menu! Well eat at eight, if thats OK?
The Undomestic Goddess
Chapter Nine
Itll be all right.
If I say it often enough to myself, it must be true.
Ive opened my phone several times to call Guy. But each time, humiliation has stopped me.
Even though hes my friend, even though hes the person closest to me in the company. Im the
one whos fired. Im the one in disgrace. And hes not.
At last I sit up and rub my cheeks, trying to get my spirits back. Come on. This is Guy . Hell want to hear from me. Hell want to help. I flip open my phone and dial his direct
line. A moment later I hear footsteps clopping along the wooden floor of the hall.
Trish.
I shut the phone, pocket it, and reach for a clump of broccoli.
How are you getting on? Trishs voice greets me. Making progress?
As she enters the kitchen she looks a little surprised to see me still sitting in the
exact same spot she left me. Everything all right?
Im just... assessing the ingredients, I improvise. Getting the feel of them.
Just then a thin red-haired woman appears round the door, next to Trish. Shes wearing
diamante sunglasses on her head and regards me with an avid interest.
Im Petula, she announces. How do you do. Petulas just eaten some of your sandwiches, puts
in Trish. She thought they
were marvelous . And Ive heard about the foie gras with an apricot glaze! Petula raises her eyebrows.
Very impressive!
Samantha can cook anything! boasts Trish, pink with pride.She trained with Michel dela
Roux dela Blanc !The master himself!
So how exactly will you be glazing the foie gras, Samantha? asks Petula with interest.
The kitchen is silent. Both women are waiting, agog.
Well. I clear my throat several times. I expect Ill use the... usual method. The word glaze , obviously, comes from the transparent nature of the... er... finish... and complements
the... gras. Foie, I amend. De gras. The... blend of the flavors.
I am making absolutely no sense here, but neither Trish nor Petula seems to have noticed.
In fact they both seem totally impressed.
Where on earth did you find her? says Petula to Trish in what she clearly imagines to be a
discreet undertone. My girl is hopeless . Cant cook and doesnt understand a word I say.
She just applied out of the blue! Trish murmurs back, still flushed with pleasure. Cordon
Bleu! English! We couldnt believe it!
They both eye me as though Im some rare animal with horns sprouting out of my head. I cant
bear this anymore.
Shall I make you some tea and bring it through to the conservatory? I ask. Anything to get
them out of the kitchen.
No, were popping out to have our nails done, says Trish. Ill see you later, Samantha.
Theres an expectant pause. Suddenly I realize Trish is waiting for my curtsy. I start to
prickle all over in embarrassment. Why did I curtsy? Why did I curtsy?
Very good, Mrs. Geiger. I bow my head and make an awkward bob. When I look up, Petulas
eyes are like saucers.
As the two women leave, I can hear Petula hissing, She curtsies ? She curtsies to you? Its a simple mark of respect, I hear Trish replying airily. But very effective. You
know, Petula, you should really try it with your girl...
Oh, God. What have I started?
I wait until the sound of tapping heels has completely disappeared. Then, moving into the
larder to be on the safe side, I flip open my phone and redial Guys number. After three
rings he answers.
Samantha. He sounds guarded. Hi. Have you... Its OK, Guy. Ive spoken to Ketterman. I know.
Oh, Christ, Samantha. Im so sorry this has happened. So sorry... I cannot stand his pity. If he says anything else Ill burst into tears. Its fine,
I say, cutting him off. Really. Lets not talk about it. Lets just... look
forward. I have to get my life on track.
Jesus, youre focused! Theres a note of admiration in his voice. You dont let anything faze
you, do you?
I push my hair back off my face. I just have to... get on with things. Somehow I
The Undomestic Goddess
Chapter Nine
Itll be all right.
If I say it often enough to myself, it must be true.
Ive opened my phone several times to call Guy. But each time, humiliation has stopped me.
Even though hes my friend, even though hes the person closest to me in the company. Im the
one whos fired. Im the one in disgrace. And hes not.
At last I sit up and rub my cheeks, trying to get my spirits back. Come on. This is Guy . Hell want to hear from me. Hell want to help. I flip open my phone and dial his direct
line. A moment later I hear footsteps clopping along the wooden floor of the hall.
Trish.
I shut the phone, pocket it, and reach for a clump of broccoli.
How are you getting on? Trishs voice greets me. Making progress?
As she enters the kitchen she looks a little surprised to see me still sitting in the
exact same spot she left me. Everything all right?
Im just... assessing the ingredients, I improvise. Getting the feel of them.
Just then a thin red-haired woman appears round the door, next to Trish. Shes wearing
diamante sunglasses on her head and regards me with an avid interest.
Im Petula, she announces. How do you do. Petulas just eaten some of your sandwiches, puts
in Trish. She thought they
were marvelous . And Ive heard about the foie gras with an apricot glaze! Petula raises her eyebrows.
Very impressive!
Samantha can cook anything! boasts Trish, pink with pride.She trained with Michel dela
Roux dela Blanc !The master himself!
So how exactly will you be glazing the foie gras, Samantha? asks Petula with interest.
The kitchen is silent. Both women are waiting, agog.
Well. I clear my throat several times. I expect Ill use the... usual method. The word glaze , obviously, comes from the transparent nature of the... er... finish... and complements
the... gras. Foie, I amend. De gras. The... blend of the flavors.
I am making absolutely no sense here, but neither Trish nor Petula seems to have noticed.
In fact they both seem totally impressed.
Where on earth did you find her? says Petula to Trish in what she clearly imagines to be a
discreet undertone. My girl is hopeless . Cant cook and doesnt understand a word I say.
She just applied out of the blue! Trish murmurs back, still flushed with pleasure. Cordon
Bleu! English! We couldnt believe it!
They both eye me as though Im some rare animal with horns sprouting out of my head. I cant
bear this anymore.
Shall I make you some tea and bring it through to the conservatory? I ask. Anything to get
them out of the kitchen.
No, were popping out to have our nails done, says Trish. Ill see you later, Samantha.
Theres an expectant pause. Suddenly I realize Trish is waiting for my curtsy. I start to
prickle all over in embarrassment. Why did I curtsy? Why did I curtsy?
Very good, Mrs. Geiger. I bow my head and make an awkward bob. When I look up, Petulas
eyes are like saucers.
As the two women leave, I can hear Petula hissing, She curtsies ? She curtsies to you? Its a simple mark of respect, I hear Trish replying airily. But very effective. You
know, Petula, you should really try it with your girl...
Oh, God. What have I started?
I wait until the sound of tapping heels has completely disappeared. Then, moving into the
larder to be on the safe side, I flip open my phone and redial Guys number. After three
rings he answers.
Samantha. He sounds guarded. Hi. Have you... Its OK, Guy. Ive spoken to Ketterman. I know.
Oh, Christ, Samantha. Im so sorry this has happened. So sorry... I cannot stand his pity. If he says anything else Ill burst into tears. Its fine,
I say, cutting him off. Really. Lets not talk about it. Lets just... look
forward. I have to get my life on track.
Jesus, youre focused! Theres a note of admiration in his voice. You dont let anything faze
you, do you?
I push my hair back off my face. I just have to... get on with things. Somehow I
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