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Can You Keep A Secret?

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Kinsella Sophie

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'I've heard this rumour he's got a secret project…'

'He can't completely centralize the marketing function,' Artemis is saying, trying to raise her

voice above everyone else's.

'Where's Jack Harper?' I say, trying to sound casual.

'He's gone,' says Nick, and I feel a whoosh of relief. Gone! He's gone!

'Is he coming back?'

'Don't think so. Emma, have you done those letters for me yet? Because I gave them to you

three days ago-'

'I'll do them now,' I say, and beam at Nick. As I sit down at my desk, I feel as light as a

helium balloon. Cheerfully I kick off my shoes, reach for my Evian bottle — and stop.

There's a folded piece of paper resting on my keyboard, with 'Emma' written on it in a

handwriting I don't recognize.

Puzzled, I look around the office. No-one's looking at me, waiting for me to find it. In fact noone

seems to have noticed. They're all too busy talking about Jack Harper.

Slowly I unfold it and stare at the message inside.

Hope your meeting was productive. I always find numbers give me a real buzz.

Jack Harper

It could have been worse. It could have read 'Clear your desk'.

Even so, for the rest of the day, I'm completely on edge. Every time anyone walks into the

department I feel a little spasm of panic. And when someone starts talking loudly outside our

door about how 'Jack says he may pop back into Marketing', I seriously consider hiding in the

loos until he's gone.

On the dot of 5.30 I stop typing mid-sentence, close my computer down and grab my coat. I'm

not waiting around for him to reappear. I all but run down the stairs, and only begin to relax

when I'm safely on the other side of the big glass doors.

The tubes are miraculously quick for once, and I arrive home within twenty minutes. As I

push open the front door of the flat I can hear a strange noise coming from Lissy's room. A

kind of thumping, bumping sound. Maybe she's moving her furniture around.

'Lissy,' I call asl go into the kitchen. 'You will not believe what happened today.' I open the

fridge, take out a bottle of Evian and hold it against my hot forehead. After a while I open the

bottle and take a few swigs, then wander out into the hall again to see Lissy's door opening.

'Lissy!' I begin. 'What on earth were you-'

And then I halt, as out of the door comes not Lissy, but a man.

A man! A tall thin guy in trendy black trousers and steel spectacles.

'Oh,' I say, taken aback. 'Er… hi.'

'Emma!' says Lissy, following him out. She's wearing a T-shirt over some grey leggings I've

never seen before, is drinking a glass of water and looks startled to see me. 'You're home

early.'

'I know. I was in a hurry.'

This is Jean-Paul,' says Lissy. 'Jean-Paul, my flatmate Emma.'

'Hello, Jean-Paul,' I say with a friendly smile.

'Good to meet you, Emma,' says Jean-Paul, in a French accent.

God, French accents are sexy. I mean, they just are.

'Jean-Paul and I were just… um… going over some case notes,' says Lissy.

'Oh right,' I say brightly. 'Lovely!'

Case notes. Yeah, right. Because that would really make a whole load of thumping noises.

Lissy is such a dark horse!

'I must be going,' says Jean-Paul, looking at Lissy.

'I'll just see you out,' she says, flustered.

She disappears out of the front door, and I can hear the two of them murmuring on the landing.

I take a few more swigs of Evian, then walk into the sitting room and slump down heavily on

the sofa. My whole body's aching from sitting rigid with tension all day. This is seriously bad

for my health. How on earth am I going to survive a whole week of Jack Harper?

'So!' I say as Lissy walks back into the room. 'What's going on?'

'What do you mean?' she says shiftily.

'You and Jean-Paul! How long have you two been…'

'We're not,' starts Lissy, turning red. 'It's not… We were going over case notes. That's all.'

'Sure you were.'

'We were! That's all it was!'

'OK,' I say, raising my eyebrows. 'If you say so.'

Lissy sometimes gets like this, all shy and abashed. I'll just have to get her pissed one night,

and she'll admit it.

'So how was your day?' she says, sinking onto the floor and reaching for a magazine.

How was my day?

I don't even know where to start.

'My day,' I say at last. 'My day was a bit of a nightmare.'

'Really?' says Lissy, looking up in surprise.

'No, take that back. It was a complete nightmare.'

'What happened?' Lissy's attention is fully grabbed. 'Tell me!'

'OK.' I take a deep breath and smooth my hair back, wondering where on earth to start. 'OK,

remember I had that awful flight back from Scotland last week?'

'Yes!' Lissy's face lights up. 'And Connor came to meet you and it was all really romantic…'

'Yes. Well.' I clear my throat. 'Before that. On the flight. There was this… this man sitting

next to me. And the plane got really turbulent.' I bite my lip. 'And the thing is, I honestly

thought we were all going to die and this was the last person I would ever see, and… I…'

'Oh my God!' Lissy claps her hand over her mouth. 'You didn't have sex with him.'

'Worse! I told him all my secrets.'

I'm expecting Lissy to gasp, or say something sympathetic like 'Oh no!' but she's staring at me

blankly.

'What secrets?'

'My secrets. You know.'

