The Undomestic Goddess 34
“Oh, Guy.” I manage a little laugh.
I switch off my phone. Everything’s changed. Or maybe he hasn’t changed. Maybe this was what Guy was always like and I just never realized it.
I stare down at the tiny display of my phone, watching the seconds of each minute tick by. Wondering what to do next. When it suddenly vibrates in my hand, I nearly jump out of my skin. Tennyson, my display reads.
Mum.
I feel a clutch of dread. She can only be ringing for one thing. She’s heard the news. I guess I should have known this was coming. I could go and stay with her, it occurs to me. How weird. I didn’t even think of that before. I open up the phone and steel myself.
“Hi, Mum.”
“Samantha.” Her voice pierces my ear with no preamble. “Exactly how long were you going to wait before you told me about your debacle? I have to find out about my own daughter’s disgrace from an Internet joke.” She utters the words with revulsion.
“An … Internet joke?” I echo faintly. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t know? Apparently in certain legal circles the new term for fifty million pounds is ‘a Samantha.’ Take it from me, I was not amused.”
“Mum, I’m so sorry—”
“At least the story has been contained within the legal world. I’ve spoken to Carter Spink and they assure me that it won’t be going further. You should be grateful for that.”
“I … I suppose so …”
“Where are you?” she cuts across my faltering words. “Where are you right now?”
I’m standing in a larder, surrounded by packets of cereal.
“I’m … at someone’s house. Out of London.”
“And what are your plans?”
“I don’t know.” I rub my face. “I need to … get myself together. Find a job.”
“A job,” she says scathingly. “You think any top law firm is going to touch you now?”
I flinch at her tone. “I … I don’t know. Mum, I’ve only just heard about being fired. I can’t just—”
“You can. Thankfully, I have acted for you.”
She’s acted for me?
“What do you—”
“I’ve called in all my favors. It wasn’t an easy job. But the senior partner at Fortescues will see you tomorrow at ten.”
I’m almost too stupefied to reply. “You’ve … organized me a job interview?”
“Assuming all goes well, you will enter at senior associate level.” Her voice is crisp. “You’re being given this chance as a personal favor to me. As you can imagine, there are … reservations. So if you want to progress, Samantha, you are going to have to perform. You’re going to have to give this job every hour you have.”
“Right.” I shut my eyes, my thoughts whirling. I have a job interview. A fresh start. It’s the solution to my nightmare.
Why don’t I feel more relieved?
“You will have to give more than you did at Carter Spink,” Mum continues in my ear. “No slacking. No complacency. You will have to prove yourself doubly. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say automatically.
More hours. More work. More late nights.
It’s almost as if I can feel the concrete blocks being loaded onto me again. More and more of them. Heavier and heavier.
“I mean … no,” I hear myself saying. “No. It’s too much. I … don’t want that now. I need some time.”
The words come out of my mouth all by themselves. I wasn’t planning them; I’ve never even thought them before. But now that they’re out in the air they somehow feel … true.
“I’m sorry?” Mum’s voice is sharp. “Samantha, what on earth are you saying?”
“I don’t know.” I’m kneading my forehead, trying to make sense of my own confusion. “I was thinking … I could take a break, maybe.”
“A break would finish your legal career.” Her voice snaps dismissively. “Finish it.”
“I could … do something else.”
“You wouldn’t last more than two minutes in anything else!” She sounds affronted. “Samantha, you’re a lawyer. You’ve been trained as a lawyer.”
“There are other things in the world than being a lawyer!” I cry, rattled.
There’s an ominous silence. I can’t believe I’m standing up to her. I don’t think I’ve ever challenged my mother in my life. I feel shaky as I grip the phone. But at the same time, I know I can’t do what she wants.