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the door behind me, and rest my hot forehead on the mirror. Hatred for Jack Harper is

bubbling through me like lava. Does he have any idea what I'm going through? Does he have

any idea what he's done to me?

'Emma!' A voice interrupts my thoughts and I give a start. Immediately I feel a jolt of

apprehension.

Katie has come into the Ladies without me hearing. She's standing right behind me, holding

her makeup bag. Her face is reflected in the mirror next to mine… and she isn't smiling. It's

just like Fatal Attraction.

'So,' she says in a strange voice. 'You don't like crochet.'

Oh God. Oh God. What have I done? I've unleashed the bu

ever seen before. Maybe she'll impale me with a crochet needle, I find myself thinking

wildly.

'Katie,' I say, my heart thumping hard. 'Katie, please listen. I never meant… I never said…'

'Emma, don't even try.' She lifts her hand. 'There's no point. We both know the truth.'

'He was wrong!' I say quickly. 'He got confused! I meant I don't like… um… creches. You

know, all those babies everywhere-'

'You know, I was pretty upset yesterday,' Katie cuts me off with an eerie smile. 'But after

work I went straight home, and I called my mum. And do you know what she said to me?'

'What?' I say apprehensively.

'She said… she doesn't like crochet either.'

'What?' I wheel round and gape at her.

'And neither does my gra

'Or any of my relatives. They've all been pretending for years, just like you. It all makes sense

now!' Her voice rises in agitation. 'You know, I made my gra

Christmas, and she told me that burglars had stolen it. But I mean, what kind of burglars steal

a crochet sofa cover?'

'Katie, I don't know what to say…'

'Emma, why couldn't you have told me before? All that time. Making stupid presents that

people didn't want.'

'Oh God, Katie, I'm sorry!' I say, filled with remorse. 'I'm so sorry. I just… didn't want to hurt

you.'

'I know you were trying to be kind. But I feel really stupid now.'

'Yes, well. That makes two of us,' I say, a little morosely.

The door opens, and Wendy from Accounts comes in. There's a pause as she stares at us both,

opens her mouth, closes it again, then disappears into one of the cubicles.

'So, are you OK?' says Katie in a lower voice.

'I'm fine,' I say with a tiny shrug. 'You know…'

Yeah. I'm so fine, I'm hiding in the loos rather than face my colleagues.

'Have you spoken to Jack?' she says tentatively.

'No. He sent me some stupid flowers. Like, Oh, that's OK, then. He probably didn't even order

them himself, he probably got Sven to do it.'

There's the sound of flushing, and Wendy comes out of the cubicle again.

'Well… this is the mascara I was talking about,' Katie says quickly, handing me a tube.

'Thanks,' I say. 'You say it… um… volumizes and lengthens?'

Wendy rolls her eyes.

'It's OK,' she says. 'I'm not listening!' She washes her hands, dries them, then gives me an avid

look. 'So Emma, are you going out with Jack Harper?'

'No,' I say curtly. 'He used me and he betrayed me, and to be honest, I'd be happy if I never

saw him again in my whole life.'

'Oh right!' she says brightly. 'It's just, I was wondering. If you're speaking to him again, could

you just mention that I'd really like to move to the PR department?'

'What?' I stare at her blankly.

'If you could just casually drop it in. That I have good communication skills and I think I'd be

really suited to PR.'

Casually drop it in? What, like, 'I never want to see you again, Jack, and by the way, Wendy