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'You got carried away?' I feel a renewed surge of outrage. 'Jack, you exposed every single detail about me!'

'I know, and I'm sorry …'

'You told the world about my underwear … and my sex life … and my Barbie bedcover and you didn't tell them it was ironic …'

'Emma, I'm sorry—'

'You told them how much I weigh!' My voice rises to a shriek. 'And you got it wrong!'

'Emma, really, I'm sorry—'

'Sorry isn't good enough!' I wheel round furiously round to face him. 'You ruined my life!'

'I ruined your life?' He gives me a strange look. 'Is your life ruined? Is it such a disaster for people to know the truth about you?'

'I …I …' For a moment I flounder. 'You don't know what it was like for me,' I say, on firmer ground. 'Everyone was laughing at me. Everyone was teasing me, in the whole office. Artemis was teasing me—'

'I'll fire her,' Jack cuts me off firmly.

I'm so shocked, I give a half-giggle, then turn it into a cough.

'And Nick was teasing me—'

'I'll fire him too.' Jack thinks for a moment. 'How about this: anyone who teased you, I'll fire.'

This time I can't help giggling out loud.

'You won't have a company left.'

'So be it. That'll teach me. That'll teach me to be so thoughtless.'

For a moment we stare at each other in the sunshine. My heart's beating quickly. I'm not quite sure what to think.

'Would you like to buy some lucky heather?' A woman in a pink sweatshirt suddenly thrusts a foil-wrapped sprig in my face, and I shake my head irritably.

'Lucky heather, sir?'

'I'll take the whole basket,' says Jack. 'I think I need it.' He reaches into his wallet, gives the woman two £50 notes, and takes the basket from her. All the time, his eyes are fixed on mine.

'Emma, I want to make this up to you,' he says, as the woman hurries away. 'Could we have lunch? A drink? A … a smoothie?' His face crinkles into a tiny smile, but I don't smile back. I'm too confused to smile. I can feel part of me starting to unbend; I can feel part of me starting to believe him. Wanting to forgive him. But my mind is still jumbled up. Things are still wrong somewhere.

'I don't know,' I say, rubbing my nose.

'Things were going so well, before I had to go and fuck it up.'

'Were they?' I say.

'Weren't they?' Jack hesitates, gazing at me over the heather. 'I kind of thought they were.'

My mind is buzzing. There are things I need to say. There are things I need to get into the open. A thought crystallizes in my head.

'Jack … what were you doing in Scotland? When we first met.'

At once, Jack's expression changes. His face closes up and he looks away.

'Emma, I'm afraid I can't tell you that.'

'Why not?' I say, trying to sound light.

'It's … complicated.'

'OK, then.' I think for a moment. 'Where did you go rushing off to that night with Sven? When you had to cut our date short.'

Jack sighs.

'Emma—'

'How about the night you had all those calls? What were those about?'

This time, Jack doesn't even bother answering.

'I see.' I push my hair back, trying to stay calm. 'Jack, did it ever occur to you that in all our time together, you hardly told me anything about yourself?'

'I … guess I'm a private person,' says Jack. 'Is it such a big deal?'

'It's quite a big deal to me. I shared everything with you. Like you said. All my thoughts, all my worries, everything. And you shared nothing with me.'

'That's not true—' He steps forward, still holding the cumbersome basket, and several sprigs of heather fall to the ground.

'Practically nothing, then.' I close my eyes briefly, trying to sort my thoughts. 'Jack, relationships are all about trust and equality. If one person shares, then the other person should share, too. I mean, you didn't even tell me you were going to be on television.'

'It was just a dumb interview, for Chrissakes!' A girl with six shopping bags knocks yet more heather out of Jack's basket, and in frustration he dumps it on a passing motorcycle courier's pannier. 'Emma, you're over-reacting.'

'I told you all my secrets,' I say stubbornly. 'You didn't tell me any of yours.'

Jack gives a sigh.

'With all due