Sophie Kinsella - The Undomestic Goddess

I can sense a fresh interest stirring in the crowd of journalists.

“We just will, OK?” Suddenly, I feel near tears.

“Samantha,” says Hilary furiously. “Please get back to the official statement!” She pushes Trish away from the microphone.

“Don’t you touch me!” shrills Trish. “I’ll sue. Samantha Sweeting is my lawyer, you know.”

“Oy, Samantha! What does Nathaniel think about you going back to London?” shouts someone.

“Have you put your career over love?” chimes in a bright-faced girl.

“No!” I say desperately. “I just…I need to talk to him. Where is he? Guy!” I suddenly spot Guy at the side of the lawn. “Where did he go? What did you say to him?” I hurry toward him over the grass, almost tripping. “You have to tell me. What did you say?”

“I advised him to keep his dignity.” Guy gives an arrogant shrug. “To be honest, I told the guy the truth. You won’t be back.”

“How dare you?” I gasp in fury. “How dare you say that? I will be back! And he can come to London―”

“Oh, please.” Guy raises his eyes. “He doesn’t want to hang around like some sad bastard, getting in your way, embarrassing you―”

“Embarrassing me?” I stare at Guy, aghast. “Is that what you said to him? Is that why he left?”

“For God’s sake, Samantha, give it a rest,” snaps Guy impatiently. “He’s a gardener.”

My fist acts before I can think. It hits Guy right on the jaw.

I can hear gasps and shouts and cameras snapping all around, but I don’t care. That is the best-thing I have ever done.

“Ow! Fuck!” He clasps his face. “What the fuck was that for?”

The journalists are all crowding round now, hurling questions at us, but I ignore them.

“It’s you who embarrass me,” I spit at Guy. “You’re worth nothing compared to him.

Nothing.” To my horror I can feel tears coming to my eyes. I have to find Nathaniel.

Right now.

“Everything’s fine! Everything’s fine!” Hilary comes thundering across the grass, a blur of pinstripe trouser suit. “Samantha’s a little overwrought today!” She grabs my arm in a vise, her teeth bared in a rictus smile. “Just a friendly disagreement between partners! Samantha is greatly looking forward to the challenges of leading a world-renowned legal team. Aren’t you, Samantha?” Her grip tightens. “Aren’t you, Samantha?”

“I… don’t know,” I say in despair. “I just don’t know. I’m sorry, Hilary.” I wrench my arm out of hers.

Hilary makes a furious swipe for my arm, but I evade her and start running over the grass toward the gates.

“Stop her!” Hilary is yelling to all the PR staff. “Block her way!”

Girls in trouser suits start coming at me from all directions like some kind of SWAT team. Somehow I dodge them. One makes a grab for my jacket and I wriggle out of it.

I throw off my high heels too, and pick up my pace, barely wincing at the gravel under my soles. And then I’m out, running down the street, not looking back.

By the time I arrive at the pub my tights have been torn to shreds on the road. My hair has come out of its bun and half fallen down my back, my makeup is swimming in sweat, and my chest is burning with pain.

But I don’t care. I have to find Nathaniel. I have to tell him he’s the most important thing in my life, more important than any job.

I have to tell him I love him.

I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before, why I never said it before. It’s so obvious.

It’s so blinding.

“Eamonn!” I call urgently as I approach, and he looks up in surprise from where he’s collecting glasses. “I have to talk to Nathaniel. Is he here?”

“Here?” Eamonn appears lost for words. “Samantha, you’ve missed him. He’s already gone.”

“Gone?” I come to a halt, panting. “Gone where?”

“To look at this business he wants to buy. He left in the car a short while ago.”

“The one in Bingley?” I gulp in relief, still out of breath. “Could you possibly give me a lift there? It’s quite important that I talk to him.”

“That’s not where…” Eamonn rubs his neck, looking awkward. I feel a sudden foreboding. “Samantha―he’s gone to Cornwall.”

Shock slams me in the chest.

“I thought you knew.” Eamonn takes a step forward, shading his eyes against the sun.

“He said he might be down there a couple of weeks. I thought he’d have told you.”

“No,” I say, my voice barely working. “He didn’t.”

Suddenly my legs feel like jelly. I sink down onto one of the barrels, my head pounding. He’s gone to Cornwall just like that. Without even saying good-bye.

Without even discussing it with me.

“He left a note in case you dropped by.” Eamonn feels in his back pocket and produces an envelope. As he hands it over, his face is crumpled up with distress.

“Samantha… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I manage a smile. “Thanks, Eamonn.” I take the envelope from him and pull out the paper, S

I think we both know this is the end of the line. Let’s quit while we’re ahead.

Just know that this summer was perfect.

N

Tears are flooding down my cheeks as I read it, over and over. I can’t believe he’s gone. How can he have given up on us? Whatever Guy said to him, whatever he thought. How can he have just left?

We could have made it work. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he feel it, deep down?

I hear a sound and look up to see Guy and a crowd of journalists gathered around me.

I hadn’t even noticed.

“Go away,” I say in a muffled voice. “Leave me alone.”

“Samantha,” says Guy, his voice low and conciliatory. “I know you’re hurt. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’ll hit you again.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “I mean it.”

“Things may seem bad at the moment.” Guy glances at the note. “But you have a fantastic career to get on with.”

I don’t answer. My shoulders are hunched over, my nose is running, and my hair is falling around my face in lacquered strands.

“Be reasonable. You’re not going back to cleaning loos. There’s nothing to keep you here now.” Guy takes a step forward and puts my glossy high-heeled shoes on the table beside me. “Come on, partner. Everyone’s waiting.”

I feel numb. It really is all over. I’m sitting in a first-class compartment on the express train to London, with the other partners. In a couple of hours we’ll be back. I have a new pair of tights on. My makeup has been repaired. I’ve even given a fresh statement to the press, hastily constructed by Hilary: “Although I will always feel affection for my friends in Lower Ebury, nothing is more exciting and important in my life right now than my career with Carter Spink.”

I was pretty convincing. I even found a smile from somewhere as I shook David Elldridge’s hand. It’s just possible they might print a picture of that, rather than the one of me punching Guy. You never know.

As the train pulls out of the station I feel a painful stab and close my eyes for a moment, trying to stay composed. I’m doing the right thing. Everyone’s agreed. I take a sip of cappuccino, then another. If I drink enough coffee maybe it’ll jolt me alive.

Maybe I’ll stop feeling as though I’m in a dream.

Wedged in the corner opposite me is the TV cameraman for the news documentary, together with the producer, Dominic, a guy with trendy glasses and a denim jacket. I can feel the camera lens on me, following every move, zooming in and out, catching every expression. I could really do without this.

“And so lawyer Samantha Sweeting leaves the village where she was known only as domestic help,” Dominic is saying into his microphone in a low, TV-commentary voice. “The question is―does she have any regrets?” He gives me a questioning glance.