The Undomestic Goddess

Chapter Twenty-five

The news makes the front page of the Daily Mail. I am a genuine celebrity.

SAMANTHA CHOOSES LAW OVER LOOS. As I come into the kitchen the next morning, Trish is poring over it, with Eddie reading another copy.

“Trish’s interview has been printed!” he announces. “Look!”

“‘I always knew Samantha was a cut above the average housekeeper,’ says Trish Geiger, thirty-seven” reads out Trish proudly. “ ‘We often discussed philosophy and ethics together over the Hoover.’ ”

She looks up and her face changes. “Samantha, are you all right? You look absolutely washed out.”

“I didn’t sleep that well,” I admit, and flip on the kettle.

I spent the night at Nathaniel’s. We cooked mushroom omelets together and watched the end of an old war movie and had slow, tender sex. We didn’t talk any more about my going. But at three o’clock, when I looked over at him, he was awake too, staring up at the ceiling.

“You need energy!” says Trish, perturbed. “It’s your big day! You need to look your best!”

“I will.” I try to smile. “I just need a cup of coffee.”

It’s going to be a huge day. The Carter Spink PR department swung into action as soon as I made my decision and has turned my return into a full media event.There’s going to be a big press conference at lunchtime in front of the Geigers’ house, where I’ll say how delighted I am to be going back to Carter Spink. Several of the partners are going to shake my hand for the photographers and I’ll give a few short interviews.

And then we’re all going back to London on the train.

“So,” says Eddie as I spoon coffee into the pot. “All packed up?”

“Pretty much. And Mrs. Geiger… here.” I hand Trish the blue uniform, which I’ve been carrying, folded, under my arm. “It’s clean and pressed. Ready for your next housekeeper.”

As Trish takes the uniform she looks suddenly stricken. “Of course,” she says, her voice jumpy. “Thank you, Samantha.” She clasps a napkin to her eyes.

“There, there,” says Eddie, patting her on the back. He looks rather moist around the eyes himself. Oh, God, now I feel like crying myself.

“I’m really grateful for everything,” I gulp. “And I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch.”

“We know you’ve made the right decision. It’s not that.” Trish dabs her eyes.

“We’re very proud of you,” chips in Eddie gruffly as the doorbell rings.

I head into the hall, and open the door. The entire PR team from Carter Spink is standing on the doorstep, all in identical trouser suits.

“Samantha.” Hilary Grant, head of PR, runs her eyes over me. “Ready?”

By twelve o’clock I’m wearing a black suit, black tights, black high heels, and the crispest white shirt I’ve ever seen. I’ve been professionally made up and my hair has been scraped back into a bun.

Hilary brought the clothes and the hairdresser and makeup artist. Now we’re in the drawing room while she preps me on what to say to the press. For the thousand millionth time.

“What’s the most important thing to remember?” she’s demanding. “Above anything?”

“Not to mention loos,” I say wearily. “I promise, I won’t.”

“And if they ask about recipes?” She wheels round from where she’s been striding up and down.

“I answer, ‘I’m a lawyer. My only recipe is the recipe for success.’” Somehow I manage to utter the words straight-faced.

I’d forgotten how seriously the PR department takes all of this. But I suppose it’s their job. And I suppose this whole business has been a bit of a nightmare for them. Hilary has been outwardly pleasant ever since she got here―but I get the feeling there’s a little wax doll of me on her desk, impaled by drawing pins.

“We just want to make sure you don’t say anything else… unfortunate.” She gives me a slightly savage smile.

“I won’t! I’ll stick to the script.”

“And then the News Today team will follow you back to London.” She consults her BlackBerry. “We’ve given them access for the rest of the day. You’re OK about that?”

“Well… yes. I suppose.”

I cannot believe how big this whole thing has become. A news discussion program actually wants to do a fly-on-the-wall TV documentary section about my return to Carter Spink. Is there nothing else happening in the world?

“Don’t look at the camera.” Hilary is still briskly issuing instructions. “You should be good-humored and positive.You can talk about the career opportunities Carter Spink has given you and how much you’re looking forward to getting back. Don’t mention your salary―”

“Any chance of a coffee round here?” Guy’s voice interrupts us and he comes in, wearing a pair of expensive shades. He takes them off and grins at me. “Maybe you could rustle up some scones?”

