Oh no. Have I ruined Connor's trust in all of womankind for ever?

'No!' I exclaim. 'Of course they don't! Honestly, Connor, I'm sure it's only me.'

My words wither on my lips as I glimpse a flash of familiar-looking blond hair at the entrance to the hall. My heart stops.

That can't be- That's not- 'Connor, I have to go,' I say, and start hurrying towards the entrance.

'She told me she's size ten!' Connor calls helplessly after me. 'What does that mean? What size should I really buy?'

'Twelve!' I shoot back over my shoulder.

It is. It's Jemima. Standing in the foyer. What's she doing here?

The door opens again and I experience such a shock, I feel faint. She's got a guy with her. In jeans, with cropped hair and squirrelly eyes. He's got a camera slung over his shoulder and is looking around interestedly.

No.

She can't have done.

'Emma,' comes a voice in my ear.

'Jack!' I wheel round, to see him smiling down at me, his dark eyes full of affection.

'You OK?' he says, and gently touches my nose.

'Fine!' I say a little shrilly. 'I'm great!'

I have to manage this situation. I have to.

'Jack could you get me some water?' I hear myself saying. 'I'll just stay here. I'm feeling a bit dizzy.' Jack looks alarmed.

'You know, I thought there was something wrong. Let me take you home. I'll call the car.'

'No. It's ... it's fine. I want to stay. Just get me some water. Please,' I add as an afterthought.

As soon as he's gone I tear into the foyer, almost tripping up in my haste.

'Emma!' Jemima looks up brightly. 'Excellent! I was just about to look for you. Now, this is Mick, and he wants to ask you some questions. We thought we'd use this little room here.' She heads into a small, empty office which leads off from the foyer.

'No!' I say, grabbing her arm. 'Jemima, you have to go. Now. Go!'

'I'm not going anywhere!' Jemima jerks her arm out of my grasp and rolls her eyes at Mick, who's closing the door of the office behind me. 'I told you she was being all hissy about it.'

'Mick Collins,' Mick thrusts a business card into my hand. 'Delighted to meet you, Emma. Now, there's no need to get worried, is there?' He gives me a soothing smile, as though he's completely used to dealing with hysterical women telling him to go. Which he probably is. 'Let's just sit down quietly, have a nice chat ...'

He's chewing gum as he speaks, and as I smell the spearmint wafting towards me, I almost want to throw up.

'Look, there's been a misunderstanding,' I say, forcing myself to sound polite. 'I'm afraid there's no story.'

'Well, let's see about that, shall we?' says Mick with a friendly smile. 'You tell me the facts ...'

'No! I mean, there's nothing.' I turn to Jemima. 'I told you I didn't want you to do anything. You promised me!'

'Emma, you are such a wimp.' She gives Mick an exasperated look. 'Do you see why I've been forced to take action? I told you what a b.a.s.t.a.r.d Jack Harper was to her. He needs to learn his lesson.'

'Absolutely right,' agrees Mick and puts his head on one side as though measuring me up. 'Very attractive,' he says to Jemima. 'You know, we could think about an accompanying interview feature. My romp with top boss. You could make some serious money,' he adds to me.

'No!' I say in horror.

'Emma, stop being so coy!' snaps Jemima. 'You want to do it really. This could be a whole new career for you, you realize.'

'I don't want a new career!'

'Well then you should! Do you know how much Monica Lewinsky makes a year?'

'You're sick,' I say in disbelief. 'You're a totally sick, warped-'

'Emma, I'm just acting in your best interests.'

'You're not!' I cry, feeling my face flame red. 'I ... I might be getting back together with Jack!'

There's a thirty-second silence. I stare at her, holding my breath. Then it's as if the killer robot jerks into action again, shooting yet more rays.

'Even more reason to do it!' says Jemima. 'This'll keep him on his toes. This'll show him who's boss. Go on, Mick.'

'Interview with Emma Corrigan. Tuesday, 15th July, 9.40 p.m.' I look up, and stiffen in horror. Mick has produced a small tape recorder and is holding it towards me.

'You first met Jack Harper on a plane. Can you confirm where this was flying from and to?' He gives me a smile. 'Just speak naturally, like you would to a mate on the phone.'

'Stop it!' I yell. 'Just leave! Leave!'

'Emma, grow up,' says Jemima impatiently. 'Mick's going to find out what this secret is whether you help him or not, so you might as well be-' She stops abruptly as the door handle rattles, then turns.

The room seems to swim around me.

Please don't say please- As the door slowly opens, I can't breathe. I can't move.

I have never felt so frightened in my entire life.

'Emma?' says Jack, coming in, holding two gla.s.ses of water in one hand. 'Are you feeling OK? I got you both still and sparkling, because I wasn't quite ...'

He tails off, his eyes running confusedly over Jemima and Mick. With a flicker of bewilderment, he takes in Mick's card, still in my hand. Then his gaze falls on the turning tape recorder and something slides out of his face.

'I think I'll just make myself scarce,' murmurs Mick, raising his eyebrows at Jemima. He slips the tape recording into his pocket, picks up his rucksack and sidles out of the room. n.o.body speaks for a few moments. All I can hear is the throbbing in my head.

'Who was that?' says Jack at last. 'A journalist?'

All the light has gone from his eyes. He looks as though someone just stamped on his garden.

'I ... Jack ...' I say huskily. 'It's not ... it's not ...'