Lissy looks as if I've told her I've got an artificial leg.

'You have secrets?'

'Of course I have secrets!' I say. 'Everyone has a few secrets.'

'I don't!' she says at once, looking offended. 'I don't have any secrets.'

'Yes you do!'

'Like what?'

'Like… like… OK.' I start counting off on my fingers. 'You never told your dad it was you

who lost the garage key that time.'

'That was ages ago!' says Lissy scornfully.

'You never told Simon you were hoping he might propose to you…'

'I wasn't!' says Lissy, colouring. 'Well, OK, maybe I was…'

'You think that sad guy next door fancies you…'

'That's not a secret!' she says, rolling her eyes.

'Oh right. Shall I tell him, then?' I lean back towards the open window. 'Hey Mike,' I call.

'Guess what? Lissy thinks you-'

'Stop!' says Lissy frantically.

'You see? You have got secrets. Everyone has secrets. The Pope probably has a few secrets.'

'OK,' says Lissy. 'OK. You've made your point. But I don't understand what the problem is.

So you told some guy on a plane your secrets-'

'And now he's turned up at work.'

'What?' Lissy stares at me. 'Are you serious? Who is he?'

'He's…' I'm about to say Jack Harper's name when I remember the promise I made. 'He's just

this… this guy who's come in to observe,' I say vaguely.

'Is he senior?'

'He's… yes. You could say he's pretty senior.'

'Blimey.' Lissy frowns, thinking for a few moments. 'Well, does it really matter? If he knows

a few things about you.'

'Lissy, it wasn't just a few things.' I feel myself flush slightly. 'It was everything. I told him I

faked a grade on my CV.'

'You faked a grade on your CV?' echoes Lissy in shock. 'Are you serious?'

'I told him about feeding Artemis's spider plant orange juice, I told him I find G-strings

uncomfortable…'

I tail off to see Lissy staring at me, aghast.

'Emma,' she says at last. 'Have you ever heard the phrase "too much information?"'

'I didn't mean to say any of it!' I retort defensively. 'It just kind of came out! I'd had three

vodkas, and I thought we were about to die. Honestly, Lissy, you would have been the same.

Everyone was screaming, people were praying, the plane was lurching around…'

'So you blab all your secrets to your boss.'

'But he wasn't my boss on the plane!' I cry in frustration. 'He was just some stranger. I was

never supposed to see him again!'

There's silence as Lissy takes this all in.

'You know, this is like what happened to my cousin,' she says at last. 'She went to a party, and

there, right in front of her, was the doctor who'd delivered her baby two months before.'

'Ooh.' I pull a face.

'Exactly! She said she was so embarrassed, she had to leave. I mean, he'd seen everything!

She said somehow it didn't matter when she was in a hospital room, but when she saw him

standing there, holding a glass of wine and chatting about house prices, it was a different

matter.'

'Well, this is the same,' I say hopelessly. 'He knows all my most intimate, personal details. But

the difference is, I can't just leave! I have to sit there and pretend to be a good employee. And

he knows I'm not.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'I don't know! I suppose all I can do is try to avoid him.'

'How long is he over for?'

'The rest of the week,' I say despairingly. 'The whole week.'

I pick up the zapper and turn on the television and for a few moments we stare silently at a

load of dancing models in Gap jeans.

The ad finishes, and I look up again, to see Lissy looking at me curiously.

'What?' I say. 'What is it?'

'Emma…' She clears her throat awkwardly. 'You don't have any secrets from me, do you?'

'From you?' I say, slightly thrown.

A series of images flashes rapidly through my mind. That weird dream I once had about Lissy

and me being lesbians. Those couple of times I've bought supermarket carrots and sworn to

her they were organic. The time when we were fifteen and she went to France and I got off

with Mike Appleton whom she had a complete crush on, and never told her.

'No! Of course not!' I say, and quickly take a sip of water. 'Why? Have you got any from me?'

Two dots of pink appear on Lissy's cheeks.

'No, of course I haven't!' she says in an unnatural voice. 'I was just… wondering.' She reaches

for the TV guide and starts to flip through it, avoiding my gaze. 'You know. Just out of

interest.'

'Yes, well.' I give a shrug. 'So was I.'

Wow. Lissy's got a secret. I wonder what it-

Of course. Like she was really going over case notes with that guy. Does she think I'm a

complete moron?

EIGHT

I arrive at work the next morning with exactly one aim. Avoid Jack Harper.

It should be easy enough. The Panther Corporation is a huge company in a huge building.

He'll be busy in other departments today. He'll probably be tied up in loads of meetings. He'll

probably spend all day on the eleventh floor or something.

Even so, as I approach the big glass doors, my pace slows down and I find myself peering

inside to see if he's about.

'All right, Emma?' says Dave the security guard, coming to open the door for me. 'You look

lost.'

'No! I'm fine, thanks!' I give a relaxed little laugh, my eyes darting about the foyer.

I can't see him anywhere. OK. This is going to be fine. He probably isn't in yet. He probably

isn't even coming in today. I throw my hair back confidently, walk briskly across the marble

floor, and start to walk up the stairs.

