The Undomestic Goddess

“Of course.” I nod.

“Anyway.” She pauses momentously. “I’ve decided I’m going to hold a charity lunch for Save The Children.”

“Good idea!” I say with enthusiasm.

“And you can help me organize it! After all your experience running such events for Lady Edgerly, you must be an expert!”

“Absolutely,” I gulp. “I look forward to it!”

The only experience I have with charity events is attending them with clients and being forced to watch drunken, highly paid bankers outbid each other in the auction.

“I must go too,” says Iris, getting up. “Good night, and thanks.”

“We can’t tempt you to the pub, Iris?” says Eamonn.

“Not tonight.” She smiles, her face illuminated by the twinkling fairy lights. “Good night, Samantha. Night, Nathaniel.”

“Good night, Mum.”

“Night, Eamonn.”

“Night, Iris.”

“Night, Grandpa,” I say.

It comes out before I can stop myself. I’m hot with embarrassment, hoping no one picked it up. But Nathaniel is slowly swiveling toward me. Trust him to have heard.

“Good night, Mary Ellen.” He lifts his eyebrows.

“Good night, Jim Bob,” I retort nonchalantly.

“I see myself as more of a John Boy.”

“Hmmm.” I look him up and down. “OK, you can be John Boy.”

I had a total crush on John Boy when I was a child. Not that I’ll mention this fact to Nathaniel.

“C’mon.” Nathaniel holds out his hand. “Let’s get to Ike’s Tavern.”

“Ike had the store.” I roll my eyes. “Do you know nothing?”

As we head up to the house we pass Melissa and Eddie on the terrace, sitting at the garden table, which is covered in papers and brochures.

“It’s just sooo difficult,” Melissa is saying. “I mean, this is a decision that will affect my whole life. It’s, like, how are you supposed to know?”

“Mr. Geiger?” I interrupt awkwardly. “I just wanted to thank you very much for this evening. It’s been absolutely incredible.”

“It was fun!” says Eddie.

“Have a nice evening,” says Melissa, heaving an enormous sigh. “I’ve still got work to do.”

“It’ll be worth it, love.” Eddie pats her hand reassuringly. “When you’re at …” He picks up a brochure from the table and peers at it through his reading glasses. “Carter Spink.”

Melissa is going for a job at Carter Spink?

“Is that …” I try to speak naturally. “Is that the name of the law firm where you’re applying?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Melissa, looking sulky. “It’s the top one. But it’s incredibly competitive. Hardly anyone gets a place.”

“Looks very swanky!” says Eddie, flipping over the glossy pages, each illustrated with a photograph. “Look at these offices!”

As he flips through, I’m transfixed. There’s a picture of the foyer. There’s one of the floor I used to work on. I can’t tear my eyes away—but at the same time I don’t want to look. That’s my old life. It doesn’t belong here. And then suddenly, as Eddie flips another page over, I feel a jolt of disbelief.

It’s a picture of me. Me.

I’m in my black suit, my hair pinned up, sitting at a meeting-room table along with Ketterman, David Elldridge, and a guy who was over from the States. I remember that picture being taken. Ketterman was absolutely livid at being disturbed.

I look so pale. I look so serious.

“And it’s like … do I want to give up all my time?” Melissa is jabbing the page. “These people work every night! What about a social life?”

My face is right there in full view. I’m just waiting for someone to frown in recognition, to say, “Hang on a moment …”

But no one does. Melissa is still rabbiting on, gesturing to the brochure; Eddie is nodding. Nathaniel is staring upward, obviously bored.

“Although, you know, the money is really good.…” Melissa sighs, and flips the page.

The picture’s gone. I’m gone.

“Shall we go?” Nathaniel’s warm hand tugs mine and I clasp it tightly back.

“Yes.” I smile up at him. “Let’s.”

Nineteen

I don’t see the Carter Spink brochure again for two weeks, when I’m drifting into the kitchen to make lunch.

I don’t know what happened to time. I barely recognize it anymore. The minutes and hours don’t march past in rigid chunks, they ebb and flow and swirl around. I don’t even wear a watch anymore. Yesterday I lay in a hay field all afternoon with Nathaniel, watching dandelion seeds float by, and the only ticking sound came from the crickets.