The Undomestic Goddess Read Online Free PDF Page B

work to get through
     anyway.
    Work ? Freya looks appalled. Now? Are you serious? Doesnt it ever stop ?
    Were busy at the moment. Its just a blip
    Theres always a blip! Theres always a crisis! Every year you put off doing anything fun
    Thats not true
    Every year you tell me work will get better soon. But it never does! Her eyes are filled
     with concern. Samantha... what happened to your life?
    Im silent for a moment, cars roaring along behind me on the street. To be honest, I cant
     remember what my life used to be like. As I cast my mind back over the years, I recall the
     holiday I had with Freya inItaly , the summer after A Levels, when we were both eighteen.
     My last window of real freedom. Since then work has gradually, almost imperceptibly, taken
     over.
    I want to be a partner of Carter Spink, I say at last. Thats what I want. You have to
     make... sacrifices.
    And what happens when you make partner? she persists. Does it get easier?
    The truth is, I havent thought beyond making partner. Its like a dream. Like a shiny ball
     in the sky.
    Youre twenty-nine years old, for Christs sake! Freya gestures with a bony, silver- ringed
     hand. You should be able to do something spontaneous once in a while. You should be seeing
     the world! She grabs my arm. Samantha, come toIndia . Now!
    Do what? I give a startled laugh. I cant come to India !
    Take a month off. Why not? Theyre not going to fire you. Come to the airport, well get you
     a ticket...
    Freya, youre crazy. Seriously. I squeeze her arm. I love youbut youre crazy. Slowly,
     Freyas grip on my arm loosens. Same, she says. Youre crazy, but I love you.
    Her mobile starts ringing, but she ignores it. Instead, she rummages in her embroidered
     bag. At last she produces a tiny, intricately worked silver perfume bottle haphazardly
     wrapped in a piece of purple shot silk, which is already falling off.
    Here. She thrusts it at me.
    Freya. I turn it over in my fingers. Its amazing.
    I thought youd like it. She pulls her mobile out of her pocket. Hi! she says impatiently
     into it. Look, Lord, Ill be there, OK?
    Freyas husbands full name is Lord Andrew Edgerly. Freyas nickname for him started as a
     joke and stuck. They met five years ago on a kibbutz and got married inLas Vegas . Hes
     tall and phlegmatic and keeps Freya on track during her wilder moments. Hes also amazingly
     witty once you get past the deadpan exterior. Technically, their marriage makes her Lady
     Edgerlybut her family cant quite get their heads round this idea. Nor can the Edgerlys.
    Thanks for coming. Thanks for this. I hug her. Have a fabulous time inIndia .
    We will. Freya is climbing back into her taxi. And if you want to come out, just let me
     know. Invent a family emergency... anything. Give them my number. Ill cover for you.
     Whatever your story is.
    Go, I say, laughing, and give her a little push. Go toIndia .
    The door slams, and she sticks her head out the window.
    Sam... good luck for tomorrow. She seizes my hand, suddenly serious. If its really what
     you wantthen I hope you get it.
    Its what I want more than anything else. As I look at my oldest friend, all my calculated
     nonchalance disappears. Freya... I cant tell you how much I want it.
    Youll get it. I know you will. She kisses my hand, then waves good-bye. And dont go back
     to the office! Promise! she shouts over the roar of her taxi.
    OK! I promise! I yell back. I wait until her cab has disappeared, then stick my hand out
     for another.
    Carter Spink, please, I say as it pulls up.
    I was crossing my fingers. Of course Im going back to the office.
    I arrive home at eleven oclock, exhausted and brain-dead, having got through only about
     half of Kettermans file. Bloody Ketterman, Im thinking, as I push open the main front door
     of the 1930s-mansion block where I live. Bloody Ketterman. Bloody... bloody...
    Good evening, Samantha.
    I nearly jump a mile. Its Ketterman. Right there, standing in front of the