'Jack!' I suddenly hear as I'm nearing the first floor. 'Have you got a minute?'

'Sure.'

It's his voice. Where on earth-

I turn around, bewildered, and spot him on the landing above, talking to Graham Hillingdon.

My heart gives a huge jump, and I clutch the brass banister. Shit. If he looked down now he'd

see me.

Why does he have to stand right there? Doesn't he have some big important office he can go

to?

Anyway. It doesn't matter. I'll just… take a different route. Very slowly I take a few steps

back down the stairs, trying not to click my heels on the marble or move suddenly in case I

attract his attention. Moira from Accounts walks past as I'm carefully stepping backwards and

gives me an odd look, but I don't care. I have to get away.

As soon as I'm out of his view I feel myself relax, and walk more quickly back down to the

foyer. I'll go by lift, instead. No problem. I step confidently across the floor, and I'm right in

the middle of the huge expanse of marble when I freeze.

'That's right.' It's his voice again. And it seems to be getting nearer. Or am I just paranoid?

'… think I'll take a good look at…'

My head swivels around. Where is he now? Which direction is he going in?

'… really think that…'

Shit. He's coming down the stairs. There's nowhere to hide!

Without thinking twice I almost run to the glass doors, push them open, and hurry out of the

building. I scuttle down the steps, run about a hundred yards down the road and stop, panting.

This is not going well.

I stand on the pavement for a few minutes in the morning sunshine, trying to estimate how

long he will stay in the foyer, then cautiously approach the glass doors again. New tactic. I

will walk to my office so incredibly quickly, I can't catch anyone's eye. So it won't matter if I

pass Jack Harper or not. I will simply stride along without looking right or left and oh my God

there he is, talking to Dave.

Without quite meaning to, I find myself running back down the steps and along the street

again.

This is getting ridiculous. I can't stay out here on the street all day. I have to get to my desk.

Come on, think. There must be a way round this. There must be-

Yes! I have a totally brilliant idea. This will definitely work.

Three minutes later I approach the doors of the Panther building once more, totally engrossed

in an article in The Times. I can't see anything around me. And no-one can see my face. This

is the perfect disguise!

I push the door open with my shoulder, walk across the foyer and up the stairs, all without

looking up. As I stride along the corridor towards the marketing department, I feel all

cocooned and safe, buried in my Times. I should do this more often. No-one can get me in

here. It's a really reassuring feeling, almost as though I'm invisible, or-

'Ow! Sorry!'

I've crashed into someone. Shit. I lower my paper, to see Paul staring at me, rubbing his head.

'Emma, what the fuck are you doing?'

'I was just reading The Times,' I say feebly. 'I'm really sorry.'

'All right. Anyway, where the hell have you been? I want you to do teas and coffees at the

departmental meeting. Ten o'clock.'

'What teas and coffees?' I say, puzzled. They don't usually have any refreshments at the

departmental meeting. In fact, usually only about six people turn up.

'We're having teas and coffees today,' he says. 'And biscuits. All right? Oh, and Jack Harper's

coming along.'

'What?' I stare at him in consternation.

'Jack Harper's coming along,' repeats Paul impatiently. 'So hurry up.'

'Do I have to go?' I say before I can stop myself.

'What?' Paul stares at me with a blank frown.

'I was just wondering if I… have to go, or whether…' I tail off feebly.

'Emma, if you can serve tea and coffee by telepathy,' says Paul sarcastically, 'then you're more

than welcome to stay at your desk. If not, would you most kindly get your arse in gear and up

to the conference room. You know, for someone who wants to advance their career… 'He

shakes his head and stalks off.

How can this day have gone so wrong already and I haven't even sat down yet?

I dump my bag and jacket at my desk, hurry back down the corridors to the lifts, and press the

Up button. A moment later, one pings in front of me, and the doors open.

No. No.

This is a bad dream.

Jack Harper is standing alone in the lift, in old jeans and a brown cashmere sweater.

Before I can stop myself I take a startled step backwards. Jack Harper puts his mobile phone

away, tilts his head to one side and gives me a quizzical look.

'Are you getting into the elevator?' he says mildly.

I'm stuffed. What can I say? I can't say 'No, I just pressed the button for fun, haha!'

'Yes,' I say at last and walk into the lift with stiff legs. 'Yes I am.'

The doors close, and we begin to travel upwards in silence. I've got a knot of tension in my

stomach.

'Erm, Mr Harper,' I say awkwardly, and he looks up. 'I just wanted to apologize for my… for

the, um, shirking episode the other day. It won't happen again.'

'You have drinkable coffee now,' says Jack Harper, raising his eyebrows. 'So you shouldn't

need to go to Starbucks, at any rate.'

'I know. I'm really sorry,' I say, my face hot. 'And may I assure you, that was the very last

time I will ever do such a thing.' I clear my throat. 'I am fully committed to the Panther

Corporation, and I look forward to serving this company as best as I can, giving one hundred

per cent, every day, now and in the future.'

I almost want to add 'Amen'.

'Really.' Jack looks at me, his mouth twitching. 'That's… great.' He thinks for a moment.