The Undomestic Goddess - Sophie Kinsella

“Samantha, carry on,” spits Hilary, looking livid.

“They certainly were not unspeakable! ”Trish comes striding onto the lawn, her fuchsia heels sinking into the grass. “I will not have my toilets maligned! They’re all Royal Doulton. They’re Royal Doulton,” she repeats into the microphone. “Highest quality. You re doing very well, Samantha!” She pats me on the shoulder.

All the journalists are laughing by now. Hilary’s face is puce.

“Excuse me,” she says to Trish with suppressed fury. “We are in the middle of a press conference here. Could you please leave?”

“Mrs. Geiger, have you seen Nathaniel?” I look desperately around the crowd for the millionth time. “He’s disappeared.”

“Who’s Nathaniel?” asks one of the journalists.

“He’s the gardener,” puts in the ruddyfaced guy. “Lover boy. So is that all over?” he adds to me.

“No!” I say, stung. “We’re going to keep the relationship going.”

“How you going to do that, then?”

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 bestthing 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 worldrenowned 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.