Can You Keep A Secret?

This flat has wooden floors and shutters! I've always wanted wooden floors and shutters. And

look at that cool kitchen, with all granite worktops…

Oh, this is going to be so great. I can't wait!

I take a happy slug of wine, and am just sinking comfortably back when Co

Isn't it exciting about Jack Harper coming over.'

Oh God. Please. Not more talk about bloody Jack Harper.

'Did you get to meet him?' he adds, coming over with a bowl of peanuts. 'I heard he went into

Marketing.'

'Um, yes, I met him.'

'He came into Research this afternoon, but I was at a meeting.' Co

what's he like?'

'He's… I don't know. Dark hair… American… So how did the meeting go?'

Co

'Isn't it exciting, though?' His face is glowing. 'Jack Harper!'

'I suppose so.' I shrug. 'Anyway-'

'Emma! Aren't you excited?' Co

company! We're talking about the man who came up with the concept of Panther Cola. Who

took an unknown brand, repackaged it and sold it to the world! He turned a failing company

into a huge, successful corporation. And now we're all getting to meet him. Don't you find

that thrilling?'

'Yes,' I say at last. 'It's… thrilling.'

'This could be the opportunity of a lifetime for all of us. To learn from the genius himself!

You know, he's never written a book, he's never shared his thoughts with anyone except Pete

Laidler…' He reaches into the fridge for a can of Panther Cola and cracks it open. Co

to be the most loyal employee in the world. I once bought a Pepsi when we were out on a

picnic, and he nearly had a hernia.

'You know what I would love above anything?' he says, taking a gulp. 'A one-to-one with

him.' He looks at me, his eyes shining. 'A one-to-one with Jack Harper! Wouldn't that be the

most fantastic career boost?'

A one-to-one with Jack Harper.

Yup, that boosted my career great.

'I suppose,' I say reluctantly.

'Of course it would be! Just having the chance to listen to him. To hear what he has to say! I

mean, the guy's been shut away for three years. What ideas must he have been generating all

this time? He must have so many insights and theories, not just about marketing, but about

business… about the way people work… about life itself.'

Co

spectacularly I have played this wrong, shall we? I'm sitting on a plane next to the great Jack

Harper, creative genius and source of all wisdom on business and marketing, not to mention

the great mysteries of life itself.

And what do I do? Do I ask him insightful questions? Do I engage him in intelligent

conversation? Do I learn anything from him at all?

No. I blabber on about what kind of underwear I prefer.

Great career move, Emma. One of the best.

The next day, Co

magazine article about Jack Harper.

'Read this,' he says, through a mouthful of toast. 'It's good background information.'

I don't want any background information! I feel like retorting, but Co

door.

I'm tempted to leave it behind and not even bother looking at it, but it's quite a long journey

from Co

with me, and grudgingly start reading it on the tube, and I suppose it is quite an interesting

story. How Harper and Pete Laidler were friends, and they decided to go into business, and

Jack was the creative one and Pete was the extrovert playboy one, and they became

multimillionaires together, and they were so close they were practically like brothers. And

then Pete was killed in a car crash. And Jack was so devastated he shut himself away from the

world and said he was giving it all up.

And of course now I read all this I'm starting to feel a bit stupid. I should have recognized

Jack Harper. I mean, I certainly recognize Pete Laidler. For one thing he looks — looked — just

like Robert Redford. And for another, he was all over the papers when he died. I can

remember it vividly now, even though I had nothing to do with the Panther Corporation then.

He crashed his Mercedes, and everyone said it was just like Princess Diana.

I'm so busy reading, I nearly miss my stop and have to make one of those stupid dashes for

the doors, where everyone looks at you like: You complete moron, did you not know that

your stop was coming up? And then, as the doors close, I realize I've left the article behind on

the tube.

Oh well. I'd kind of got the gist of it.

It's a bright sunshiny morning, and I head towards the juice bar where I usually pop in before

work. I've got into the habit of picking up a mango smoothie every morning, because it's

healthy.

And also because there is a very cute New Zealand guy who works behind the counter, called

Aidan. (In fact, I had a miniature crush on him, before I started going out with Co

he isn't working in the smoothie bar he's doing a course on sports science, and he's always

telling me stuff about essential minerals, and what your carb-ratio should be.

'Hiya,' he says as I come in. 'How's the kick-boxing going?'

'Oh!' I say, colouring slightly. 'It's great, thanks.'

'Did you try that new manoeuvre I told you about?'

'Yes! It really helped!'

'I thought it would,' he says, looking pleased, and goes off to make my mango smoothie.

OK. So the truth is, I don't really do kick-boxing. I did try it once, at our local leisure centre,

and to be honest, I was shocked! I had no idea it would be so violent. But Aidan was so

enthused about it, and kept saying how it would transform my life, I couldn't bring myself to

admit I'd given up after only one session. It just seemed so lame. So I kind of… fibbed. And I

mean, it's not like it matters. He'll never know. It's not as if I ever see him outside the

smoothie bar.

'That's one mango smoothie,' says Aidan.

'And a chocolate brownie,' I say. 'For… my colleague.' Aidan picks up the brownie and pops

it in a bag.

'You know, that colleague of yours needs to think about her refined sugar levels,' he says with

a concerned frown. 'That must be — four brownies this week?'

'I know,' I say earnestly. 'I'll tell her. Thanks, Aidan.'

'No problem!' says Aidan. 'And remember: one-two-swivel!'

'One-two-swivel,' I repeat brightly. 'I'll remember!'

As I arrive at the office, Paul appears out of his room, snaps his fingers at me and says,

'Appraisal.'

My stomach gives an almighty lurch, and I nearly choke on my last bite of chocolate brownie'.

Oh God. This is it. I'm not ready.

Yes I am. Come on. Exude confidence. I am a woman on her way somewhere.

Suddenly I remember Kerry and her 'I am a successful woman' walk. I know Kerry's an

obnoxious cow, but she does have her own travel agency and make zillions of pounds a year.

She must be doing something right. Maybe I should give it a go. Cautiously I stick out my

bust, lift my head and start striding across the office with a fixed, alert expression on my face.

'Have you got period pain or something?' says Paul crudely as I reach his door.

'No!' I say in shock.

'Well you look very odd. Now sit down.' He shuts the door, sits down at his desk and opens a

form marked Staff Appraisal Review. 'I'm sorry I couldn't see you yesterday. But what with