The Undomestic Goddess - Sophie Kinsella

discovered in the dressing table drawer, which look like they date from the 1980s. As disguises go, this isn’t exactly the most subtle job in the world—but at least I look nothing like my old self.

As I come downstairs, Nathaniel is heading out of the kitchen, looking pissed off. He looks up at me and stops dead in surprise.

“Samantha… what have you done?”

“Oh, my hair?” I touch it casually. “I just wanted it in a different style.”

“Are those your sunglasses?”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache. So…what’s up?” I add, hastily changing the subject.

“Irish.” He scowls. “She’s been lecturing me on noise. I can’t mow the lawn

between the hours often and two. I can’t use the trimmer without giving warning. Could I please tiptoe on the gravel.

Tiptoe.”

“Why?”

“Because of this blasted visitor. We all have to dance around her. A bloody lawyer!‘ He shakes his head in disbelief. ”Her work’s important? My work’s important!“

“She’s coming!” Trish’s voice suddenly shrills from the kitchen and she comes hurrying out. “Are we all ready?” She flings open the front door and I hear the sound of a car door opening in the drive.

This is it. I pull a few more strands of hair over my face and clench my fists by my sides. If I recognize this woman I’ll

just keep my eyes down, mumble my words, and play my part. I’m a housekeeper. I have never been anything but a housekeeper.

“Now, you should get lots of peace here, Melissa,” I can hear Trish saying. “I’ve instructed the staff to look after you with extra special care…”

I exchange looks with Nathaniel, who rolls his eyes.

“Here we are! Let me hold the door open…”

I hold my breath. A moment later Trish enters the house, followed by a girl in jeans and a tight white top, dragging a suitcase.

This is the top, high-powered lawyer?

She has long dark hair and a pert, pretty face, and can’t be much out of her teens.

“Melissa, this is our wonderful housekeeper, Samantha—” Trish breaks off in surprise. “Samantha… what on earth are you wearing? You look like Elton John!”

“Hello,” I say awkwardly, removing the sunglasses. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s fab to be here.” Melissa has a boarding-school drawl. “London was, like, sooo getting me down.”

“Mrs. Geiger said you’re a lawyer at some… big place in London?”

“Yah.” She gives me a smug smile. “I’m at Chelsea Law School.”

What?

She’s not even a qualified lawyer. She’s a law student. She’s a baby. I cautiously raise my head and meet her eyes— but there’s not a blink of recognition. Oh, for God’s sake. I have nothing to worry about from this girl. I almost want to laugh.

“And who’s this?” Melissa bats her mascaraed eyelashes alluringly at Nathaniel, whose scowl deepens.

“This is Nathaniel, our gardener,” says Trish. “But don’t worry, he’s under strict instructions not to disturb you. I’ve told him, you need absolute quiet for your work.”

“It’s true. I’ve got loads of revision to do.” Melissa gives a world-weary sigh and pushes a hand through her hair. “You

wouldn’t believe the workload, Auntie Trish. I’ve been soooo stressed.”

“I don’t know how you do it!” Trish puts an arm around her shoulders and squeezes tight. “Now, what would you like to do first? We’re all at your disposal.”

“Could you unpack all my things?” Melissa turns to me. “They’ll be creased, so they’ll all need ironing.”

She’s not going to do her own unpacking? I’m to be this girl’s personal maid?

“I might take my books out in the garden,” she adds airily. “Maybe the gardener could set up a table for me in the shade?”

Trish is watching in total admiration as Melissa rummages in a backpack full of textbooks.

“Look at all those books, Samantha!” she exclaims as

Melissa retrieves Beginner’s Guide to Litigation. “Look at all those long words!”

“Er… wow,” I say politely.

“Why don’t you make us all some coffee first?” Trish turns to me. “We’ll take it on the terrace. Bring some biscuits out too.”

“Of course, Mrs. Geiger,” I say, bobbing an automatic curtsy.

“Could you make mine half caffeinated, half decaf?” Melissa adds over her

shoulder. “I, like, don’t want to get too wired.”

No, I bloody couldn’t, you pretentious little cow.

“Of course.” I smile through gritted teeth. “My pleasure.”

As I carry the coffee out to the terrace ten minutes later, Trish and Melissa are ensconced in chairs under a parasol along with Eddie.

“You’ve met Melissa, have you?” he says as I set down the tray on a wroughtiron table. “Our little star? Our legal eagle?”

“Yes, I have. Your coffee,” I add, handing the cup to Melissa. “Just as you asked for it.”

“Melissa’s under a great deal of pressure,” says Eddie. “It’s up to us to make things easy for her.”

“You can’t imagine what the strain’s like,” says Melissa seriously. “I’ve been working into the evenings and everything. My social life’s, like, gone out the window.” She takes a sip of coffee, then turns to me. “By the way, I meant to say…” She frowns. “What’s your name again?”

“Samantha.”

“Yes, Samantha. Be really careful with my red beaded top, OK?” She takes another gulp of coffee.

“I’ll do my best,” I reply. “Will that be all, Mrs. Geiger?”

“Wait!” Eddie puts his cup down. “I’ve got something for you. I haven’t forgotten our little conversation the other day!” He reaches under his chair and produces a brown paper bag. I can see a couple of shiny books poking out of the top. “Now, you’re not going to get out of this one, Samantha. This can be our little project!”

Oh, no. Please do not let this be what I think it is.

“Mr. Geiger,” I begin quickly. “It’s really nice of you, but—”

“I won’t hear another word!” he interrupts with a raised hand. “You’ll thank me one day!”

“What are you talking about?” Melissa wrinkles her nose in curiosity.