The Undomestic Goddess - Sophie Kinsella

Hmm. Probably not the local vicar, then. Maybe it’s something to do with his company.

I make a pot of coffee, put it on a tray, add a plate of biscuits and some muffins I bought for tea. Then I head to the dining room and knock.

“Come in!”

I push the door open to see Eddie sitting with four men in suits, around the diningroom table, each with a thick, open file before him. Sitting beside Eddie is a plumpish man in a soft brown jacket and horn-rimmed glasses. Directly opposite him is a guy with chiseled, good-looking features, wearing an expensive-looking suit.

“So just a few amendments,” the chiseled man is saying as I approach the table. “Nothing that should concern anyone!”

“Your coffee,” I murmur in deferential tones.

“Thank you, Samantha.” Eddie looks puffed up, like the lord of the manor. “If you could serve it out?”

I put the tray down on the sideboard and distribute the cups among the men. As I’m doing so I can’t help glancing at the papers on the table—and immediately recognize them as contracts.

“Er… white or black?” I say to a burly, red-haired guy in a blazer.

“White, thanks.” He doesn’t even acknowledge me. While

I pour the coffee, I have another casual look. It looks like some kind of property investment deal. Is Eddie sinking his money into something?

“Biscuit?” I offer.

“I’m sweet enough.” The red-haired man bares his teeth in a grin. What an asshole.

“So, Eddie.You understand that point now?” The chiseled-looking man is speaking, his voice dripping with concern.

I recognize this man. Not his face—but I know him. I worked with people like this for seven years. And I know instinctively that this man doesn’t care two jots whether Eddie understands.

“Yes!” says Eddie.“Yes, of course.” He peers at the contract uncertainly, then looks at the man in the brown jacket next to him. “Martin?”

“Let’s just have a look,” replies Martin. He starts perusing the document, nodding every so often. I guess he must be Eddie’s lawyer.

“We’re as concerned about security as you are,” says the chiseled man, with a smile.

“When it comes to money, who isn’t?” quips the red-haired guy.

OK. What exactly is going on here? Why am I suspicious?

As I move round to the chiseled-looking man and pour his coffee, the contract is

clearly visible and I run my eyes down it with a practiced speed. It’s a propertydevelopment partnership. Both sides putting up money… residential development… so far so standard… It looks fine.

I pour out coffee for the next guy and have another quick scan, just to be sure.

And then I see something that makes me freeze in shock. A carefully worded, innocuous-looking little clause at the bottom of the page that commits Eddie to funding any shortfall. In one line. With no reciprocity.

If things go wrong… Eddie has to foot the bill. Does he realize?

Does his lawyer realize?

I’m totally aghast. My urge to reach for the contract and rip it up is almost overpowering. If this were at Carter Spink, these guys would not last two minutes. Not only would I throw their contract out, but I would recommend to my client that—

“Samantha?” I jerk back to reality to see Eddie frowning slightly at me. “Could you please serve Martin?”

I’m not at Carter Spink. I’m in a housekeeper’s uniform and I have refreshments to serve.

I move round the table and pour out coffee for Martin, who is reading through the contract with not one sign of alarm. Hasn’t he seen the clause?

“Chocolate biscuit?” I offer him the plate. “Or a muffin?”

“Ah!” His fleshy face lights up. “Now… let me see… they all look so good…” His hand hovers over the plate.

I don’t believe this. He’s paying more attention to the muffins than he is to the contract. What kind of lawyer is this guy?

“So. Enough talk. The adventure begins.” Mr. Chiseled is unscrewing the lid of a smart pen. “Ready?” He hands it to Eddie.

He’s about to sign? Now?

“Everything OK by you?” says Eddie to Martin, whose mouth is now stuffed full of muffin.

“Take your time,” Mr. Chiseled adds with a perfect-toothed smile. “If you’d like to read it through again…”

I feel a surge of sudden fury at these guys, with their flash cars and sharp suits and smooth voices. They are not going to rip off my boss. I’m not going to let it happen.

“Mr. Geiger,” I say urgently. “Could I see you for a minute please? In private?”

Eddie looks up in annoyance.

“Samantha,” he says with heavy humor. “I’m in the middle of rather important business here. Important to me, at any rate!” He glances round the table, and the three men laugh sycophantically.

“It’s very urgent,” I say. “It won’t take long.”

“Samantha—”

“Please, Mr. Geiger. I need to speak to you.”

At last Eddie exhales in exasperation and puts down the pen.

“All right.” He gets up and ushers me out of the room. “What is it?” he demands.

I stare back at him dumbly. Now I’ve got him out here I have no idea how to bring up the subject. What can I say?

Mr. Geiger, I would recommend reviewing clause 14.

Mr. Geiger, your liabilities are not sufficiently protected.

It’s impossible. Who takes legal advice from their housekeeper?

His hand is on the doorknob. This is my last chance.

“Do you take sugar?” I blurt out.

“What?”

“I couldn’t remember,” I mumble. “And I didn’t want to draw attention to your sugar consumption in public.”

“Yes, I take one lump,” says Eddie testily. “Is that all?”

“Well… yes, there was something else. It looks like you’re signing some papers in there.”

“That’s right.” He frowns. “Private papers.”