Can you keep a secret_ - Sophie Kinsella [69]
Oh, OK, here it is. Now what's Jack doing?
I turn to see him looking in fascination at my exercise chart, which I put up in January after I'd spent the entire Christmas eating Quality Street.
'"Monday, 7 a.m.",' he reads aloud. '"Brisk jog round block. Forty sit-ups. Lunch time: yoga class. Evening: Pilates tape. Sixty sit-ups."' He takes a sip of whisky. 'Very impressive. You do all this?'
'Well,' I say after a pause. 'I don't exactly manage every single … I mean, it was quite an ambitious … you know … er … Anyway!' I quickly spritz myself with perfume. 'Let's go!'
I have to get him out of here quickly before he does something like spot a Tampax and ask me what it is. I mean, honestly! Why on earth is he so interested in everything?
FIFTEEN
As we head out into the balmy evening, I feel light and happy with anticipation. Already there's a completely different atmosphere from yesterday night. No scary cars; no posh restaurants. It feels more casual. More fun.
'So,' says Jack, as we walk up to the main road. 'An evening out, Emma-style.'
'Absolutely!' I stick out my hand and hail a taxi, and give the name of the road in Clerkenwell off which the little alley runs.
'We're allowed to go by taxi, are we?' says Jack mildly as we get in. 'We don't have to wait for a bus?'
'As a very special treat,' I say with mock severity.
'So, are we eating? Drinking? Dancing?' says Jack, as we move off down the street.
'Wait and see!' I beam at him. 'I just thought we could have a really laid-back, spontaneous evening.'
'I guess I over-planned last night,' says Jack after a pause.
'No, it was lovely!' I say kindly. 'But sometimes you can put too much thought into things. You know, sometimes it's better just to go with the flow and see what happens.'
'You're right.' Jack smiles. 'Well, I look forward to going with the flow.'
As we whiz along Upper Street, I feel quite proud of myself. It just shows I'm a true Londoner. I can take my guests to little places off the beaten track. I can find spots which aren't just the obvious venues to go. I mean, not that Jack's restaurant wasn't amazing. But how much cooler will this be? A secret club! And I mean, who knows, Madonna might be there this evening!
After about twenty minutes we get to Clerkenwell. I insist on paying the taxi fare, and lead Jack down the alley.
'Very interesting,' says Jack, looking around. 'So where are we heading?'
'Just wait,' I say enigmatically. I head for the door, press the buzzer and take Lissy's key out of my pocket with a little frisson of excitement.
He is going to be so impressed. He is going to be so impressed!
'Hello?' comes a voice.
'Hello,' I say casually. 'I'd like to speak to Alexander, please.'
'Who?' says the voice.
'Alexander,' I repeat, and give a knowing smile. Obviously they have to double-check.
'Ees no Alexander here.'
'You don't understand. Al-ex-and-er,' I enunciate clearly.
'Ees no Alexander.'
Maybe I got the wrong door, it suddenly occurs to me. I mean, I remember it as being this one – but maybe it was this other one with the frosted glass. Yes. That one looks quite familiar, actually.
'Tiny hitch,' I smile at Jack, and press the new bell.
There's silence. I wait a few minutes, then try again, and again. There's no reply. OK. So … it's not this one either.
Fuck.
I am a moron. Why didn't I check the address? I was just so sure I'd remember where it was.
'Is there a problem?' says Jack.
'No!' I say at once, and smile brightly. 'I'm just trying to recall exactly …'
I look up and down the street, trying not to panic. Which one was it? Am I going to have to ring every single doorbell in the street? I take a few steps along the pavement, trying to trigger my memory. And then, through an arch, I spy another alley, almost identical to this one.
I feel a huge thud of horror. Am I in the right alley, even? I dart forward and peer into the other alley. It looks exactly the same. Rows of nondescript doors and blanked-out windows.
My heart starts to beat more quickly. What am I going to do? I can't try every