“Ha ha,” I say politely.

“Hilary, there’s some trouble outside.” Guy turns to her. “Some TV guy kicking up a fuss.”

“Damn.” Hilary looks at me. “Can I leave you for a moment, Samantha?”

“Absolutely!” I try not to sound too eager. “I’ll be fine!”

As she leaves I breathe a sigh of relief.

“So.” Guy raises his eyebrows. “How are you? Excited?”

“Of course!” I smile.

Actually I feel a little surreal, wearing a black suit again, surrounded by Carter Spink PR people. I haven’t seen Trish or Eddie for hours. Hilary Grant has totally commandeered the house.

“You made the right decision, you know,” says Guy.

“I know.” I brush a fleck of lint off my skirt.

“You look sensational. You’re going to blow them away.” He perches on a sofa arm opposite me and sighs. “Jesus, I missed you, Samantha. It hasn’t been the same.”

Does he have any sense of irony? Or did they fix that at Harvard too?

“So now you’re my best friend again.” I can’t help a slight edge. “Funny, that.”

Guy blinks at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Guy.” I almost want to laugh. “You didn’t want to know me when I was in trouble. Now suddenly we’re chums again?”

“That’s unfair,” retorts Guy hotly. “I did everything I could for you, Samantha. I fought for you in that meeting. It was Arnold who refused to have you back. At the time we had no idea why―”

“You wouldn’t let me in your house, though, would you? Friendship wouldn’t quite extend that far.”

Guy looks genuinely thrown. He pushes his hair back with both hands.

“I felt terrible about that,” he says. “It wasn’t me. It was Charlotte. I was furious with her―”

“Of course you were.”

“I was!”

“Yeah, right,” I say sarcastically. “So I suppose you had a huge row about it and broke up.”

“Yes,” says Guy.

The wind is totally taken out of my sails.

“Yes?”

“We’ve split up.” He shrugs. “Didn’t you know?”

“No! I had no idea! I’m… sorry. I really didn’t―” I break off in confusion. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t really over me?”

Guy doesn’t answer. His brown eyes are becoming more intense.

“Samantha,” he says, not moving his gaze from mine. “I’ve always felt…” He thrusts his hands in his pockets. “I’ve always felt we somehow… missed our chance.”

No. This can’t be happening.

We missed our chance?

Now he says this?

“I’ve always really admired you. I always felt there was a spark between us.” He hesitates. “I wondered whether you felt… the same.”

This is unreal. How many millions of times have I imagined Guy saying these words to me? But now that he’s actually doing it… it’s too late. It’s all wrong.

“Samantha?”

Suddenly I realize I’m staring at him like a zombie.

“Oh. Right.” I try to pull myself together. “Well… yes. Maybe I used to feel like that too.” I fiddle with my skirt. “But the thing is… I’ve met someone. Since I’ve been here.”

“The gardener,” says Guy without missing a beat.

“Yes!” I look up in surprise. “How did you―”

“Some of the journalists were talking about it outside.”

“Oh. Well, it’s true. His name’s Nathaniel.” I feel myself blush.

Guy frowns. “But that’s just a holiday romance.”

“It’s not a holiday romance!” I say, taken aback. “It’s a relationship.We’re serious about each other.”

“Is he moving to London?”

“Well… no. He hates London.”

Guy looks incredulous for a moment, then throws back his head and roars with laughter.

“Samantha, you really are living in fantasyland.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, incensed. “We’ll make it work somehow. If we both want it enough―”

“I’m not sure you’ve quite got the situation yet.” Guy shakes his head. “Samantha, you’re leaving this place. You’re coming back to London, back to reality, back to work. Believe me, you’re never going to keep up some holiday fling.”

“It was not a holiday fling!” I yell furiously, as the door opens. Hilary looks from Guy to me with alert, suspicious eyes.

“Everything all right?”

“Fine,” I say, turning away from Guy. “I’m fine.”

“Good!” She taps her watch. “Because it’s nearly time!”

The entire world seems to have descended on the Geigers’ house. As I venture out the front door with Hilary and two

PR managers, there are what looks like hundreds of people in the drive. A row of TV cameras is trained on me, photographers and journalists are in a crowd behind, and Carter Spink PR assistants are milling around, keeping everyone in line and handing out coffee from a refreshments stand that seems to have sprung up from nowhere. At the gate I can see a group of regulars from the pub peering in curiously, and I shoot them a mortified grin.

