Can You Keep A Secret?

from Oliver, and someone is making an incomprehensible, crackly a

loudspeaker. I look around, squinting against the sun, trying to work out who everyone is

behind their disguises. I spot Paul walking along on the grass, dressed as a pirate, with three

small children hanging off his legs.

'Uncle Paul! Uncle Paul!' one is shrieking. 'Do your scary face again!'

'I want a lolly!' yells another. 'Uncle Paul, I want a lolleeee!'

'Hi, Paul,' I say miserably. 'Are you having a good time?'

'Whoever invented Corporate Family Days should be shot,' he says without a flicker of

humour. 'Get the hell off my foot!' he snaps at one of the children, and they all shriek with

delighted laughter.

'Mummy, I don't need to spend a pe

mermaid, in the company of a commanding woman in a huge hat.

'Artemis, there's no need to be so touchy!' booms the woman.

This is so weird. People with their families are completely different. Thank God mine aren't

here.

I wonder where Jack is. Maybe he's in the house. Maybe I should-

'Emma!' I look up, and see Katie heading towards me. She's dressed in a totally bizarre carrot

costume, holding the arm of an elderly man with grey hair. Who must be her father, I suppose.

Which is a bit weird, because I thought she said she was coming with-

'Emma, this is Phillip!' she says radiantly. 'Phillip, meet my friend Emma. She's the one who

brought us together!'

Wh— what?

No. I don't believe it.

This is her new man? This is Phillip? But he has to be at least seventy!

In a total blur, I shake his hand, which is dry and papery, just like Grandpa's, and manage to

make a bit of small talk about the weather. But all the time, I'm in total shock.

Don't get me wrong. I am not ageist. I am not anything-ist. I think people are all the same,

whether they're black or white, male or female, young or-

But he's an old man! He's old!

'Isn't he lovely?' says Katie fondly, as he goes off to get some drinks. 'He's so thoughtful.

Nothing's too much trouble. I've never been out with a man like him before!'

'I can believe that,' I say, my voice a little strangled. 'What exactly is the age gap between you

two?'

'I'm not sure,' says Katie in surprise. 'I've never asked. Why?'

Her face is shiny and happy and totally oblivious. Has she not noticed how old he is?

'No reason!' I clear my throat. 'So… er… remind me. Where exactly did you meet Phillip

again?'

'You know, silly!' says Katie, mock-chidingly. 'You suggested I should try somewhere

different for lunch, remember? Well, I found this really unusual place, tucked away in a little

street. In fact, I really recommend it.'

'Is it… a restaurant? A cafe?'

'Not exactly,' she says thoughtfully. 'I've never been anywhere like it before. You go in and

someone gives you a tray, and you collect your lunch and then eat it, sitting at all these tables.

And it only costs two pounds! And afterwards they have free entertainment! Like sometimes

it's bingo or whist… sometimes it's a singsong round the piano. One time they had this

brilliant tea dance! I've made loads of new friends.'

I stare at her for a few silent seconds.

'Katie,' I say at last. 'This place. It couldn't possibly be — a day care centre for the elderly?'

'Oh!' she says, looking taken aback. 'Erm…'

'Try and think. Is everyone who goes there on the… old side?'

'Gosh,' she says slowly, and screws up her brow. 'Now you mention it, I suppose everyone is

kind of quite… mature. But honestly Emma, you should come along.' Her face brightens. 'We

have a real laugh!'

'You're still going there?' I stare at her.

'I go every day,' she says in surprise. I'm on the social committee.'

'Hello again!' says Phillip cheerily, reappearing with three glasses. He beams at Katie and

gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she beams back. And suddenly I feel quite heart-warmed.

OK, it's weird. But they do seem to make a really sweet couple.

'The man behind the stall seemed rather stressed out, poor chap,' says Phillip, as I take my

first delicious sip of Pimm's, closing my eyes to savour it.

Mmm. There is absolutely nothing nicer on a summer's day than a nice cold glass of-

Hang on a minute. My eyes open. Pimm's.

Shit. I promised to do the Pimm's stall with Co

I'm already ten minutes late. Oh, bloody hell. No wonder he's stressed out.

I hastily apologize to Phillip and Katie, then hurry as fast as I can to the stall, which is in the

corner of the garden. There I find Co

He's dressed as Henry VIII, with puffy sleeves and breeches, and has a huge red beard stuck

to his face. He must be absolutely boiling.

'Sorry,' I mutter, sliding in beside him. 'I had to get into my costume. What do I have to do?'

'Pour out glasses of Pimm's,' says Co

manage?'

'Yes!' I say, a bit nettled. 'Of course I can manage!'

For the next few minutes we're too busy serving Pimm's to talk. Then the queue melts away,

and we're left on our own again.

Co

might break one. Why is he in such a bad mood?

'Co

'That's all right,' he says stiffly, and starts chopping a bundle of mint as though he wants to

kill it. 'So, did you have a nice time the other evening?'

That's what this is all about.

'Yes, I did, thanks,' I say after a pause.

'With your new mystery man.'

'Yes,' I say, and surreptitiously scan the crowded lawn, searching for Jack.

'It's someone at work, isn't it?' Co

'Why do you say that?' I say lightly.

'That's why you won't tell me who it is.'

'It's not that! It's just… look, Co

'I think I have a right to know who I've been dumped for.' He shoots me a reproachful look.

'No you don't!' I retort, then realize that sounds a bit mean. 'I just don't think it's very helpful

to discuss it.'

'Well, I'll work it out.' His jaw sets grimly. 'It won't take me long.'

'Co

'Emma, I'm not stupid.' He gives me an appraising look. 'I know you a lot better than you

think I do.'

I feel a flicker of uncertainty. Maybe I've und,erestimated Co

does know me. Oh God. What if he guesses?

I start to slice up a lemon, constantly sca

'I've got it,' says Co

Paul, isn't it?'

'What?' I gape back at him, wanting to laugh. 'No, it's not Paul! Why on earth should you

think it was Paul?'

'You keep looking at him.' He gestures to where Paul is standing nearby, moodily swigging a

bottle of beer. 'Every two minutes!'

'I'm not looking at him,' I say hurriedly. 'I'm just looking at… I'm just taking in the

atmosphere.'

'So why is he hanging around here?'

'He's not! Honestly, Co

'You think I'm a fool, don't you?' says Co

'I don't think you're a fool! I just… I think this is a pointless exercise. You're never going

to-'

'Is it Nick?' His eyes narrow. 'You and he have always had a bit of a spark going.'