Can You Keep a Secret? (17 page)

'Oh, OK!' I say, suddenly remembering. 'So if we're asking each other questions … what were you
really
doing with that guy Jean-Paul in your room?'

Lissy takes a breath.

'And don't tell me you were looking at case notes,' I add. 'Because that wouldn't make all that thumping bumping noise.'

'Oh!' says Lissy, looking cornered. 'OK. Well … we were …' She takes a gulp of coffee and avoids my gaze. 'We were … um … having sex.'

'What?' I stare at her, disconcerted.

'Yes. We were having sex. That's why I didn't want to tell you. I was embarrassed.'

'You and Jean-Paul were having sex?'

'Yes!' She clears her throat. 'We were having passionate … raunchy … animalistic sex.'

There's something wrong here.

'I don't believe you,' I say, giving her a long look. 'You weren't having sex.'

The pink dots on Lissy's cheeks deepen in colour.

'Yes we were!'

'No you weren't! Lissy, what were you
really
doing?'

'We were having sex, OK?' says Lissy agitatedly. 'He's my new boyfriend and … that's what we were doing! Now just leave me alone.' She gets up flusteredly, scattering raisin toast crumbs, and heads out of the room, tripping slightly on the rug.

I stare after her, completely agog.

Why is she lying? What on earth was she doing in there? What's more embarrassing than sex, for God's sake? I'm so intrigued I almost feel cheered up.

To be honest, it's not the greatest weekend of my life. It's made even less great when the post arrives and I get a postcard from Mum and Dad from Le Spa Meridien, telling me what a fantastic time they're having. And even
less
great when I read my horoscope in the
Mail
, and it tells me I may just have made a big mistake.

But by Monday morning, I'm feeling better. I
haven't
made a mistake. My new life starts today. I'm going to forget all about love and romance and concentrate on my career. Maybe I'll even look for a new job.

As I come out of the tube station, I start to like this idea a lot. I'll apply for a job as Marketing Executive at Coca-Cola or somewhere. And I'll get it. And Paul will suddenly realize what a terrible mistake he made, not promoting me. And he'll ask me to stay, but I'll say, 'It's too late. You had your chance.' And then he'll beg, 'Emma, is there anything I can do to change your mind?' And then
I'll
say—

By the time I reach the office, Paul is grovelling on the floor as I sit nonchalantly on his desk, holding one knee (I also seem to be wearing a new trouser suit and Prada shoes) saying, 'You know, Paul, all you had to do was treat me with a little respect—'

Shit, My eyes focus and I stop in my tracks, hand on the glass doors. There's a blond head in the foyer.

Connor. A wave of panic overcomes me. I can't go in there. I can't do it. I can't—

Then the head moves, and it's not Connor at all, it's Andrea from Accounts. I push the door open, feeling like a complete moron. God, I'm a mess. I have to get a grip of myself, because I will run into Connor before too long, and I'm just going to have to handle it.

At least no-one at work knows yet, I think as I walk up the stairs. That would make things a million times harder. To have people coming up to me and saying—

'Emma, I'm so sorry to hear about you and Connor!'

'What?' My head jerks up in shock and I see a girl called Nancy coming towards me.

'It was such a bolt from the blue! Of all the couples to split up, I would never have said you two. But it just shows, you never can tell …'

I stare at her dazedly.

'How … how do you know?'

'Oh, everyone knows!' says Nancy. 'You know there was a little drinks do on Friday night? Well, Connor came to it, and he got quite drunk. And he told everyone. In fact, he made a little speech!'

'He … he did what?'

'It was quite touching, really. It was all about how the Panther Corporation felt like his family, and how he knew we would all support him through this difficult time. And you, of course,' she adds as an afterthought. 'Although since you were the one who broke it off, Connor's really the wounded party.' She leans forward confidentially. 'I have to say, a lot of the girls were saying you must have a screw loose!'

I cannot believe this. Connor gave a speech about our break-up. After promising to keep it quiet. And now everyone's on
his
side.

'Right,' I say at last. 'Well, I'd better get on—'

'It just seems such a shame.' Nancy eyes me inquisitively. 'You two seemed so perfect!'

'I know we did.' I force a smile. 'Anyway. See you later.'

I head for the new coffee machine and am staring into space, trying to get my head round this, when a tremulous voice interrupts me.