“It’ll be a few more minutes,” says Hilary, listening to her mobile. “We’re just waiting for the Daily Telegraph.”

I can see David Elldridge and Greg Parker standing by the cappuccino machine, both typing on their BlackBerrys. The PR department wanted as many partners as possible, but none of the others could make it. Frankly, they were lucky to get this many. As I’m watching, to my disbelief I see Melissa approaching them, dressed up smartly in a beige suit and holding… is that a CV?

“Hi!” I hear her begin. “I’m a very good friend of Samantha Sweeting, and she recommended I apply to Carter Spink.”

I can’t help smiling. The girl has some nerve.

“Samantha.” I look up to see Nathaniel coming across the gravel, his blue eyes tense.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m… fine.” I feel his hand clasping mine and intertwine my fingers between his as tightly as I can. “You know. It’s all a bit crazy.”

Guy’s wrong. It’s going to work. It’s going to last. Of course it is.

I can feel his thumb rubbing mine, just like he did that first evening we had together.

Like some private language; like his skin is talking to mine.

“Are you going to introduce me, Samantha?” Guy comes sauntering over.

“This is Guy,” I say reluctantly. “I work with him at Carter Spink. Guy―Nathaniel.”

“Delighted to meet you!” Guy holds out his hand and Nathaniel is forced to let go of mine to shake it. “Thanks for looking after our Samantha so well.”

Does he have to sound so patronizing? And what’s this “our” Samantha?

“It was my pleasure.” Nathaniel glowers back.

“So… you look after the garden.” Guy looks around the drive.“Very nice.Well done!”

I can see Nathaniel’s fist forming at his side.

Please don’t punch him, I pray urgently. Don’t punch him― To my relief I notice Iris coming through the gate, peering around at all the journalists with interest.

“Look!” I say quickly to Nathaniel. “Your mum.”

I greet Iris with a wave. She’s wearing cropped cotton trousers and espadrilles, her plaits wound round her head. As she reaches me she just looks for a few moments: at my bun, my black suit, my high-heeled shoes.

“Goodness,” she says at last.

“I know.” I laugh awkwardly. “A bit different.”

“So, Samantha.” Her eyes rest softly on mine. “You found your way.”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath.“Yes, I did.This is the right way for me, Iris. I’m a lawyer.

I always was. It’s a great opportunity. I’d be… I’d be crazy not to take it up.”

Iris nods, her expression guarded.

“Nathaniel told me all about it. I’m sure you’ve made the right decision.” She pauses.

“Well… good-bye, chicken. And good luck.We’ll miss you.”

As I lean forward to hug her I suddenly feel tears pricking my eyes. “Iris… I don’t know how to thank you,” I whisper. “For everything you did.”

“You did it all yourself.” She squeezes me tight. “I’m very proud of you.”

“And it’s not really good-bye.” I wipe my eyes with a tissue, praying my makeup hasn’t run. “I’ll be back before you know it. I’m going to visit as many weekends as I can…”

“Here, let me.” She takes my tissue from me and dabs my eyes.

“Thanks.” I smile but I’m still shaky. “This makeup has got to last all day.”

“Samantha?” Hilary calls me from the refreshment stand, where she’s talking to David Elldridge and Greg Parker. “Can you come over here?”

“I’ll be right there!” I call back.

“Samantha, before you go…” Iris takes hold of both my hands, her face filled with concern. “Sweetie… I’m sure you’re doing what’s best for you. But just remember, you only get your youth once.” She looks at my hand, smooth against hers. “You only get these precious years once.”

“I’ll remember.” I bite my lip. “I promise.”

“Good.” She pats my hand. “Off you go.”

As I walk over to the refreshment stand, Nathaniel’s hand is tightly in mine. We’re going to have to say good-bye in a couple of hours.

No. I can’t think about that.

Hilary is looking a little stressed as I approach.

“Got your statement?” she says. “Feeling prepared?”

“All set.” I take out the folded sheet of paper. “Hilary, this is Nathaniel.”

Hilary’s eyes run over him without interest. “Hello,” she says. “Now, Samantha, let’s just run over the order again. You read your statement, then questions, then photos.

