Can You Keep a Secret?

'Apparently, he hasn't had a relationship since Pete Laidler died,' says Artemis crisply. 'So I doubt you've got much of a chance.'

'Bad luck, Caroline,' says Nick, with a laugh.

I feel really uncomfortable, listening to this. Maybe I should leave the room until they've stopped. But then, maybe that would draw attention to myself.

Just for an instant, I find myself imagining what would happen if I stood up and said, 'Actually I had dinner with Jack Harper last night.' They'd all stare at me, dumbfounded, and maybe somebody would gasp, and …

Oh, who am I kidding? They wouldn't even believe me, would they? They'd say I was suffering from delusions.

'Hi, Connor,' comes Caroline's voice, interrupting my thoughts.

Connor? My head jerks up in slight dismay. And there he is, with no warning, approaching my desk with a wounded look on his face.

What's he doing here?

Has he found out about me and Jack?

My heart starts to thump hard and I nervously push my hair back. I've spotted him a couple of times around the building, but this is our first moment face to face, since we broke up.

'Hi,' he says.

'Hi,' I reply awkwardly, and there's silence.

Suddenly I notice my unfinished list of date ideas lying prominently on my desk. Shit. As casually as possible I reach for it, screw it up and nonchalantly drop it in the bin.

All the gossip about Sven and Jack has petered out. I know everyone in the office is listening to us, even if they're pretending to be doing something else. It's like we're the in-house soap opera or something.

And I know which character I am. I'm the heartless bitch who chucked her lovely, decent man for no good reason.

Oh God. The thing is, I do feel guilty, I really do. Every time I see Connor, or even think about him, I get a horrible tight feeling in my chest. But does he have to have such an expression of injured dignity on his face? A kind of you've-mortally-wounded-me-but-I'm-such-a-good-person-I-forgive-you look.

I can feel my guilt ebbing away and annoyance starting to ebb in.

'I only came up,' says Connor at last, 'because I'd put us down to do a stint on the Pimm's stall together at the Corporate Family Day. Obviously when I did so, I thought we'd be—', He breaks off, looking more wounded than ever. 'Anyway. But I don't mind going through with it. If you don't.'

I'm not going to be the one to say I can't bear to stand next to him for half an hour.

'I don't mind!' I say.

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

There's another awkward pause.

'I found your blue shirt, by the way,' I say, with a tiny shrug. 'I'll bring it in.'

'Thanks. I think I've got some stuff of yours, too …'

'Hey,' says Nick, coming over towards us with a wicked, eyes gleaming, let's-shit-stir expression. 'I saw you with someone last night.'

My heart gives a huge, terrified bound. Fuck! Fuck fuck OK … OK … It's OK. He's not looking at me. He's looking at Connor.

Who the hell'was Connor with?

'That was just a friend,' says Connor stiffly.

'Are you sure?' says Nick. 'You looked pretty friendly to me.'

'Shut up, Nick,' says Connor, looking pained. 'It's far too early to be thinking of … moving on. Isn't it, Emma?'

'Er … yes.' I swallow several times. 'Absolutely. Definitely.'

Oh God.

Anyway. Never mind. I'm not going to worry about Connor. I have an important date to think about. And thank goodness, by the end of the day I have at last come up with the perfect venue. In fact I'm amazed I didn't think of it before! There is one tiny little hitch — but I'll easily overcome it.

Sure enough, it only takes me about half an hour to persuade Lissy that when they said 'The key shall in no circumstances be transferred to any non-member' in the rules, they didn't really mean it. At last she reaches into her bag and hands it to me, an anxious expression on her face.

'Don't lose it!'

'I won't! Thanks, Liss.' I give her a hug. 'Honestly, I'll do the same for you when I'm a member of an exclusive club.'

'You remember the password, don't you?'

'Yes. Alexander.'

'Where are you going?' says Jemima, coming into my room all dressed up to go out. She gives me a critical look. 'Nice top. Where's it from?'

'Oxfam. I mean, Whistles.'

I've decided tonight I'm not even going to try to borrow anything from Jemima. I'm going to wear all my own clothes, and if Jack doesn't like it, he can lump it.

'I was meaning to ask,' Jemima says, narrowing her eyes. 'You two didn't go into my room last night, did you?'

'No,' says Lissy innocently. 'Why, did it look like we had?'

Jemima was out until three, and by the time she got back, everything was back in place. Sellotape and everything. We couldn't have been more careful.

'No,' admits Jemima reluctantly. 'Nothing was out of place. But I just got a feeling. As though someone had been in there.' ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">