Can You Keep A Secret?

everything I did, he wanted to get into my life! Look at the way he came and poked around

my bedroom. No wonder he seemed so bloody interested. I expect he was taking notes all the

time. I expect he had a Dictaphone in his pocket. And I just… invited him in.' I take a deep

gulp of schnapps and give a little shudder. 'I am never going to trust a man again. Never.'

'But he seemed so nice!' says Lissy dolefully. 'I just can't believe he was being so cynical.'

'Lissy…' I look up. 'The truth is, a man like that doesn't get to the top without being ruthless

and trampling over people. It just doesn't happen.'

'Doesn't it?' She stares back at me, her brow crumpled. 'Maybe you're right. God, how

depressing.'

'Is that Emma?' comes a piercing voice, and Jemima appears on the balcony in a white robe

and face mask, her eyes narrowed furiously. 'So! Miss I-never-borrow-your-clothes. What

have you got to say about my Prada slingbacks?'

Oh God. There's no point lying about it, is there?

'They're really pointy and uncomfortable?' I say with a little shrug, and Jemima inhales

sharply.

'I knew it! I knew it all along. You do borrow my clothes. What about my Joseph jumper?

What about my Gucci bag?'

'Which Gucci bag?' I shoot back defiantly.

For moment Jemima flounders for words.

'All of them!' she says at last. 'You know, I could sue you for this. I could take you to the

cleaners!' She brandishes a piece of paper at me. 'I've got a list here of items of apparel which

I fully suspect have been worn by someone other than me during the last three months-'

'Oh shut up about your stupid clothes,' says Lissy. 'Emma's really upset. She's been

completely betrayed and humiliated by the man she thought loved her.'

'Well, surprise, surprise, let me just faint with shock,' says Jemima tartly. 'I could have told

you that was going to happen. I did tell you! Never tell a man all about yourself, it's bound to

lead to trouble. Did I not warn you?'

'You said she wouldn't get a rock on her finger!' exclaims Lissy. 'You didn't say, he will pitch

up on television, telling the nation all her private secrets. You know, Jemima, you could be a

bit more sympathetic.'

'No, Lissy, she's right,' I say miserably. 'She was completely right all along. If I'd just kept my

stupid mouth shut, then none of this would have happened.' I reach for the schnapps bottle and

morosely pour myself another glass. 'Relationships are a battle. They are a chess game. And

what did I do? I just threw all my chess pieces down on the board at once, and said, "Here!

Have them all!"' I take a gulp of my drink. 'The truth is, men and women should tell each

other nothing. Nothing.'

'I couldn't agree more,' says Jemima. 'I'm pla

possible-' She breaks off as the cordless phone in her hand gives a shrill ring.

'Hi!' she says, switching it on. 'Camilla? Oh. Er… OK. Just hang on a moment.'

She puts her hand over the receiver and looks at me, wide-eyed. 'It's Jack!' she mouths.

I stare back in utter shock.

Somehow I'd almost forgotten Jack existed in real life. All I can see is that face on the

television screen, smiling and nodding and slowly leading me to my humiliation.

'Tell him Emma doesn't want to speak to him!' hisses Lissy.

'No! She should speak to him,' hisses back Jemima. 'Otherwise he'll think he's won.'

'But surely-'

'Give it to me!' I say, and grab the phone out of Jemima's hand, my heart thumping. 'Hi,' I say,

in as curt a tone as I can muster.

'Emma, it's me,' comes Jack's familiar voice, and with no warning, I feel a rush of emotion

which almost overwhelms me. I want to cry. I want to hit him, hurt him…

But somehow, I keep control of myself.

'I never want to speak to you again,' I say. I switch off the phone, breathing rather hard.

'Well done!' says Lissy.

An instant later the phone rings again.

'Please, Emma,' says Jack, 'just listen for a moment. I know you must be very upset. But if

you just give me a second to explain-'

'Didn't you hear me?' I exclaim, my face flushing. 'You used me and you humiliated me and I

never want to speak to you again, or see you, or hear you or… or…'

'Taste you,' hisses Jemima, nodding urgently.

'… or touch you again. Never ever. Ever.' I switch off the phone, march inside and yank the

line out of the wall. Then, with trembling hands, I get my mobile out of my bag and, just as it

begins to ring, switch it off.

As I emerge on the balcony again, I'm still half shaking with shock. I can't quite believe it's all

ended like this. In one day, my entire perfect romance has crumbled into nothing.

'Are you OK?' says Lissy anxiously.

'I'm fine. I think.' I sink onto a chair. 'A bit shaky.'

'Now, Emma,' says Jemima, examining one of her cuticles. 'I don't want to rush you. But you

know what you have to do, don't you?'

'What?'

'You have to get your revenge!' She looks up and fixes me with a determined gaze. 'You have

to make him pay.'

'Oh no.' Lissy pulls a face. 'Isn't revenge really undignified? Isn't it better just to walk away?'

'What good is walking away?' retorts Jemima. 'Will walking away teach him a lesson? Will

walking away make him wish he'd never crossed you?'

'Emma and I have always agreed we'd rather keep the moral high ground,' says Lissy

determinedly. '"Living well is the best revenge." George Herbert.'

Jemima stares at her blankly for a few seconds.

'So anyway,' she says at last, turning back to me. 'I'd be delighted to help. Revenge is actually

quite a speciality of mine, though I say it myself…'

I avoid Lissy's eyes.

'What did you have in mind?'

'Scrape his car, shred his suits, sew fish inside his curtains and wait for them to rot…' Jemima

reels off instantly, as though reciting poetry.

'Did you learn that at finishing school?' says Lissy, rolling her eyes.

'I'm being a feminist, actually,' retorts Jemima. 'We women have to stand up for our rights.

You know, before she married my father, Mummy went out with this scientist chap who

practically jilted her. He changed his mind three weeks before the wedding, can you believe

it? So one night she crept into his lab and pulled out all the plugs of his stupid machines. His

whole research was ruined! She always says, that taught Emerson!'

'Emerson?' says Lissy, staring at her in disbelief. 'As in… Emerson Davies?'

'That's right! Davies.'

'Emerson Davies who nearly discovered a cure for smallpox?'

'Well, he shouldn't have messed Mummy about, should he?' says Jemima, lifting her chin

mutinously. She turns to me. 'Another of Mummy's tips is chilli oil. You somehow arrange to

have sex with the chap again, and then you say. "How about a little massage oil?" And you

rub it into his… you know.' Her eyes sparkle. 'That'll hurt him where it counts!'

'Your mother told you this?' says Lissy.

'Yes,' says Jemima. 'It was rather sweet, actually. On my eighteenth birthday she sat me down

and said we should have a little chat about men and women-'

Lissy is staring at her incredulously.

'In which she instructed you to rub chilli oil into men's genitals?'

'Only if they treat you badly,' says Jemima in a

you think you should just let men walk all over you and get away with it? Great blow for

feminism.'

'I'm not saying that,' says Lissy. 'I just wouldn't get my revenge with… chilli oil!'