Eamonn’s party,” I say, still clutching Nathaniel’s hand. “It’s only a few days away. I’ll catch the train down on Friday night, spend the weekend—”