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'OK, Miss Marple,' says Lissy, rolling her eyes. 'So what are your other seven theories?'

'Let me see …' Jemima turns the page of her notebook. 'OK, this one's rather good He's in the Mafia.' She pauses for effect. 'His father was shot, and he's planning to murder the heads of all the other families.'

'Jemima, that's The Godfather,' says Lissy.

'Oh.' She looks put out. 'I thought it seemed a bit familiar.' She crosses it out. 'Well, here's another one. He has an autistic brother …'

'Rain Man.'

'Oh. Damn.' She pulls a face and looks at her list again. 'So maybe not that after all … or that …' She start crossing entries out. 'OK. But I do have one more.' She raises her head. 'He's got another woman.'

I stare at her, feeling a jolt. Another woman. I never even thought of that.

'That was my last theory, too,' says Lissy apologetically. 'Another woman.'

'You both think it's another woman?' I look from face to face. 'But … but why?'

Suddenly I feel really small. And stupid. Has Jack been playing me along? Have I been even more naïve than I originally thought?

'It just seems quite a likely explanation,' says Jemima with a shrug. 'He's having some clandestine affair with a woman in Scotland. He was paying her a secret visit when he met you. She keeps phoning him, maybe they were having a row, then she comes to London unexpectedly, so he has to dash off from your date.'

Lissy glances at my stricken face.

'But maybe he's relocating the company,' she says encouragingly. 'Or a fraudster.'

'Well, I don't care what he's doing,' I say, my face burning. 'It's his business. And he's welcome to it.'

I get a pint of milk from the fridge and slam it shut, my hands trembling slightly. Sensitive and complicated. Is that code for 'I'm seeing someone else?'

Well, fine. Let him have another woman. I don't care.

'It's your business too!' says Jemima. 'If you're going to get revenge—'

Oh for God's sake.

'I don't want to get revenge, OK?' I say, turning round to face her. 'It's not healthy. I want to … heal my wounds and move on.'

'Yes, and shall I tell you another word for revenge?' she retorts, as though pulling a rabbit out of a hat. 'Closure!'

'Jemima, closure and revenge are not actually the same thing,' says Lissy.

'In my book they are.' She gives me an impressive look. 'Emma, you're my friend, and I'm not going to let you just sit back and allow yourself to be mistreated by some bastard man. He deserves to pay. He deserves to be punished!'

I stare at Jemima, feeling a few tiny qualms.

'Jemima, you're not actually going to do anything about this.'

'Of course I am,' she says. 'I'm not going to stand by and see you suffer. It's called the sisterhood, Emma!'

Oh my God. I have visions of Jemima rooting through Jack's rubbish bins in her pink Gucci suit. Or scraping his car with a nail file.

'Jemima … don't do anything,' I say in alarm. 'Please. I don't want you to.'

'You think you don't. But you'll thank me later—'

'No I won't! Jemima, you have to promise me you're not going to do anything stupid.'

She tightens her jaw mutinously.

'Promise!'

'OK,' says Jemima at last, rolling her eyes. 'I promise.'

'She's crossing her fingers behind her back,' observes Lissy.

'What?' I stare at Jemima in disbelief. 'Promise properly! Swear on something you really love.'

'Oh God,' says Jemima sulkily. 'All right, you win. I swear on my Miu Miu ponyskin bag, I won't do anything. But you're making a big mistake, you know.'

She saunters out of the room, and I watch her, a bit uneasily.

'That girl is a total psychopath,' says Lissy, sinking down onto a chair. 'Why did we ever let her move in here?' She takes a sip of tea. 'Actually, I remember why. It was because her dad gave us a whole year's rent in advance—' She catches my expression. 'Are you OK?'

'You don't think she'll actually do anything to Jack, do you?'

'Of course not,' says Lissy reassuringly. 'She's all talk. She'll probably bump into one of her ditzy friends and forget all about it.'

'You're