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'… and you never really cook the food at your di

'… and that photo of you meeting Prince William is faked…'

'… and we'll tell every single man you ever date from now on that all you're after is a rock on

your finger!' I finish, and glance gratefully at Lissy.

'OK!' says Jemima, practically in tears. 'OK! I promise I'll forget all about it. I promise. Just

please don't mention the discount warehouse shop. Please. Can I go now?' She looks

imploringly at Lissy.

'Yes, you can go,' says Lissy contemptuously, and Jemima scuttles out of the room. As the

door closes, I stare at Lissy.

'Is that photo of Jemima and Prince William really faked?'

'Yes! Didn't I tell you? I once did some stuff for her on her computer, and I opened the file by

mistake — and there it was. She just pasted her head onto some other girl's body!'

I can't help giving a giggle.

'That girl is unbelievable.'

I sink into a chair, feeling suddenly weak, and for a while there's silence. In the distance

there's a roar of laughter from the party, and somebody walks past the door of the office,

talking about the trouble with the judiciary system as it stands …

'Wouldn't he even listen?' says Lissy at last.

'No. He just left.'

'Isn't that a bit extreme? I mean, he gave away all your secrets. You only gave away one of

his-'

'You don't understand,' I stare at the drab brown office carpet. 'What Jack told me, it's not just

anything. It's something really precious to him. He came all the way here to tell me. To show

me that he trusted me with it.' I swallow hard. 'And the next moment he finds me spilling it to

a journalist.'

'But you weren't!' says Lissy loyally. 'Emma, this wasn't your fault!'

'It was!' Tears are welling up in my eyes. 'If I'd just kept my mouth closed, if I'd never told

Jemima anything in the first place…'

'She would have got him anyway,' says Lissy. 'He'd be suing you for a scraped car instead. Or

damaged genitals.'

I give a shaky laugh.

The door bursts open, and the feathered guy I saw backstage looks in. 'Lissy! There you are.

They're serving food. It looks rather good, actually.'

'OK,' she says. 'Thanks, Colin. I'll be along in a minute.'

He leaves and Lissy turns to me.

'Do you want something to eat?'

'I'm not really hungry. But you go,' I add quickly. 'You must be starving after your

performance.'

'I am rather ravenous,' she admits. Then she gives me an anxious look. 'But what will you do?'

'I'll… just go home,' I say, and try to smile as cheerfully as I can. 'Don't worry, Lissy, I'll be

fine.'

And I am pla

wound up with tension like a metal coil. I can't face going into the party and having to make

small talk — but I can't face the four silent walls of my bedroom either. Not quite yet.

Instead, I head across the gravel, towards the empty auditorium. The door is unlocked and I

walk straight in. I make my way through the darkness to a seat in the middle, and wearily sit

down on the cushiony purple plush.

And as I stare at the silent blackness of the empty stage, two fat tears make their way out of

my eyes and trickle slowly down my face. I ca

can't believe Jack really thinks I… that he thinks I would…

I keep seeing the shock on his face. I keep reliving that trapped powerlessness, that

desperation to speak; to explain myself.

If I could just replay it…

Suddenly there's a creaking sound. The door is slowly opening.

I peer uncertainly through the gloom as a figure comes into the auditorium and stops. In spite

of myself, my heart starts to thud with unbearable hope.

It's Jack. It has to be Jack. He's come to find me.

There's a long, agonizing silence. I'm taut with apprehension. Why won't he say anything?

Why won't he speak?

Is he punishing me? Is he expecting me to apologize again? Oh God, this is torture. Just say

something, I plead silently. Just say something.

'Oh Francesca…'