disgraced the reputation of the firm and yourself. Kettermans voice sharpens as
though he, too, might be finding this difficult. You have lost fifty million pounds of a
clients money through your own negligence. And subsequently absconded with no explanation.
Samantha, you cannot have expected any other outcome, surely.
Theres a long silence. My forehead is pressed hard against the heel of my hand. I try to
focus on just breathing. In and out. In and out.
No, I whisper at last.
Its over. My entire career is really over.
Ketterman starts on a pre-prepared speech about meeting with the human-resources
department, but I dont listen.
Everything Ive worked for since I was twelve years old. Gone. Everything ruined. In
twenty-four hours.
At last I realize Ketterman has disappeared from the line. I get to my feet and stagger
over to the shiny fridge. My eyes are huge, burning holes. For a long time I just stand
there, staring at my own face until the features blur.
Ive been fired. The phrase echoes round my mind. Ive been fired . I could collect the dole. I imagine myself with the men from The Full Monty . Standing in the unemployment queue, moving my hips back and forth to Hot Stuff.
Suddenly I hear the sound of a key in the front door. I cant be found in this condition. I
cant face any probing, any sympathy. Otherwise Im afraid I might just collapse into sobs
and never stop.
Distractedly, I reach for a cloth and start sweeping it in meaningless circles over the
table. Then I glimpse my note to Trish, still lying there. I crumple it up and throw it in
the bin. Later. Ill do it later. I feel as though I can barely function right now, let
alone give a convincing resignation speech.
There you are! Trish comes tripping into the kitchen on her high-heeled clogs, holding
three bursting shopping bags. Samantha! She stops at the sight of me. Are you all right?
Is your headache back?
Im... fine. Thanks.
You look dreadful ! Goodness me! Have some more pills!
Really...
Now, sit down... and Ill make you a cup of tea!
She plonks the bags down and switches on the kettle, then rootles around for the green
painkillers.
These are the ones you like, arent they?
Id rather just have an aspirin, I say quickly. If thats OK?
Are you quite sure? She runs me a glass of water and gives me a couple of aspirin. Now.
You just sit there. Relax. Dont even think of doing anything else! Until its time to make the supper, she adds as an afterthought.
Youre... very kind, I manage.
As I say the words I have the dim realization that I mean them. Trishs kindness may be a
bit warped, but its real.
Here we are...Trish puts a cup of tea down and scrutinizes me. Are you home sick? She sounds triumphant, as though she may have cracked the mystery. Our girl from
thePhilippines did get rather blue from time to time... but I used to say to her, cheer
up, Manuela! Trish pauses thoughtfully. Then I found out her name was Paula. Extraordinary.
Im not homesick, I say, gulping my tea.
My mind is beating like a butterflys wings. What am I going to do?
Go home .
But the thought of returning to that flat, with Ketterman living two floors above, makes
me sick. I cant face him. I cant do it.
Phone Guy. Hell have me to stay. He and Charlotte have that huge house in Islington with
all those spare rooms. Ive stayed the night before. Then Ill... sell my flat. Find a job.
What job?
This will cheer you up. Trishs voice breaks my thoughts. She pats the shopping bags with
suppressed glee. After your stunning performance at lunch... Ive been shopping. And Ive got a surprise for you! This will make
your day!
A surprise? I look up, bewildered, as Trish starts producing packets from the bag.
Foie gras... chickpeas... shoulder of lamb... She hefts a joint of meat onto the table and
looks at me expectantly. Then she clicks her tongue at my bewildered expression. Its ingredients ! Your dinner-party
though he, too, might be finding this difficult. You have lost fifty million pounds of a
clients money through your own negligence. And subsequently absconded with no explanation.
Samantha, you cannot have expected any other outcome, surely.
Theres a long silence. My forehead is pressed hard against the heel of my hand. I try to
focus on just breathing. In and out. In and out.
No, I whisper at last.
Its over. My entire career is really over.
Ketterman starts on a pre-prepared speech about meeting with the human-resources
department, but I dont listen.
Everything Ive worked for since I was twelve years old. Gone. Everything ruined. In
twenty-four hours.
At last I realize Ketterman has disappeared from the line. I get to my feet and stagger
over to the shiny fridge. My eyes are huge, burning holes. For a long time I just stand
there, staring at my own face until the features blur.
Ive been fired. The phrase echoes round my mind. Ive been fired . I could collect the dole. I imagine myself with the men from The Full Monty . Standing in the unemployment queue, moving my hips back and forth to Hot Stuff.
Suddenly I hear the sound of a key in the front door. I cant be found in this condition. I
cant face any probing, any sympathy. Otherwise Im afraid I might just collapse into sobs
and never stop.
Distractedly, I reach for a cloth and start sweeping it in meaningless circles over the
table. Then I glimpse my note to Trish, still lying there. I crumple it up and throw it in
the bin. Later. Ill do it later. I feel as though I can barely function right now, let
alone give a convincing resignation speech.
There you are! Trish comes tripping into the kitchen on her high-heeled clogs, holding
three bursting shopping bags. Samantha! She stops at the sight of me. Are you all right?
Is your headache back?
Im... fine. Thanks.
You look dreadful ! Goodness me! Have some more pills!
Really...
Now, sit down... and Ill make you a cup of tea!
She plonks the bags down and switches on the kettle, then rootles around for the green
painkillers.
These are the ones you like, arent they?
Id rather just have an aspirin, I say quickly. If thats OK?
Are you quite sure? She runs me a glass of water and gives me a couple of aspirin. Now.
You just sit there. Relax. Dont even think of doing anything else! Until its time to make the supper, she adds as an afterthought.
Youre... very kind, I manage.
As I say the words I have the dim realization that I mean them. Trishs kindness may be a
bit warped, but its real.
Here we are...Trish puts a cup of tea down and scrutinizes me. Are you home sick? She sounds triumphant, as though she may have cracked the mystery. Our girl from
thePhilippines did get rather blue from time to time... but I used to say to her, cheer
up, Manuela! Trish pauses thoughtfully. Then I found out her name was Paula. Extraordinary.
Im not homesick, I say, gulping my tea.
My mind is beating like a butterflys wings. What am I going to do?
Go home .
But the thought of returning to that flat, with Ketterman living two floors above, makes
me sick. I cant face him. I cant do it.
Phone Guy. Hell have me to stay. He and Charlotte have that huge house in Islington with
all those spare rooms. Ive stayed the night before. Then Ill... sell my flat. Find a job.
What job?
This will cheer you up. Trishs voice breaks my thoughts. She pats the shopping bags with
suppressed glee. After your stunning performance at lunch... Ive been shopping. And Ive got a surprise for you! This will make
your day!
A surprise? I look up, bewildered, as Trish starts producing packets from the bag.
Foie gras... chickpeas... shoulder of lamb... She hefts a joint of meat onto the table and
looks at me expectantly. Then she clicks her tongue at my bewildered expression. Its ingredients ! Your dinner-party
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