'Emma?' I look up and my heart sinks. It's Katie, staring at me as though I've grown three heads.

'Oh hi!' I say, trying to sound breezy.

'Is it true?' she whispers. 'Is it true? Because I won't believe it's true until I hear you say it with your own lips.'

'Yes,' I say reluctantly. 'It's true. Connor and I have broken up.'

'Oh God.' Katie's breathing becomes quicker and quicker. 'Oh my God. It's true. Oh my God, oh my God, I really can't cope with this …'

Shit. She's hyperventilating. I grab an empty sugar bag and shove it over her mouth.

'Katie, calm down!' I say helplessly. 'Breathe in … and out …'

'I've been having panic attacks all weekend,' she manages, between breaths. 'I woke up last night in a cold sweat and I just thought to myself, if this is true, the world doesn't make sense any more. It simply makes no sense.'

'Katie, we broke up! That's all. People break up all the time.'

'But you and Connor weren't just people! You were
the
couple. I mean, if you can't make it, why should any of the rest of us bother even trying?'

'Katie, we weren't
the
couple!' I say, trying to keep my temper. 'We were
a
couple. And it went wrong, and … and these things happen.'

'But—'

'And to be honest, I'd rather not talk about it.'

'Oh,' she says, and stares at me over the bag. 'Oh God, of course. Sorry, Emma. I didn't … I just … you know, it was such a shock!'

'Come on, you haven't told me how your date with Phillip went yet,' I say firmly. 'Cheer me up with some good news.'

Katie's breathing has gradually calmed, and she removes the bag from her face.

'Actually, it went really well,' she says. 'We're going to see each other again!'

'Well there you go,' I say encouragingly.

'He's so charming. And gentle. And we have the same sense of humour, and we like the same things.' A bashful smile spreads across Katie's face. 'In fact, he's lovely!'

'He sounds wonderful! You see?' I squeeze her arm. 'You and Phillip will probably be a far better couple than Connor and I ever were. Do you want a coffee?'

'No thanks, I've got to go. We've got a meeting with Jack Harper about personnel. See you.'

'OK, see you,' I say absently.

About five seconds later, my brain clicks into gear.

'Wait a second.' I hurry down the corridor and grab her shoulder. 'Did you just say Jack Harper?'

'Yes.'

'But … but he's gone. He left on Friday.'

'No he didn't. He changed his mind.'

I stare at her in disbelief.

'He changed his mind?'

'Yes.'

'So …' I swallow. 'So he's here?'

'Of course he's here!' says Katie with a laugh. 'He's upstairs.'

Suddenly my legs won't work properly.

'Why …' I clear my throat, which has gone a little husky. 'Why did he change his mind?'

'Who knows?' Katie shrugs. 'He's the boss. He can do what he likes, can't he? Mind you, he seems very down to earth.' She reaches into her pocket for a packet of gum, and offers it to me. 'He was really nice to Connor after he gave his little speech …'

I feel a fresh jolt.

'Jack Harper heard Connor's speech? About us breaking up?'

'Yes! He was standing right next to him.' Katie unwraps her gum. 'And afterwards he said something really nice like he could just imagine how Connor was feeling. Wasn't that sweet?'

I need to sit down. I need to think. I need to …

'Emma, are you OK?' says Katie in dismay. 'God, I'm so insensitive—'

'No. It's fine,' I say dazedly. 'I'm fine. I'll see you later.'

My mind is whirling as I walk into the marketing department.

This is not the way it was supposed to happen. Jack Harper was supposed to be back in America. He was supposed to have no idea that I went straight home from our conversation and chucked Connor.

I feel a smart of humiliation. He'll think I chucked Connor because of what he said to me in the lift, won't he? He'll think it was all because of him. Which it wasn't. It so
wasn't
.

At least, not completely …

Maybe that's why …

No
. It's ridiculous to think that his staying has anything to do with me. Ridiculous. I don't know why I'm so jumpy.

As I near my desk, Artemis looks up from a copy of
Marketing Week
.

'Oh Emma. I was sorry to hear about you and Connor.'

'Thanks,' I say. 'But I don't really want to talk about it if that's OK.'

'Fine,' says Artemis. 'Whatever. I was just being polite.' She looks at a Post-It on her desk. 'There's a message for you from Jack Harper, by the way.'

'What?' I start.

