Can You Keep A Secret?

urgent desire for him to hurry. Then, to my horror, he turns back.

'So, who is it?'

'It's… it's someone you don't know,' I say, crossing my fingers behind my back. 'Look, we'll

have lunch soon and have a good talk. Or something, I promise.'

'OK,' says Co

I watch, unable to breathe, as he shuts the gate behind him and walks slowly along the street.

Keep walking, keep walking… don't stop…

As he finally rounds the corner, Jack's silver car appears at the other end of the street.

'Oh my God,' says Lissy, staring at it.

'Don't!' I sink onto the stone wall. 'Lissy, I can't cope with this.'

I feel shaky. I think I need a drink. And I've only got mascara on one set of eyelashes, I

abruptly realize.

The silver car pulls up in front of the house, and out gets the same uniformed driver as before.

He opens the passenger door, and Jack steps out.

'Hi!' he says, looking taken aback to see me. 'Am I late?'

'No! I was just… um… sitting here. You know. Taking in the view.' I gesture across the road,

where I notice for the first time that a man with a huge belly is changing the wheel on his

caravan. 'Anyway!' I say, hastily standing up, 'Actually, I'm not quite ready. Do you want to

come up for a minute?'

'Sure,' says Jack with a smile. 'That would be nice.'

'And send your car away,' I add. 'You weren't supposed to have it!'

'You weren't supposed to be sitting outside your house and catch me out,' retorts Jack with a

grin. 'OK, Daniel, that's it for the night.' He nods to the driver. 'I'm in this lady's hands from

now on.'

'This is Lissy, my flatmate,' I say as the driver gets back into the car. 'Lissy, Jack.'

'Hi,' says Lissy with a self-conscious grin, as they shake hands.

As we make our way up the stairs to our flat, I'm suddenly aware of how narrow they are, and

how the cream paint on the walls is all scuffed, and the carpet smells of cabbage. Jack

probably lives in some enormous grand mansion. He probably has a marble staircase or

something.

But so what? We can't all have marble.

Anyway, it's probably awful. All cold and clattery. You probably trip on it all the time, and it

probably chips really easily-

'Emma, if you want to get ready, I'll fix Jack a drink,' says Lissy, with a smile that says: He's

nice!

'Thanks,' I say, shooting back an 'isn't he?' look. I hurry into my room and hurriedly start

applying mascara to my other eye.

A few moments later there's a little knock at my door.

'Hi!' I say, expecting Lissy. But in comes Jack, holding out a glass of sweet sherry.

'Oh, thanks!' I say gratefully. 'I could do with a drink.'

'I won't come in,' he says politely.

'No, it's fine. Sit down!'

I gesture to the bed, but it's covered with clothes. And my dressing table stool is piled high

with magazines. Damn, I should have tidied up a bit.

'I'll stand,' says Jack with a little smile. He takes a sip of what looks like whisky, and looks

around my room in fascination. 'So this is your room. Your world.'

'Yes.' I flush slightly, unscrewing my lip-gloss. 'It's a bit messy-'

'It's very nice. Very homey.' I can see him taking in the shoes piled in the corner, the fish

mobile hanging from my light, the mirror with necklaces strung over the side, and a new skirt

hanging on the wardrobe door.

'Cancer Research?' he says puzzledly, looking at the label. 'What does that-'

'It's a shop,' I say, a little defiantly. 'A second-hand shop.'

'Ah.' He nods in tactful comprehension. 'Nice bedcover,' he adds, smiling.

'It's ironic,' I say hastily. 'It's an ironic statement.'

God, how embarrassing. I should have changed it.

Now Jack's staring incredulously at my open dressing-table drawer, crammed with makeup.

'How many lipsticks do you have?'

'Er, a few…' I say, hastily closing it.

Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to let Jack come in here. He's picking up my Perfectil

vitamins, and examining them. I mean, what's so interesting about vitamins? Now he's looking

at Katie's crochet belt.

'What's this? A snake?'

'It's a belt,' I say, screwing up my face as I put in an earring. 'I know. It's hideous. I can't stand

crochet.'

Where's my other earring? Where?

Oh, OK, here it is. Now what's Jack doing?

I turn to see him looking in fascination at my exercise chart, which I put up in January after

I'd spent the entire Christmas eating Quality Street.

'"Monday, 7 a.m.",' he reads aloud. '"Brisk jog round block. Forty sit-ups. Lunch time: yoga

class. Evening: Pilates tape. Sixty sit-ups."' He takes a sip of whisky. 'Very impressive. You

do all this?'

'Well,' I say after a pause. 'I don't exactly manage every single … I mean, it was quite an

ambitious… you know… er… Anyway!' I quickly spritz myself with perfume. 'Let's go!'

I have to get him out of here quickly before he does something like spot a Tampax and ask me

what it is. I mean, honestly! Why on earth is he so interested in everything?

FIFTEEN

As we head out into the balmy evening, I feel light and happy with anticipation. Already

there's a completely different atmosphere from yesterday night. No scary cars; no posh

restaurants. It feels more casual. More fun.

'So,' says Jack, as we walk up to the main road. 'An evening out, Emma-style.'

'Absolutely!' I stick out my hand and hail a taxi, and give the name of the road in Clerkenwell

off which the little alley runs.

'We're allowed to go by taxi, are we?' says Jack mildly as we get in. 'We don't have to wait for

a bus?'

'As a very special treat,' I say with mock severity.

'So, are we eating? Drinking? Dancing?' says Jack, as we move off down the street.

'Wait and see!' I beam at him. 'I just thought we could have a really laid-back, spontaneous

evening.'

'I guess I over-pla

'No, it was lovely!' I say kindly. 'But sometimes you can put too much thought into things.

You know, sometimes it's better just to go with the flow and see what happens.'

'You're right.' Jack smiles. 'Well, I look forward to going with the flow.'

As we whiz along Upper Street, I feel quite proud of myself. It just shows I'm a true Londoner.

I can take my guests to little places off the beaten track. I can find spots which aren't just the

obvious venues to go. I mean, not that Jack's restaurant wasn't amazing. But how much cooler

will this be? A secret club! And I mean, who knows, Mado

After about twenty minutes we get to Clerkenwell. I insist on paying the taxi fare, and lead

Jack down the alley.

'Very interesting,' says Jack, looking around. 'So where are we heading?'

'Just wait,' I say enigmatically. I head for the door, press the buzzer and take Lissy's key out of

my pocket with a little frisson of excitement.

He is going to be so impressed. He is going to be so impressed!

'Hello?' comes a voice.

'Hello,' I say casually. 'I'd like to speak to Alexander, please.'

'Who?' says the voice.

'Alexander,' I repeat, and give a knowing smile. Obviously they have to double-check.

'Ees no Alexander here.'

'You don't understand. Al-ex-and-er,' I enunciate clearly.

'Ees no Alexander.'

Maybe I got the wrong door, it suddenly occurs to me. I mean, I remember it as being this one

— but maybe it was this other one with the frosted glass. Yes. That one looks quite familiar,