We’ll start in about three minutes. The team are just distributing press packs―”

Suddenly she peers more closely at me. “What happened to your makeup?”

“Um… I was just saying good-bye to someone,” I say apologetically. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“We’ll have to redo it.” Her voice is jerky with annoyance. “This really is all I need.”

She strides away, calling to one of her assistants.

Three more minutes.Three minutes before my old life begins again.

“So… I’ll be back for Eamonn’s party,” I say, still clutching Nathaniel’s hand. “It’s only a few days away. I’ll catch the train down on Friday night, spend the weekend― ”

“No, you won’t,” chips in Guy, shaking chocolate onto a cappuccino. He looks up.

“You’ll be in Hong Kong.”

“What?” I say stupidly.

“Samatron are delighted you’re back and they’ve asked for you on this merger. We’re flying to Hong Kong tomorrow. Has no one told you?”

“No,” I say, taken aback. “No one’s even mentioned it.”

Guy shrugs. “I thought you knew. Five days in Hong Kong and then on to Singapore.

You and I are going to be wooing some new clients.” He takes a sip of coffee. “You need to start pulling in business, Samantha Sweeting, equity partner. Can’t rest on your laurels.”

I haven’t even started the job yet. And they’re already talking about resting on my laurels?

“So… when will we be back?”

Guy shrugs. “Couple of weeks?”

“Samantha!” says Elldridge, coming up. “Has Guy mentioned, we want you on a corporate shooting weekend in September? Up in Scotland; should be fun.”

“Right. Um, yes, that sounds great.” I rub my nose. “The only thing is, I’m trying to keep some weekends free… keep a bit of balance in my life…”

Elldridge looks puzzled.

“You’ve had your break, Samantha,” he says. “Now it’s back to work. And I must talk to you about New York.” He pats me on the shoulder and turns to the girl manning the coffee machine. “Another espresso, please.”

“Realistically, I’d say you’re not going to have a free weekend till Christmas,” puts in Guy. “I did warn you.” He raises his eyebrows meaningfully and moves away to talk to Hilary.

There’s silence. I don’t know what to say. Everything’s moving too fast. I thought it would be different this time. I thought I’d have more control.

“Christmas,” echoes Nathaniel at last, looking thunderstruck.

“No,” I say at once. “He’s exaggerating. It won’t be that bad. I’ll rearrange things.” I rub my brow. “Look, Nathaniel, I’ll be back before Christmas. I promise. Things might be busy―but I’ll do it somehow. Whatever it takes.”

He flinches at my words. “Don’t turn it into a duty.”

“Duty?” I stare at him. “That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Two minutes!” Hilary comes bustling up with the makeup artist, but I ignore her.

“Nathaniel―”

“Samantha!” snaps Hilary, trying to pull me away. “You really don’t have time for this!”

“You should go.” Nathaniel gestures with his head. “You’re busy.”

This is awful. It feels like everything is disintegrating between us.

“Nathaniel, just tell me.” My voice trembles.“Tell me before I go. That day in the farmhouse―what did you say to me?”

Nathaniel looks at me for a long moment, then something in his eyes seems to close up.

“It was long and boring and badly put.” He turns away with a half shrug.

“Please do something with those smudges!” Hilary is saying. “Could you please move?” she adds sharply to Nathaniel.

“I’ll get out of your way.” Nathaniel lets go of my hand and retreats before I can say anything.

“You’re not in my way!” I call after him, but I’m not sure he hears.

As the makeup artist begins her work, my mind is spinning so fast I feel faint.

Suddenly all my certainty has vanished. Am I doing the right thing?

Oh, God. What is wrong with me?

“Close, please.” The makeup artist is brushing at my eyelids. “Now open…”

I open my eyes to see Nathaniel and Guy standing together, some way away. Guy’s talking and Nathaniel is listening, his face taut. I feel a sudden stab of unease. What’s Guy saying?

“Close again,” says the makeup artist. Reluctantly I close my eyes and feel her brushing yet more shadow on. For God’s sake. Hasn’t she finished? Does it matter what I look like?

At last she withdraws her brush. “Open.”

I open my eyes to see Guy standing in the same spot, a few yards away. But Nathaniel’s vanished. Where’s he gone?

