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Authors: Sophie Kinsella
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is telling me about her housework, but she
seems to be waiting for a reply.
Thats a beautiful table, I offer at last, gesturing at a shiny mahogany side table. It
needs polishing. Her eyes narrow. Regularly. I do notice these things. Of course. I nod,
bemused.
Well go in here... Shes leading me through another huge, grand room into an airy glassed
conservatory furnished with opulent teak sun-loungers, frondy plants, and a well- stocked
drinks tray.
Eddie! Come in here! She bangs on the glass and I look up to see a dark-haired man in
golfing slacks walking over the large, well-manicured lawn. Hes tanned and affluent-
looking, probably in his late forties.
Trish is probably in her late forties too, I think, glimpsing her crows feet as she turns
away from the window.
Lovely garden, I say.
Oh. Her eyes sweep over it without much interest. Yes, our gardener is very good. Has all
sorts of ideas. Now, sit down! She makes a flapping motion with her hands and, feeling a
little awkward, I sit down on a lounger. Trish sinks into a basket chair opposite and
drains her cocktail.
Can you make a good Bloody Mary? she asks abruptly. I stare at her, bewildered. No matter.
She drags on her cigarette. I can teach you. Teach me... ?
Hows your head? she demands before Im able to finish. Better? Ah, heres Eddie!
Greetings! The door opens and Mr. Geiger comes into the conservatory. He doesnt look quite
as impressive close up as he did striding over the lawn. His blue eyes are a little
bloodshot, and he has the beginnings of a beer belly.
Eddie Geiger, he says, holding out his hand jovially. Master of the house.
Eddie, this is... Trish looks at me in surprise. Whats your name?
Samantha, I explain. Im so sorry to bother you, but I had the most terrible headache...
I gave Samantha some of those wonderful migraine tablets! puts in Trish.
Good choice! Eddie unscrews a Scotch bottle and pours himself a drink.
Im very grateful, really. I manage a half smile. Youve been very kind, letting me trespass
on your evening.
Her English is good, isnt it? Eddie raises his eyebrows at Trish.
Shes English! says Trish triumphantly, as though shes pulled a rabbit out of a hat.
Understands everything I say!
I am really not getting something here. Do I look foreign?
Shall we do the tour of the house? Eddie turns to Trish. Really, its not necessary, I
begin. Im sure its absolutely beautiful Of course its necessary! Trish stubs out her
cigarette. Come on... bring your glass!
This woman cannot have a life. All she seems interested in is housework. As we trail round
the first floor, viewing one splendid room after another, she keeps pointing out things
that need special dusting and polishing, and how careful you have to be with the soft
furnishings. Im sure silk drapes do need special treatmentbut why tell me?
Now upstairs! She sweeps out of the dining room.
Oh, God. Theres more?
You come fromLondon , Samantha? says Eddie Geiger as we head up the stairs. A huge oil
painting of Trish in a long blue evening dress with astonishingly sparkly eyes and teeth
gazes down at us, and I can see the real Trish waiting for a reaction.
Yes, I do. Thats a... lovely painting, I add. So vivid!
We were rather pleased with it. Trish looks complacent.
And you have a full-time job there? Im sure Eddies only asking to be politebut for a few
moments I cant bring myself to answer. Do I have a job?
I did, I say at last. To be honest... I dont know what my situation is at the moment.
What sort of hours did you work? Trish seems suddenly interested in the conversation.
All hours. I shrug. Im used to working all day and into the night. Through the night,
sometimes.
The Geigers look absolutely stunned at this revelation. People just have no idea what the
life of a lawyer is like.
You used to work through the night ? Trish seems stupefied. On your own? Me and the other staff. Whoever was needed. So
seems to be waiting for a reply.
Thats a beautiful table, I offer at last, gesturing at a shiny mahogany side table. It
needs polishing. Her eyes narrow. Regularly. I do notice these things. Of course. I nod,
bemused.
Well go in here... Shes leading me through another huge, grand room into an airy glassed
conservatory furnished with opulent teak sun-loungers, frondy plants, and a well- stocked
drinks tray.
Eddie! Come in here! She bangs on the glass and I look up to see a dark-haired man in
golfing slacks walking over the large, well-manicured lawn. Hes tanned and affluent-
looking, probably in his late forties.
Trish is probably in her late forties too, I think, glimpsing her crows feet as she turns
away from the window.
Lovely garden, I say.
Oh. Her eyes sweep over it without much interest. Yes, our gardener is very good. Has all
sorts of ideas. Now, sit down! She makes a flapping motion with her hands and, feeling a
little awkward, I sit down on a lounger. Trish sinks into a basket chair opposite and
drains her cocktail.
Can you make a good Bloody Mary? she asks abruptly. I stare at her, bewildered. No matter.
She drags on her cigarette. I can teach you. Teach me... ?
Hows your head? she demands before Im able to finish. Better? Ah, heres Eddie!
Greetings! The door opens and Mr. Geiger comes into the conservatory. He doesnt look quite
as impressive close up as he did striding over the lawn. His blue eyes are a little
bloodshot, and he has the beginnings of a beer belly.
Eddie Geiger, he says, holding out his hand jovially. Master of the house.
Eddie, this is... Trish looks at me in surprise. Whats your name?
Samantha, I explain. Im so sorry to bother you, but I had the most terrible headache...
I gave Samantha some of those wonderful migraine tablets! puts in Trish.
Good choice! Eddie unscrews a Scotch bottle and pours himself a drink.
Im very grateful, really. I manage a half smile. Youve been very kind, letting me trespass
on your evening.
Her English is good, isnt it? Eddie raises his eyebrows at Trish.
Shes English! says Trish triumphantly, as though shes pulled a rabbit out of a hat.
Understands everything I say!
I am really not getting something here. Do I look foreign?
Shall we do the tour of the house? Eddie turns to Trish. Really, its not necessary, I
begin. Im sure its absolutely beautiful Of course its necessary! Trish stubs out her
cigarette. Come on... bring your glass!
This woman cannot have a life. All she seems interested in is housework. As we trail round
the first floor, viewing one splendid room after another, she keeps pointing out things
that need special dusting and polishing, and how careful you have to be with the soft
furnishings. Im sure silk drapes do need special treatmentbut why tell me?
Now upstairs! She sweeps out of the dining room.
Oh, God. Theres more?
You come fromLondon , Samantha? says Eddie Geiger as we head up the stairs. A huge oil
painting of Trish in a long blue evening dress with astonishingly sparkly eyes and teeth
gazes down at us, and I can see the real Trish waiting for a reaction.
Yes, I do. Thats a... lovely painting, I add. So vivid!
We were rather pleased with it. Trish looks complacent.
And you have a full-time job there? Im sure Eddies only asking to be politebut for a few
moments I cant bring myself to answer. Do I have a job?
I did, I say at last. To be honest... I dont know what my situation is at the moment.
What sort of hours did you work? Trish seems suddenly interested in the conversation.
All hours. I shrug. Im used to working all day and into the night. Through the night,
sometimes.
The Geigers look absolutely stunned at this revelation. People just have no idea what the
life of a lawyer is like.
You used to work through the night ? Trish seems stupefied. On your own? Me and the other staff. Whoever was needed. So
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