Can You Keep a Secret? 10

'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 planning to go home. But when I get outside I find I can't bring myself to. I'm 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 cannot believe I've fucked up so monumentally. I 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 …'

'Connor …'

What? I peer again, more sharply, and feel a crash of disappointment. I am such a moron. It's not Jack. It's not one figure, it's two. It's Connor and what must be his new girlfriend — and they're snogging.

Miserably, I shrink right down in my seat, trying to block my ears. But it's no good, I can hear everything.

'Do you like this?' I hear Connor murmuring.

'Mmm …'

'Do you really like it?'

'Of course I do! Stop quizzing me!'

'Sorry,' says Connor, and there's silence, apart from the odd 'Mmmm'.

'Do you like this?' his voice suddenly comes again.

'I already told you I did.'

'Francesca, be honest, OK?' Connor's voice rises in agitation. 'Because if that means no, then—'

'It doesn't mean no! Connor, what's your problem?'

'My problem is, I don't believe you.'

'You don't believe me?' She sounds furious. 'Why the hell don't you believe me?'

Suddenly I'm filled with remorse. This is all my fault. Not only have I wrecked my own relationship, now I've wrecked theirs too. I have to do something. I have to try to build bridges.

I clear my throat. 'Er … excuse me?'

'Who the fuck's that?' says Francesca sharply. 'Is someone there?'

'It's me. Emma. Connor's ex-girlfriend.'

A row of lights goes on, and I see a girl with red hair staring at me belligerently, with her hand on the light switch.

'What the hell are you doing? Spying on us?'