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'I can!' says Jemima, making one last desperate effort to bend her body. 'Of course I can. There!' She manages to scoop up the strap on the end of one of her acrylic fingernails, and triumphantly swings it onto her shoulder. 'You see?'

'What if he suggests dancing?' says Lissy slyly. 'What will you do then?'

A look of total panic briefly crosses Jemima's face, then disappears.

'He won't,' she says scornfully. 'Englishmen never suggest dancing.'

'Fair point.' Lissy grins. 'Have a good time.'

As Jemima disappears out of the door, I sink down heavily onto the-sofa and reach for a magazine. I glance up at Lissy, but she's staring ahead with a preoccupied look on her face.

'Conditional!' she says suddenly. 'Of course! How could I have been so stupid?'

She scrabbles around under the sofa, pulls out several old newspaper crosswords and starts searching through them.

Honestly. As if being a top lawyer didn't use up enough brain power, Lissy spends her whole time doing crosswords and games of chess by correspondence, and special brainy puzzles which she gets from her geeky society of extra-clever people. (It's not called that, of course. It's called something like 'Mindset – for people who like to think'. Then at the bottom it casually mentions that you need an IQ of 600 in order to join.)

And if she can't solve a clue, she doesn't just throw it out, saying 'stupid puzzle' like I would. She saves it. Then about three months later, when we're watching EastEnders or something, she'll suddenly come up with the answer. And she's ecstatic! Just because she gets the last word in the box, or whatever.

Lissy's my oldest friend, and I really love her. But sometimes I really do not understand her.

'What's that?' I say, as she writes in the answer. 'Some crossword from 1993?'

'Ha ha,' she says absently. 'So what are you doing this evening?'

'I thought I'd have a quiet evening in,' I say, flicking through the magazine. 'In fact, I might go through my clothes,' I add, as my eyes fall on an article entitled 'Essential Wardrobe Upkeep'.

'Do what?'

'I thought I'd check them all for missing buttons and drooping hems,' I say, reading the article. 'And brush all my jackets with a clothes brush.'

'Have you got a clothes brush?'

'With a hairbrush then.'

'Oh right.' She shrugs. 'Oh well. Because I was just wondering, do you want to go out?'

'Ooh!' My magazine slithers to the floor. 'Where?'

'Guess what I've got?' She raises her eyebrows tantalizingly, then fishes in her bag. Very slowly she pulls out a large, rusty keyring, to which a brand new Yale is attached.

'What's that?' I begin, puzzledly – then suddenly realize. 'No!'

'Yes! I'm in!'

'Oh my God Lissy!'

'I know!' Lissy beams at me. 'Isn't it fab?'

The key which Lissy is holding is the coolest key in the world. It opens the door to a private members' club in Clerkenwell, which is completely happening and impossible to get into.

And Lissy got in!

'Lissy, you're the coolest!'

'No I'm not,' she says, looking pleased. 'It was Jasper at my chambers. He knows everyone on the committee.'

'Well I don't care who it was. I'm so impressed!'

I take the key from her and look at it in fascination, but there's nothing on it. No name, no address, no logo, no nothing. It looks a bit like the key to my dad's garden shed, I find myself thinking. But obviously way, way cooler, I add hastily.

'So who do you think'll be there?' I look up. 'You know, apparently Madonna's a member. And Jude and Sadie! And that gorgeous new actor from EastEnders. Except everyone says he's gay really …'

'Emma,' interrupts Lissy. 'You do know celebrities aren't guaranteed.'

'I know!' I say, a little offended.

Honestly. Who does Lissy think I am? I'm a cool and sophisticated Londoner. I don't get excited by stupid celebrities. I was just mentioning it, that's all.

'In fact,' I add after a pause, 'it probably spoils the atmosphere if the place is stuffed full of famous people. I mean, can you think of anything worse than sitting at a table, trying to have a nice normal conversation, while all around you are