The Undomestic Goddess

“That didn’t take you long,” he says, a slight question in his voice.

“I’m … pretty quick when I want to be,” I say blandly.

“Samantha’s wonderful!” says Trish, biting greedily into a sandwich. “And such a tidy worker! Look at this immaculate kitchen!” She shoves another sandwich in her mouth and practically swoons. “This Thai chicken is divine!”

Surreptitiously I pick up one from the pile and take a bite into it, feeling suddenly ravenous.

Bloody hell, that’s good. Though I say it myself.

By half past two the kitchen is empty. Trish and Eddie devoured over half the sandwiches and have now gone out. Nathaniel is back in the garden. I’m pacing up and down, fiddling with a spoon.

Arnold will call soon. The meeting must have broken up by now.

I look out the window at a small brown bird pecking at the ground, then turn away and sink into a chair, staring down at the table, running my thumbnail obsessively round the fine grain of the polished wood.

I made one mistake. One. People are allowed to make one mistake in life. It’s in the rules.

Or … maybe it’s not. I just don’t know.

Suddenly I feel my mobile vibrate. I grab the phone out of my uniform pocket with a trembling hand.

The caller ID tells me it’s Guy.

“Hi, Guy?” I try to speak confidently—but my voice sounds tiny and scared to my own ears.

“Samantha? Is that you?” Guy’s voice rushes through the phone in an urgent torrent. “Where the hell are you? Why aren’t you here? Didn’t you get my e-mails?”

“I haven’t got my BlackBerry,” I say, taken aback. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I tried early today, but your phone seemed out of order. Then I was in meetings, but I’ve been sending you e-mails all morning.… Samantha, where on earth are you? You should be here at the office! Not hiding out, for Christ’s sake!”

Hiding out? What does he mean?

“But … but Arnold said don’t come in! He said it would be best! He told me to stay away and he would do what he could—”

“Do you have any idea how this looks?” Guy cuts across me. “First you freak out, then you disappear. People are saying you’re unhinged, you’ve had a breakdown … There’s a rumor you’ve skipped the country.…”

As the truth hits me, I feel a hot, choking panic. I can’t believe how wrong I’ve played this. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. What am I doing still sitting in this kitchen, miles from London?

“Tell them I’m coming straight in,” I stammer. “Tell Ketterman I’ll be there at once.… I’m getting on a train …”

“It might be too late.” Guy sounds heavy and reluctant. “Samantha … all sorts of stories are going round.”

“Stories?” My heart is thudding so hard I can barely say the word. “What … what stories?”

I can’t take all this in. I feel like my car has suddenly lurched off the road and I can’t stop it.

“Apparently people have said you’re … unreliable,” Guy says at last. “That this isn’t the first time. That you’ve made errors before.”

“Errors?” I leap to my feet, my voice as sharp as though I’ve been scalded. “Who’s saying that? I’ve never made any errors! What are they talking about?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t in the meeting. Samantha … think back carefully. Have you made any other mistakes?”

Think back carefully?

I’m stunned. He doesn’t believe me?

“I’ve never made any mistakes,” I say, trying and failing to keep my voice level. “None. Never! I’m a good lawyer. I’m a good lawyer.” To my dismay I realize tears are pouring down my cheeks. “I’m steady! You know that, Guy.”

In the tense little silence that follows, the unsaid is there between us. Like a conviction. I lost a client £50 million.

“Guy, I don’t know how I didn’t see the Glazerbrooks documentation.” My words tumble out faster and faster. “I don’t know how it happened. It doesn’t make any sense. I know my desk is messy, but I have my systems, for God’s sake. I don’t miss things like that. I just don’t—”

“Samantha, calm down—”

“How can I calm down?” I almost yell. “This is my life. My life. I don’t have anything else!” I wipe the tears away from my cheeks. “I’m not losing this. I’m coming in. Now.”