Can You Keep A Secret?

Co

awful atmosphere in the lift, and my stomach turns over. What if it's really awkward? What if

he's angry with me?

I don't have to go, I remind myself. He did give me an out. I could easily phone his secretary

and say, 'Sorry, I couldn't find the Leopold file,' and that would be the end.

For an instant I hesitate on the marble stairs, my fingers tightly clutching the cardboard. And

then I carry on walking.

As I near the door of Jack's office I see that it's being guarded not by one of the secretaries,

but by Sven.

Oh God. I know Jack has said he's his oldest friend, but I can't help it. I do find this guy

creepy.

'Hi,' I say. 'Er… Mr Harper asked me to bring up the Leopold file.'

Sven looks at me, and for an instant it's as if a little silent communication is passing between

us. He knows, doesn't he? He probably uses the Leopold file code himself. He picks up his

phone and after a moment says, 'Jack, Emma Corrigan here with the Leopold file.' Then he

puts down the phone, and without smiling, says, 'Go straight in.'

I walk in, feeling prickly with self-consciousness. The room is huge and panelled, and Jack's

sitting behind a big wooden desk. When he looks up, his eyes are warm and friendly, and I

feel myself relax just the teeniest bit.

'Hello,' he says'.

'Hello,' I reply, and there's a short silence.

'So, um, here's the Leopold file,' I say, and hand him the cardboard folder.

'The Leopold file.' He laughs. 'Very good.' Then he opens it and looks at the sheet of paper in

surprise. 'What's this?'

'It's a… it's a letter from Mr Leopold of Leopold and Company.'

'You composed a letter from Mr Leopold?' He sounds astonished, and suddenly I feel really

stupid.

'Just in case I dropped the file on the floor and someone saw,' I mumble. 'I thought I'd just

quickly make something up. It's not important.' I try to take it back, but Jack moves it out of

my reach.

'"From the office of Ernest P. Leopold",' he reads aloud, and his face crinkles in delight. 'I see

he wishes to order 6,000 cases of Panther Cola. Quite a customer, this Leopold.'

'It's for a corporate event,' I explain. 'They normally use Pepsi, but recently one of their

employees tasted Panther Cola, and it was so good…'

'They simply had to switch,' finishes Jack. '"May I add that I am delighted with all aspects of

your company, and have taken to wearing a Panther jogging suit, which is quite the most

comfortable sportswear I have ever known."' He stares at the letter, then looks up with a smile.

To my surprise, his eyes are shining slightly. 'You know, Pete would have adored this.'

'Pete Laidler?' I say hesitantly.

'Yup. It was Pete who came up with the whole Leopold file manoeuvre. This was the kind of

stuff he did all the time.' He taps the letter. 'Can I keep it?'

'Of course,' I say, a little taken aback.

He folds it up and puts it in his pocket, and for a few moments there's silence.

'So,' says Jack at last. He raises his head and looks at me with an unreadable expression. 'You

broke up with Co

My stomach gives a flip. I don't know what to say.

'So.' I lift my chin defiantly. 'You decided to stay.'

'Yes, well…' He stretches out his fingers and studies them briefly. 'I thought I might take a

closer look at some of the European subsidiaries.' He looks up. 'How about you?'

He wants me to say I chucked Co

way.

'Same reason.' I nod. 'European subsidiaries.'

Jack's mouth twitches reluctantly into a smile.

'I see. And are you… OK?'

'I'm fine. Actually, I'm enjoying the freedom of being single again.' I gesture widely with my

arms. 'You know, the liberation, the flexibility…'

'That's great. Well then, maybe this isn't a good time to…' He stops.

'To what?' I say, a little too quickly.

'I know you must be hurting right now,' he says carefully. 'But I was wondering.' He pauses

for what seems like for ever, and I can feel my heart thumping hard against my ribs. 'Would

you like to have di

He's asked me out. He's asked me out.

I almost can't move my mouth.

'Yes,' I say at last. 'Yes, that would be lovely.'

'Great!' He pauses. 'The only thing is, my life is kind of complicated right now. And what

with our office situation…' He spreads his hands. 'It might be an idea to keep this to

ourselves.'

'Oh, I completely agree,' I say quickly. 'We should be discreet.'

'So shall we say… how about tomorrow night? Would that suit you?'

'Tomorrow night would be perfect.'

'I'll come and pick you up. If you email me your address. Eight o'clock?'

'Eight it is!'

As I leave Jack's office, Sven glances up and raises his eyebrows, but I don't say anything. I

head back to the marketing department, trying as hard as I can to keep my face dispassionate

and calm. But excitement is bubbling away in my stomach, and a huge smile keeps licking

over my face.

Oh my God. Oh my God. I'm going out to di

Oh, who am I kidding? I knew this was going to happen. As soon as I heard he hadn't gone to

America. I knew.

TWELVE

I have never seen Jemima look quite so appalled.

'He knows all your secrets?' She's looking at me as though I've just proudly informed her I'm

going out with a mass-murderer. 'What on earth do you mean?'

'I sat next to him on a plane, and I told him everything about myself.'

I frown at my reflection in the mirror and tweak out another eyebrow hair. It's seven o'clock,

I've had my bath, I've blow-dried my hair and now I'm on my makeup.

'And now he's asked her out,' says Lissy, hugging her knees. 'Isn't it romantic?'

'You are joking, aren't you?' says Jemima, looking aghast. 'Tell me this is a joke.'

'Of course I'm not joking! What's the problem?'

'You're going out with a man who knows everything about you.'

'Yes.'

'And you're asking me what's the problem?' Her voice rises incredulously. 'Are you crazy?'

'Of course I'm not crazy!'

'I knew you fancied him,' says Lissy for about the millionth time. 'I knew it. Right from the

moment you started talking about him.' She looks at my reflection. 'I'd leave that right

eyebrow alone now.'

'Really?' I peer at my face.

'Emma, you don't tell men all about yourself! You have to keep something back! Mummy

always told me, you should never let a man see your feelings or the contents of your handbag.'

'Well, too late,' I say, slightly defiantly. 'He's seen it all.'

'Then it's never going to work,' says Jemima. 'He'll never respect you.'

'Yes he will.'

'Emma,' says Jemima, almost pityingly. 'Don't you understand? You've already lost.'

'I haven't lost!'

Sometimes I think Jemima sees men not as people, but as alien robots, who must be

conquered by any means possible.

'You're not being very helpful, Jemima,' puts in Lissy. 'Come on. You've been on loads of

dates with rich businessmen. You must have some good advice!'

'All right.' Jemima sighs, and puts her bag down. 'It's a hopeless cause, but I'll do my best.'

She starts ticking off on her fingers. 'The first thing is to look as well groomed as possible.'

'Why do you think I'm plucking my eyebrows?' I say with a grimace.