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'It's OK, Cyril!' I call lightly. 'Dad, shut up, OK?' I mutter. 'He owns the company.'

'What?' Everyone stares at me.

'He owns the company,' I say, my face hot. 'So just … don't make any jokes about him.'

'The man in the jester's suit owns the company?' says Mum, looking in surprise at Cyril.

'No! Jack does! Or at least, some great big chunk of it.' They're all still looking completely blank. 'Jack's one of the founders of the Panther Corporation!' I hiss in frustration. 'He was just trying to be modest.'

'Are you saying that guy is Jack Harper?' says Nev in disbelief.

'Yes!'

There's a flabbergasted silence. As I look around, I see that a piece of chicken drumstick has fallen out of Kerry's mouth.

'Jack Harper – the multimillionaire,' says Dad, just to make sure.

'Multimillionaire?' Mum looks totally confused. 'So … does he still want the quiche?'

'Of course he doesn't want the quiche!' says Dad testily. 'What would he want a quiche for? He can buy a million bloody quiches!'

Mum's eye starts flicking around the picnic rug in slight agitation.

'Quick!' she says suddenly. 'Put the crisps into a bowl. There's one in the hamper—'

'They're fine as they are …' I begin helplessly.

'Millionaires don't eat crisps from the packet!' she hisses. She plops the crisps in a plastic bowl and hastily starts straightening the rug. 'Brian! Crumbs on your beard!'

'So how the hell do you know Jack Harper?' says Nev.

'I … I just know him,' I colour slightly. 'We've worked together and stuff, and he's kind of become a … a friend. But listen, don't act any differently,' I say quickly, as Jack shakes the hand of the blazer guy, and starts coming back towards the picnic rug. 'Just act the way you were before …'

Oh God. Why am I even bothering? As Jack approaches, my entire family is sitting bolt upright, staring at him in awe-struck silence.

'Hi!' I say, as naturally as possible, then quickly glare around at them.

'So … Jack!' says Dad self-consciously. 'Have another drink! Is this wine all right for you? Because we can easily nip to the wine shop, get something with a proper vintage.'

'It's great, thanks,' says Jack, looking a little baffled.

'Jack, what else can I get you to eat?' says Mum, flustered. 'I've got some gourmet salmon rolls somewhere. Emma, give Jack your plate!' she snaps. 'He can't eat off paper.'

'So … Jack,' says Nev in a matey voice. 'What does a guy like you drive, then? No, don't tell me.' He lifts his hand. 'A Porsche. Am I right?'

Jack meets my eye with a quizzical expression, and I stare back him beseechingly, trying to convey to him that I had no choice, that I'm really sorry, that basically I want to die …

'I take it my cover's been blown,' he says with a grin.

'Jack!' exclaims Kerry, who has regained her composure. She gives him an ingratiating smile and thrusts out her hand. 'Good to meet you properly.'

'Absolutely!' says Jack. 'Although … didn't we just meet?'

'As professionals,' says Kerry smoothly. 'One business-owner to another. Here's my card, and if you ever need any help with travel arrangements of any sort, please give me a call. Or if you wanted to meet up socially … perhaps the four of us could go out some time! Play a round? Couldn't we, Emma?'

I stare at her blankly. Since when have Kerry and I ever socialized together?

'Emma and I are practically sisters, of course,' she adds sweetly, putting her arm round me. 'I'm sure she's told you.'

'Oh, she told me a few things,' says Jack, his expression unreadable. He takes a bite of roast chicken and starts to chew it.

'We grew up together, we shared everything.' Kerry gives me a squeeze and I try to smile, but her perfume is nearly choking me.

'Isn't that nice!' says Mum in pleasure. 'I wish I had a camera.'

Jack doesn't reply. He's just giving Kerry this long, appraising look.

'We couldn't be closer!' Kerry's smile grows even more ingratiating. She's squeezing me so hard, her talons are digging into my flesh. 'Could we, Ems?'

'Er, no,' I say at last. 'No, we couldn't.'

Jack's still chewing his chicken. He swallows