Can You Keep A Secret?

actually.

'Tiny hitch,' I smile at Jack, and press the new bell.

There's silence. I wait a few minutes, then try again, and again. There's no reply. OK. So…

it's not this one either.

Fuck.

I am a moron. Why didn't I check the address? I was just so sure I'd remember where it was.

'Is there a problem?' says Jack.

'No!' I say at once, and smile brightly. 'I'm just trying to recall exactly…'

I look up and down the street, trying not to panic. Which one was it? Am I going to have to

ring every single doorbell in the street? I take a few steps along the pavement, trying to trigger

my memory. And then, through an arch, I spy another alley, almost identical to this one.

I feel a huge thud of horror. Am I in the right alley, even? I dart forward and peer into the

other alley. It looks exactly the same. Rows of nondescript doors and blanked-out windows.

My heart starts to beat more quickly. What am I going to do? I can't try every single doorbell

in every bloody alley in the vicinity. It never once occurred to me that this might happen. Not

once. I never even thought to-

OK, I'm being stupid. I'll call Lissy! She'll tell me. I pull out my mobile and dial home, but

immediately it clicks onto answerphone.

'Hi, Lissy, it's me,' I say, trying to sound light and casual. 'A tiny little hitch has happened,

which is that I can't remember exactly which door the club is behind. Or actually… which

alley it's in either. So if you get this, could you give me a call? Thanks!'

I look up to see Jack watching me.

'Everything OK?'

'Just a slight glitch,' I say, and give a relaxed little laugh. 'There's this secret club along here

somewhere, but I can't quite remember where.'

'Never mind,' says Jack nicely. 'These things happen.'

I jab the number for home again, but it's engaged. Quickly I dial Lissy's mobile number, but

it's switched off.

Oh fuck. Fuck. We can't stand here in the street all night.

'Emma,' says Jack cautiously. 'Would you like me to make a reservation at-'

'No!' I jump as though stung. Jack's not going to reserve anything. I've said I'll organize this

evening, and I will. 'No thanks. It's OK.' I make a snap decision. 'Change of plan. We'll go to

Antonio's instead.'

'I could call the car…' begins Jack.

'We don't need the car!' I stride purposefully towards the main road and thank God, a taxi's

coming along with its light on. I flag it down, open the door for Jack and say to the driver,

'Hi, Antonio's on Sanderstead Road in Clapham, please.'

Hurrah. I have been grown-up and decisive and saved the situation.

'Where's Antonio's?' says Jack, as the taxi begins to speed away.

'It's a bit out of the way, in south London. But it's really nice. Lissy and I used to go there

when we lived in Wandsworth. It's got huge pine tables, and gorgeous food, and sofas and

stuff. And they never chivvy you.'

'It sounds perfect.' Jack smiles, and I smile proudly back.

OK, it should not take this long to get from Clerkenwell to Clapham. We should have got

there ages ago. I mean, it's only down the road!

After about half an hour, I lean forward and say to the driver yet again, 'Is there a problem?'

'Traffic, love.' He gives an easy shrug. 'What can you do?'

You can find a clever traffic-avoiding back route like taxi drivers are supposed to! I want to

yell furiously. But instead I say politely, 'So… how long do you think it'll be before we get

there?'

'Who knows?'

I sink back on my seat, feeling my stomach churning with frustration.

We should have gone somewhere in Clerkenwell. Or Covent Garden. I am such a moron…

'Emma, don't worry,' says Jack. 'I'm sure it'll be great when we get there.'

'I hope so,' I say with a weak smile.

I can't make small talk. I'm using every ounce of concentration in willing the taxi to go faster.

I stare out of the window, giving an inward cheer every time the postcodes on the street signs

get closer to where we want to be. SW3… SW11… SW4!

At last! We're in Clapham. Nearly there…

Shit. Another bloody red traffic light. I almost can't keep still on my seat And the driver's just

sitting there, like it doesn't matter.

OK, it's green! Go! Go now!

But he's pulling off in this leisurely way, as though we've got all day… he's chuntering down

the street… now he's giving way to another driver! What is he doing?

OK. Calm down, Emma. Here's the street. We're finally here.

'So this is it!' I say, trying to sound relaxed as we get out of the taxi. 'Sorry it took a while.'

'No problem,' says Jack. 'This place looks great!'

As I hand the fare to the taxi driver, I have to admit I'm pretty pleased we came. Antonio's

looks absolutely amazing! There are fairy lights decorating the familiar green facade, and

helium balloons tied to the canopy, and music and laughter spilling out of the open door. I can

even hear people singing inside.

'It's not normally quite this buzzing!' I say with a laugh, and head for the door. I can already

see Antonio standing just inside.

'Hi!' I say as I push the door open. 'Antonio!'

'Emma!' says Antonio, who's standing by the door holding a glass of wine. His cheeks are

flushed and he's beaming even more widely than usual. 'Bellissima!' He kisses me on each

cheek, and I feel a flood of warm relief. I was right to come here. I know the management.

They'll make sure we have a wonderful time.

'This is Jack,' I say, gri

'Jack! Wonderful to meet you!' Antonio kisses Jack on each cheek too, and I giggle.

'So, could we have a table for two?'

'Ah…' He pulls a face of regret. 'Sweetheart, we're closed!'

'What?' I stare back at him, baffled. 'But… but you're not closed. People are here!' I look

around at all the merry faces.

'It's a private party!' He raises his glass to someone across the room and shouts something in

Italian. 'My nephew's wedding. You ever meet him? Guido. He served here a few summers

ago.'

'I… I'm not sure.'

'He met a lovely girl at the law school. You know, he's qualified now. You ever need legal

advice…'

'Thanks. Well… congratulations.'

'I hope the party goes well,' says Jack, and squeezes my arm briefly. 'Never mind, Emma, you

couldn't have known.'

'Darling, I'm sorry!' says Antonio, seeing my face. 'Another night, I'll give you the best table

we have. You call in advance, you let me know…'

'I'll do that,' I manage a smile. 'Thanks, Antonio.'

I can't even look at Jack. I dragged him all the way down to bloody Clapham for this.

I have to redeem this situation. Quickly.

'We'll go to the pub,' I say as soon as we're outside on the pavement. 'I mean, what's wrong

with just sitting down with a nice drink?'

'Sounds good,' says Jack mildly, and follows me as I hurry down the street to a sign reading

The Nag's Head, and push the door open. I've never been in this pub before, but surely it's

bound to be fairly-

OK. Maybe not.

This has to be the grimmest pub I've ever seen in my life. Threadbare carpet, no music, and

with no signs of life except a single man with a paunch.

I ca

'Right!' I say, swinging the door shut again, 'Let's think again.' I quickly look up and down the

street, but apart from Antonio's everything is shut except for a couple of grotty takeaway

places and a minicab firm. 'Well… let's just grab a taxi and head back to town!' I say, with a

kind of shrill brightness. 'It won't take too long.'