'Actually, I've been reading the new biography of Mao Tse Tung,' says Artemis at once. 'Fascinating stuff.'
'I'm in the middle of a history of fourteenth-century Europe,' says Nick.
'I'm just re-reading Proust,' says Caroline, with a modest shrug. 'In the original French.'
'Ah.' Jack Harper nods, his face unreadable. 'And … Emma, is it? What are you reading?'
'Um, actually …' I swallow, playing for time.
I cannot say Celebrity Doodles — What Do They Mean? Even though it is actually very good. Quick. What's a serious book?
'You were reading Great Expectations, weren't you, Emma?' says Artemis. 'For your book club.'
'Yes!' I say in relief. 'Yes, that's right—'
And then I stop abruptly as I meet Jack Harper's gaze.
Fuck.
Inside my head, my own voice from the plane is babbling away innocently.
'… just skimmed the back cover and pretended I'd read it …'
'Great Expectations,' says Jack Harper thoughtfully. 'What did you think of it, Emma?'
I don't believe he asked me that.
For a few moments I can't speak.
'Well!' I clear my throat at last. 'I thought it … it was really … extremely …'
'It's a wonderful book,' says Artemis earnestly. 'Once you fully understand the symbolism.'
Shut up, you stupid show-off. Oh God. What am I going to say?
'I thought it really … resonated,' I say at last.
'What resonated?' says Nick.
'The … um …' I clear my throat. 'The resonances.'
There's a puzzled silence.
'The resonances … resonated?' says Artemis.
'Yes,' I say defiantly. 'They did. Anyway, I've got to get on with my work.' I turn away with a roll of my eyes and start typing feverishly.
OK. So the book discussion didn't go that well. But that was just sheer bad luck. Think positive. I can still do this. I can still impress him—
'I just don't know what's wrong with it!' Artemis is saying in a girly voice. 'I water it every day.'
She pokes her spider plant and gazes at Jack Harper winsomely. 'Do you know anything about plants, Jack?'
'I don't, I'm afraid,' says Jack, and looks over at me, his face deadpan. 'What do you think could be wrong with it, Emma?'
'… sometimes, when I'm pissed off with Artemis …'
'I … I have no idea,' I say at last, and carry on typing, my face flaming.
OK. Never mind. It doesn't matter. So I watered one little plant with orange juice. So what?
'Has anyone seen my World Cup mug?' says Paul, walking into the office with a frown. 'I can't seem to find it anywhere.'
'… I broke my boss's mug last week and hid the pieces in my handbag …'
Shit.
OK. Never mind. So I broke one tiny mug, too. It doesn't matter. Just keep typing.
'Hey Jack,' says Nick, in a matey, lads-together voice. 'Just in case you don't think we have any fun, look up there!' He nods towards the picture of a photocopied, G-stringed bottom which has been up on the noticeboard since Christmas. 'We still don't know who it is …'
'… I had a few too many drinks at the last Christmas party …'
OK, now I want to die. Someone please kill me.
'Hi, Emma!' comes Katie's voice, and I look up to see her hurrying into the office, her face pink with excitement. When she sees Jack Harper, she stops dead. 'Oh!'
'It's all right. I'm simply a fly on the wall.' He waves a friendly hand at her. 'Go ahead. Say whatever you were going to say.'
'Hi Katie!' I manage. 'What is it?'
As soon as I say her name, Jack Harper looks up again, a riveted expression on his face.
I do not like the look of that riveted expression.
What did I tell him about Katie? What? My mind spools furiously back. What did I say? What did I—
I feel an internal lurch. Oh God.
'… we have this secret code where she comes in and says, "Can I go through some numbers with you, Emma?" and it really means "Shall we nip out to Starbucks …"'
I told him our skiving code.
I stare desperately at Katie's eager face, trying somehow to convey the message to her.
Do not say it. Do not say you want to go over some numbers with me.
But she's completely oblivious.
'I just … erm …' She clears her throat in a businesslike way and glances selfconsciously at Jack Harper. 'Could I possibly go over some numbers with you, Emma?'
Fuck.
My face floods with colour. My whole body is prickling.
'You know,' I say, in a bright, artificial voice, 'I'm not sure that'll be possible today.'
Katie stares at me in surprise.
'But I have to … I really need you to go over some numbers with me.' She nods in excitement.
'I'm quite tied up here with my work, Katie!' I force a smile, simultaneously trying to telegraph 'Shut up!'
'It won't take long! Just quickly.'
'I really don't think so.'
Katie is practically hopping from foot to foot.
'But Emma, they're very … important numbers. I really need to … to tell you about them …'
'Emma.' At Jack Harper's voice I jump as though I've been stung. He leans towards me confidentially. 'Maybe you should go over the numbers.'
I stare back at him for a few moments, unable to speak, blood pounding in my ears.
'Right,' I manage after a long pause. 'OK. I'll do that.'
SEVEN
As I walk along the street with Katie, half of me is numb with horror, and half almost wants to burst into hysterical laughter. Everyone else is in the office, trying as hard as they can to impress Jack Harper. And here I am, strolling off nonchalantly under his nose for a cappuccino.
'I'm sorry I interrupted you,' says Katie brightly, as we push our way through the doors of Starbucks. 'With Jack Harper there and everything. I had no idea he'd be just sitting there! But you know, I was really subtle,' she adds reassuringly. 'He'll never know what we're up to.'