“Put.your lips together…” the makeup artist instructs, producing a lipstick brush.

My eyes are darting in panic around the crowded drive, looking for Nathaniel. I need him. I need to talk to him before this press conference goes ahead.

“Ready for your big moment? Got your statement?” Hilary is upon me again, smelling of freshly applied scent. “That looks a lot better! Chin up!” She taps my chin so sharply I wince. “Any last-minute questions?”

“Um… yes,” I say desperately. “I wasjust wondering… could we possibly put it off for a little bit? Just a few minutes.”

Hilary’s face freezes.

“What?” she says at last. I have a dreadful feeling she’s going to explode.

“I feel a bit… confused. I need more time to think…” I trail off at Hilary’s expression.

She comes toward me and brings her face very close to mine. She’s still smiling, but her eyes are snapping and hei nostrils flared and white. I take a step back, quailing, but she grabs my shoulders so hard I can feel her nails digging into my flesh.

“Samantha,” she hisses. “You will go out there, you will read your statement, and you will say Carter Spink is the best law firm in the world. And if you don’t―I will kill you.”

I think she’s serious.

“We’re all confused, Samantha. We all need more time tc think.That’s life.” She gives me a little shake.“Get over it.” She breathes out sharply and smooths down her suit.

“Right! I’m going to announce you.”

She marches onto the lawn. I just stand there, shaking.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press!” Hilary’s voice is blaring through the microphone. “I’m delighted to welcome you all here this morning.”

Suddenly I spot Guy, helping himself to a mineral water. “Guy!” I call urgently.“Guy!

Where’s Nathaniel?”

“I have no idea,” says Guy insouciantly.

“What did you say to him? When you were talking just now?”

“I didn’t have to say much,” Guy replies. “He could tell the way the wind was blowing.”

“What do you mean?” I feel like I’ve missed something. “The wind wasn’t blowing any way.”

“Samantha, don’t be naive.” Guy takes a swig of water. “He’s a grown man. He understands.”

“… our newest partner at Carter Spink, Samantha Sweeting!” Hilary’s voice and the applause breaking out barely touch my consciousness.

“Understands what?” I say in horror. “What did you say?”

“Samantha!” Hilary interrupts with a sweetly savage smile. “We’re all waiting! Lots of busy people!” She grabs my hand with an iron grip and drags me with surprising force onto the grass. “Off you go! Enjoy!” She gives me a sharp dig in the back and walks away.

I’m stranded in front of the nation’s press.

“Move it!” Hilary’s tense undertone makes me jump. I feel like I’m on a conveyor belt. The only way is forward.

With wobbling legs I make my way into the middle of the lawn, where a microphone has been set up on a stand.The sun is glinting off all the camera lenses and I feel half blinded. I search the crowd as best I can for Nathaniel, but I can’t spot him anywhere.

Irish is standing a few yards away to my right, in a fuchsia pink suit, and waves frantically. Beside her, Eddie is holding a camcorder.

Slowly I unfold my statement and smooth it down.

“Good afternoon,” I say into the microphone, my voice stilted. “I am delighted to be able to share my exciting news with you. After being made a wonderful offer by Carter Spink, I will be returning to the firm today as a partner. Needless to say… I’m thrilled.”

Somehow I can’t make my voice sound thrilled.The words feel empty as I say them.

“I have been overwhelmed by the warmth and generosity of the Carter Spink welcome,” I continue hesitantly, “and am honored to be joining such a prestigious partnership of…”

I’m still seeking out Nathaniel. I can’t concentrate on what I’m saying.

“Talent and excellence!” snaps Hilary from the sidelines.

“Um… yes.” I find my place on the sheet. “Talent. And excellence.”

A titter goes through the crowd of journalists. I’m not doing a very good job here.

“Carter Spink’s quality of service is… um… second to none,” I continue, trying to sound convincing.

“Better quality than the toilets you used to clean?” calls out a journalist with ruddy cheeks.

“We are not taking questions at this stage!” Hilary comes out crossly onto the lawn.

“And we are taking no questions on the subject of toilets, bathrooms, or any other form of sanitary ware. Samantha, carry on.”

“Unspeakable, were they?” shouts the ruddy-cheeked guy with a guffaw of laughter.

“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 ruddy-faced 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 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.”