Can You Keep a Secret?

'So, you work for this company, Jack?' says Dad, pouring him a glass of wine.

'In a way,' says Jack after a pause. 'You could say … I used to.'

'Are you between jobs?' says Mum tactfully.

'You could put it like that, I guess.' His face crinkles in a little smile'.

'Oh dear!' says Mum sympathetically. 'What a shame. Still, I'm sure something will come up.'

Oh God. She has absolutely no idea who he is. None of my family has any idea who Jack is.

I'm really not at all sure I like this.

'I saw Danny Nussbaum the other day in the post office, Emma,' adds Mum, briskly slicing some tomatoes. 'He asked after you.'

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Jack's eyes brightening.

'Gosh!' I say, my cheeks growing hot. 'Danny Nussbaum! I haven't thought about him for ages.'

'Danny and Emma used to step out together,' Mum explains to Jack with a fond smile. 'Such a nice boy. Very bookish. He and Emma used to study together in her bedroom, all afternoon.'

I cannot look at Jack. I cannot.

'You know … Ben Hur's a fine film,' Jack suddenly says in thoughtful tones. 'A very fine film.' He smiles at Mum. 'Don't you think?'

I am going to kill him.

'Er … yes!' says Mum, a bit confused. 'Yes, I've always liked Ben Hur.' She cuts Jack a huge chunk of quiche and adds a slice of tomato. 'So, Jack,' she says sympathetically as she hands him a paper plate. 'Are you getting by financially?'

'I'm doing OK,' Jack replies gravely.

Mum looks at him for a moment. Then she rummages in the picnic basket and produces another Sainsbury's quiche, still in its box.

'Take this,' she says, pressing it on him. 'And some tomatoes. They'll tide you over.'

'Oh no,' says Jack at once. 'Really, I couldn't—'

'I won't take no for an answer. I insist!'

'Well, that's truly kind.' Jack gives her a warm smile.

'You want some free career advice, Jack?' says Kerry, munching a piece of chicken.

My heart gives a nervous flip. Please, please don't try to get Jack to do the successful woman walk.

'Now, you want to listen to Kerry,' puts in Dad proudly. 'She's our star! She has her own company.'

'Is that so?' says Jack politely.

'My own travel agency,' says Kerry with a complacent smile. 'Started from scratch. Now we have forty staff and a turnover of just over two million. And you know what my secret is?'

'I … have no idea,' says Jack.

Kerry leans forward and fixes him with her blue eyes.

'Golf.'

'Golf!' echoes Jack.

'Business is all about networking,' says Kerry. 'It's all about contacts. I'm telling you, Jack, I've met most of the top businesspeople in the country on the golf course. Take any company. Take this company.' She spreads her arm around the scene. 'I know the top guy here. I could call him up tomorrow if I wanted to.'

I stare at her, frozen in horror.

'Really?' says Jack, sounding riveted. 'Is that so?'

'Oh yes.' She leans forward confidentially. 'And I mean, the top guy.'

'The top guy,' echoes Jack. 'I'm impressed.'

'Perhaps Kerry could put in a good word for you, Jack!' exclaims Mum in sudden inspiration. 'You'd do that, wouldn't you, Kerry love?'

I would burst into hysterical laughter. If it wasn't so completely and utterly hideous.

'I guess I'll have to take up golf without delay,' says Jack. 'Meet the right people.' He raises his eyebrows at me. 'What do you think, Emma?'

I can barely talk. I am beyond embarrassment. I just want to disappear into the rug and never be seen again.

'Mr Harper?' A voice interrupts and I breathe in relief. We all look up to see Cyril bending awkwardly down to Jack.

'I'm extremely sorry to interrupt, sir,' he says, glancing puzzledly around at my family as though trying to discern any reason at all why Jack Harper might be having a picnic with us. 'But Malcolm St John is here and would like a very brief word.'

'Of course,' says Jack, and smiles politely at Mum. 'If you could just excuse me a moment.'

As he carefully balances his glass on his plate and gets to his feet, the whole family exchanges confused glances.

'Giving him a second chance, then!' calls out Dad jocularly to Cyril.

'I'm sorry?' says Cyril, taking a couple of steps towards us.

'That chap Jack,' says Dad, gesturing to Jack, who's talking to a guy dressed in a navy blazer. 'You're thinking of taking him on again, are you?'

Cyril looks stiffly from Dad to me and back again.

'It's OK, Cyril!' I call lightly. 'Dad, shut up, OK?' I mutter. 'He owns the company.'

'What?' Everyone stares at me.

'He owns the company,' I say, my face hot. 'So just … don't make any jokes about him.'

'The man in the jester's suit owns the company?' says Mum, looking in surprise at Cyril.

'No! Jack does! Or at least, some great big chunk of it.' They're all still looking completely blank. 'Jack's one of the founders of the Panther Corporation!' I hiss in frustration. 'He was just trying to be modest.' 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">