Shit. I didn't mean to sound so rattled. 'I mean, what is it?' I add more calmly.

'Could you please take the –' She squints at the paper. '– the Leopold file to his office. He said you'd know what it was. But if you can't find it, it doesn't matter.'

I stare at her, my heart hammering in my chest.

The Leopold file.

It was just an excuse to get away from our desks …

It's a secret code. He wants to see me.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

I have never been more excited and thrilled and petrified. All at once.

I sit down and stare at my blank screen for a minute. Then with trembling fingers I take out a blank file. I wait until Artemis has turned away, then write 'Leopold' on the side of it, trying to disguise my handwriting.

Now what do I do?

Well, it's obvious. I take it upstairs to his office.

Unless … Oh fuck. Am I being really, really stupid here? Is there a real Leopold file?

Hastily I go into the company database and do a quick search for 'Leopold'. But nothing comes up.

OK. I was right first time.

I'm about to push my chair back when I suddenly have a paranoid thought. What if someone stops me and asks what the Leopold file is? Or what if I drop it on the floor and everyone sees it's empty?

Quickly, I open a new document, invent a fancy letterhead and type a letter from a Mr Ernest P. Leopold to the Panther Corporation. I send it over to print, stroll over to the printer and whisk it out before anyone else can see what it is. Not that anyone else is remotely interested.

'Right,' I say casually, tucking it into the cardboard folder. 'Well, I'll just take that file up, then …'

Artemis doesn't even raise her head.

As I walk along the corridors my stomach is churning, and I feel all prickly and self-conscious, as though everyone in the building must know what I'm doing. There's a lift waiting to go up, but I head for the stairs, firstly so I won't have to talk to anyone and secondly because my heart's beating so fast, I feel like I need to use up a bit of nervous energy.

Why does Jack Harper want to see me? Because if it's to tell me he was right all along about Connor, then he can just … he can just bloody well … Suddenly I have a flashback to that awful atmosphere in the lift, and my stomach turns over. What if it's really awkward? What if he's angry with me?

I don't have to go, I remind myself. He did give me an out. I could easily phone his secretary and say, 'Sorry, I couldn't find the Leopold file,' and that would be the end.

For an instant I hesitate on the marble stairs, my fingers tightly clutching the cardboard. And then I carry on walking.

*  *   *

As I near the door of Jack's office I see that it's being guarded not by one of the secretaries, but by Sven.

Oh God. I know Jack has said he's his oldest friend, but I can't help it. I do find this guy creepy.

'Hi,' I say. 'Er … Mr Harper asked me to bring up the Leopold file.'

Sven looks at me, and for an instant it's as if a little silent communication is passing between us. He knows, doesn't he? He probably uses the Leopold file code himself. He picks up his phone and after a moment says, 'Jack, Emma Corrigan here with the Leopold file.' Then he puts down the phone, and without smiling, says, 'Go straight in.'

I walk in, feeling prickly with self-consciousness. The room is huge and panelled, and Jack's sitting behind a big wooden desk. When he looks up, his eyes are warm and friendly, and I feel myself relax just the teeniest bit.

'Hello,' he says'.

'Hello,' I reply, and there's a short silence.

'So, um, here's the Leopold file,' I say, and hand him the cardboard folder.

'The Leopold file.' He laughs. 'Very good.' Then he opens it and looks at the sheet of paper in surprise. 'What's this?'

'It's a … it's a letter from Mr Leopold of Leopold and Company.'

'You composed a letter from Mr Leopold?' He sounds astonished, and suddenly I feel really stupid.

'Just in case I dropped the file on the floor and someone saw,' I mumble. 'I thought I'd just quickly make something up. It's not important.' I try to take it back, but Jack moves it out of my reach.

'"From the office of Ernest P. Leopold",' he reads aloud, and his face crinkles in delight. 'I see he wishes to order 6,000 cases of Panther Cola. Quite a customer, this Leopold.'

'It's for a corporate event,' I explain. 'They normally use Pepsi, but recently one of their employees tasted Panther Cola, and it was so good …'

'They simply had to switch,' finishes Jack. '"May I add that I am delighted with all aspects of your company, and have taken to wearing a Panther jogging suit, which is quite the most comfortable sportswear I have ever known."' He stares at the letter, then looks up with a smile. To my surprise, his eyes are shining slightly. 'You know, Pete would have adored this.'