And what
about... me?
Guy is silent.
Theres my answer. I open my eyes to see two small boys on bikes staring at me.
Its over, isnt it? My careers over.
I... I dont know that. Listen, Samantha, youre freaked out. Its natural. But you cant
hide. You have to come back
I cant. Kettermans face looms in my mind. And what willArnold think of me now? I cant face
everyone.
Samantha, be rational!
I need some time!
Saman I flip my phone shut.
I feel a bit faint. I must get some water. But I cant face going into a noisy pub, and I
cant see any shops.
I totter along the road until I reach a pair of tall carved pillars decorated with lions.
Heres a house. Ill ring the bell and ask for some aspirin and a glass of water. And ask if
theres a hotel nearby.
I push open the elaborate wrought-iron gate and crunch over the gravel toward the heavy
oak front door. Its a rather grand old house made out of honey-colored stone, set well
back from the road, with steep gables and tall chimneys and two Porsches on the drive. I
raise a hand and tug the bellpull.
Theres silence. The whole house seems dead. Im about to give up and trudge back down the
drivewhen all of a sudden the door swings open.
Before me stands a woman with blond lacquered hair to her shoulders and long, dangly
earrings. She has lots of makeup, long silk trousers in a weird shade of peach, a
cigarette in one hand and a cocktail in the other.
Hello. She drags on her cigarette and looks at me a bit suspiciously.Are you from the
agency?
The Undomestic Goddess
Chapter Six
I have no idea what this womans talking about. My heads hurting so much, I can barely look
at her, let alone take in what shes saying.
Are you all right? She peers at me. You look terrible!
Ive got a rather bad headache, I manage. Could I possibly have a glass of water?
Of course! Come in! She waves her cigarette in my face and beckons me into a huge,
impressive hall with a vaulted ceiling. Theres a circular oak table in the middle, bearing
a vase of huge lilies, and a medieval-style bench at the side. Youll want to see the
house, anyway. Eddie ? Her voice rises to a shriek. Eddie, another ones here! Im Trish Geiger, she adds to me.
You may call me Mrs. Geiger. This way...
She leads me down a short passage into a luxurious maple kitchen and tries a few
drawers, apparently at random, before crying Aha! and pulling out a plastic box. She opens
it to reveal about fifty assorted bottles of pain-relief tablets, vitamins, and bottles of
something called Hollywood Skin Glow Supplement, and starts rootling about with her
lacquered fingernails.
Ive got aspirin... paracetamol... ibuprofen... very mild Valium... She holds up a livid red pill. This ones fromAmerica , she says brightly.
Illegal in this country.
Urn... lovely.
She hands me three green tablets and after a few attempts locates a cupboard full of
glasses. Here we are. Migraine relief. Theyll zap any headache. Eddie ! She runs me some iced water from the fridge. Drink that up.
Thanks, I say, swallowing the tablets down with a wince. Im so grateful. My heads just so
painful. I can barely think straight.
Your English is very good. She gives me a close, appraising look. Very good indeed!
Oh, I say, thrown. Right. Well, Im English. Thats... you know, probably why.
Youre English ? Trish Geiger seems galvanized by this news. Well! Come and sit down. Thosell kick in, in
a minute. If they dont well get you some more.
She sweeps me out of the kitchen and back through the hall. This is the drawing room, she
says, pausing by a door. She gestures around the large, grand room, dropping ash on the
carpet. Its decorated with what look like antiques, several big velvet sofas, and lots of
lamps and ornaments everywhere. As youll see, theres quite a lot of hoovering...
dusting... silver to be kept clean... She looks at me expectantly.
Right. I nod. I have no idea why this woman
about... me?
Guy is silent.
Theres my answer. I open my eyes to see two small boys on bikes staring at me.
Its over, isnt it? My careers over.
I... I dont know that. Listen, Samantha, youre freaked out. Its natural. But you cant
hide. You have to come back
I cant. Kettermans face looms in my mind. And what willArnold think of me now? I cant face
everyone.
Samantha, be rational!
I need some time!
Saman I flip my phone shut.
I feel a bit faint. I must get some water. But I cant face going into a noisy pub, and I
cant see any shops.
I totter along the road until I reach a pair of tall carved pillars decorated with lions.
Heres a house. Ill ring the bell and ask for some aspirin and a glass of water. And ask if
theres a hotel nearby.
I push open the elaborate wrought-iron gate and crunch over the gravel toward the heavy
oak front door. Its a rather grand old house made out of honey-colored stone, set well
back from the road, with steep gables and tall chimneys and two Porsches on the drive. I
raise a hand and tug the bellpull.
Theres silence. The whole house seems dead. Im about to give up and trudge back down the
drivewhen all of a sudden the door swings open.
Before me stands a woman with blond lacquered hair to her shoulders and long, dangly
earrings. She has lots of makeup, long silk trousers in a weird shade of peach, a
cigarette in one hand and a cocktail in the other.
Hello. She drags on her cigarette and looks at me a bit suspiciously.Are you from the
agency?
The Undomestic Goddess
Chapter Six
I have no idea what this womans talking about. My heads hurting so much, I can barely look
at her, let alone take in what shes saying.
Are you all right? She peers at me. You look terrible!
Ive got a rather bad headache, I manage. Could I possibly have a glass of water?
Of course! Come in! She waves her cigarette in my face and beckons me into a huge,
impressive hall with a vaulted ceiling. Theres a circular oak table in the middle, bearing
a vase of huge lilies, and a medieval-style bench at the side. Youll want to see the
house, anyway. Eddie ? Her voice rises to a shriek. Eddie, another ones here! Im Trish Geiger, she adds to me.
You may call me Mrs. Geiger. This way...
She leads me down a short passage into a luxurious maple kitchen and tries a few
drawers, apparently at random, before crying Aha! and pulling out a plastic box. She opens
it to reveal about fifty assorted bottles of pain-relief tablets, vitamins, and bottles of
something called Hollywood Skin Glow Supplement, and starts rootling about with her
lacquered fingernails.
Ive got aspirin... paracetamol... ibuprofen... very mild Valium... She holds up a livid red pill. This ones fromAmerica , she says brightly.
Illegal in this country.
Urn... lovely.
She hands me three green tablets and after a few attempts locates a cupboard full of
glasses. Here we are. Migraine relief. Theyll zap any headache. Eddie ! She runs me some iced water from the fridge. Drink that up.
Thanks, I say, swallowing the tablets down with a wince. Im so grateful. My heads just so
painful. I can barely think straight.
Your English is very good. She gives me a close, appraising look. Very good indeed!
Oh, I say, thrown. Right. Well, Im English. Thats... you know, probably why.
Youre English ? Trish Geiger seems galvanized by this news. Well! Come and sit down. Thosell kick in, in
a minute. If they dont well get you some more.
She sweeps me out of the kitchen and back through the hall. This is the drawing room, she
says, pausing by a door. She gestures around the large, grand room, dropping ash on the
carpet. Its decorated with what look like antiques, several big velvet sofas, and lots of
lamps and ornaments everywhere. As youll see, theres quite a lot of hoovering...
dusting... silver to be kept clean... She looks at me expectantly.
Right. I nod. I have no idea why this woman
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