'Why ...' He rubs his brow, as though trying to make sense of the situation. 'Why were you talking to a journalist?'

'Why do you think she was talking to a journalist?' chimes in Jemima proudly.

'What?' Jack's gaze swivels to her with dislike.

'You think you're such a bigshot millionaire! You think you can use little people. You think you can give away someone's private secrets and completely humiliate them and get away with it. Well, you can't!'

She takes a few steps towards him, folding her arms and lifting her chin with satisfaction. 'Emma's been waiting for a chance to get her revenge on you, and now she's found it! That was a journalist, if you want to know. And he's on your case. And when you find your little Scottish secret plastered all over the papers, then maybe you'll know what it feel like to be betrayed! And maybe you'll be sorry. Tell him, Emma! Tell him!'

But I'm paralysed.

The minute she said the word Scottish I saw Jack's face change. It kind of snapped. He almost seemed winded with shock. He looked straight at me and I could see the growing disbelief in his eyes.

'You might think you know Emma, but you don't,' Jemima is continuing delightedly, like a cat tearing apart its prey. 'You underestimated her, Jack Harper. You underestimated what she's capable of.'

Shut up! I'm screaming internally. It's not true! Jack, I would never, I would never ...

But nothing in my body will move. I can't even swallow. I'm pinioned, staring helplessly at him with a face I know is covered with guilt.

Jack opens his mouth, then closes it again. Then he turns on his heel, pushes the door open and walks out.

For a moment there's silence in the tiny room.

'Well!' says Jemima, smacking her hands triumphantly, 'That showed him!'

It's as though she breaks the spell. Suddenly I can move again. I can draw breath.

'You ...' I'm almost shaking too much to speak. 'You stupid ... stupid ... thoughtless ... b.i.t.c.h!'

The door bursts open and Lissy appears, wide-eyed.

'What the h.e.l.l happened here?' she demands. 'I just saw Jack storming out. He looked absolutely like thunder!'

'She brought a journalist here!' I say in anguish, gesturing at Jemima. 'A b.l.o.o.d.y tabloid journalist. And Jack found us all closeted here, and he thinks ... G.o.d know what he thinks ...'

'You stupid cow!' Lissy slaps Jemima across the face. 'What were you thinking.'

'Ow! I was helping Emma get vengeance on her enemy.'

'He's not my enemy, you stupid ...' I'm on the verge of tears. 'Lissy ... what am I going to do? What?'

'Go,' she says, and looks at me with anxious eyes. 'You can still catch him. Go.'

I pelt out of the door and through the courtyard, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my lungs burning. When I reach the road I look frantically left and right. Then I spot him, down the road.

'Jack, wait.'

He's striding along with his mobile phone to his ear, and at my voice he turns round with a taut face.

'So that's why you were so interested in Scotland.'

'No!' I say, aghast. 'No! Listen, Jack, they don't know. They don't know anything, I promise. I didn't tell them about-' I stop myself. 'All Jemima knows is that you were there. Nothing more. She was bluffing. I haven't said anything.'

Jack doesn't answer. He gives me a long look, then starts striding again.

'It was Jemima who called that guy, not me!' I cry desperately, running after him. 'I was trying to stop her ... Jack, you know me! You know I would never do this to you. Yes, I told Jemima about you being in Scotland. I was hurt, and I was angry, and it ... came out. And that was a mistake. But ... but you made a mistake too, and I forgave you.'

He's not even looking at me. He's not even giving me a chance. His silver car pulls up at the pavement, and he opens the pa.s.senger door.

I feel a stab of panic.

'Jack, this wasn't me,' I say frantically. 'It wasn't. You have to believe me. That's not why I asked about Scotland! I didn't want to ... to sell your secret!' Tears are streaming down my face, and I brush them away roughly. 'I didn't even want to know such a big secret. I just wanted to know your little secrets! Your little stupid secrets! I just wanted to know you ... like you know me.'

But he doesn't look round. The car door closes with a heavy clunk, and the car moves away down the road. And I'm left on the pavement, all alone.

TWENTY-SIX.

For a while I can't move. I stand there, dazed, with the breeze blowing on my face, staring at the point at the end of the road where Jack's car disappeared. I can still hear his voice in my mind. I can still see his face. The way he looked at me as though he didn't know me, after all.

A spasm of pain runs through my body and I close my eyes, almost unable to bear it. If I could just turn back time ... if I'd been more forceful ... if I'd marched Jemima and her friend off the premises ... if I'd spoken up more quickly when Jack appeared ...

But I didn't. And it's too late.

A group of party guests comes out of the courtyard onto the pavement, laughing and discussing taxis.

'Are you all right?' says one curiously to me, and I give a start.

'Yes,' I say. 'Thanks.' I look one more time at where Jack's car disappeared, then force myself to turn around and make my way slowly back up to the party.

I find Lissy and Jemima still in the little office, Jemima cowering in terror as Lissy lays into her.

'... selfish immature little b.i.t.c.h! You make me sick, you know that?'

I once heard someone say Lissy was a Rottweiler in court, and I could never understand it. But now, as I watch her striding up and down, her eyes blazing in fury, I'm actually pretty scared myself.

'Emma, make her stop!' pleads Jemima. 'Make her stop shouting at me.'

'So ... what happened?' Lissy looks at me, her face alight with hope. Mutely, I shake my head.

'Is he-'