The Undomestic Goddess

“Isn’t this twinkly elephant gorgeous?” says Trish, hooking it on the gilt belt. “And the frog!”

“Please,” I say desperately. “I’m not sure I need any elephants—”

“Seven thousand.” Eddie cuts across me. “Seems quite reasonable. Plus VAT.”

“Well, how much is it with VAT?” says Trish, rifling in her box. “Where’s that monkey gone?”

I feel like a Christmas tree. She’s hanging more and more glittery baubles off the belt, not to mention the beetle. And Nathaniel will arrive any moment—and he’ll see me.

“I don’t know!” retorts Eddie impatiently. “What’s seventeen and a half percent of seven thousand?”

“One thousand, two hundred, and twenty-five,” I respond absently.

There’s a stunned silence.

Shit. That was a mistake.

I look up to see Trish and Eddie goggling at me.

“Or … something.” I laugh, hoping to distract them. “Just a guess. So … have you got any more charms?”

Neither of them takes the slightest notice of me. Eddie’s eyes are fixed on the paper he’s holding. Very slowly he looks up, his mouth working strangely.

“She’s right,” he announces. “She’s bloody right. That’s the correct answer.” He jabs the paper. “It’s here!”

“She’s right?” Trish breathes in sharply. “But how …”

“You saw her! She did it in her head!” They both swing round to goggle at me again.

“Is she autistic?” Trish seems beside herself.

Oh, for God’s sake. Rain Man has a lot to answer for, if you ask me.

“I’m not autistic!” I say. “I’m just … I’m just quite good with numbers. It’s no big deal …”

To my huge relief the doorbell rings, and I rush to answer it. Nathaniel is standing on the doorstep, looking a little smarter than usual in tan jeans and a green shirt.

“Hi,” I say hurriedly. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Eddie blocks my way. “Young lady, you may be a lot brighter than you realize.”

Oh, no.

“What’s going on?” asks Nathaniel.

“She’s a mathematical genius!” says Trish wildly. “And we discovered it! It’s just extraordinary!”

I shoot Nathaniel an agonized she’s-talking-nonsense look.

“What formal education have you had, Samantha?” Eddie demands. “Other than cooking.”

Oh, God. What did I say in my interview? I honestly can’t remember.

“I … um … here and there.” I spread my hands vaguely. “You know …”

“It’s the schools today,” Trish declares. “Tony Blair should be shot.”

“Samantha,” Eddie says self-righteously. “I will take on your education. And if you’re prepared to work hard—hard, mind—I’m sure we can get you some qualifications.”

This is getting worse.

“I don’t really want any qualifications, sir,” I mumble. “I’m happy as I am. Thanks anyway—”

“I won’t take no for an answer!” insists Eddie.

“Aim higher, Samantha!” says Trish with sudden passion, gripping my arm. “Give yourself a chance in life! Reach for the stars!”

As I look from face to face I can’t help feeling touched. They only want the best for me.

“Um … well … maybe.” I surreptitiously divest myself of all the jeweled creatures and slip them back into the jewelry box. Then I turn to Nathaniel, who has been waiting patiently on the doorstep. “Shall we go?”

“So, what was all that about?” asks Nathaniel as we start walking along the village road. The air is soft and warm and my new hair is bouncing lightly, and with every step I can see my toes, painted in Trish’s pink nail polish. “You’re a mathematical genius?”

“No.” I can’t help laughing. “Of course not! I can just … do sums in my head. It’s no big deal.”

“Must be useful.”

“It can be. But I’d rather be able to cook like your mum. She’s wonderful.” I think back to the serene, homey atmosphere of the cottage, sitting at Iris’s table, feeling sated and sleepy and secure. “You must have had a really happy childhood.”

“We were pretty happy,” Nathaniel assents. “Of course, Dad was alive then.”

“It sounds like they had a fantastic marriage.”

“It wasn’t all hearts and flowers.” Nathaniel grins. “Mum can speak her mind, and so could Dad. But it was … grounded. They knew they belonged together and that was more important than anything else in life.” He smiles, reminiscently. “When they got really mad with each other, Dad would go and chop wood in the barn, and Mum would chop vegetables in the kitchen. The two of them would be at it furiously. Jake and I would be creeping around, not daring to make a sound.”