Can you keep a secret_ - Sophie Kinsella [99]
'A chest wig!' Lissy gives an explosive snort of laughter. 'Or a toupee!'
'Of course he doesn't wear a chest wig. Or a toupee,' I retort indignantly. Do they honestly think I'd go out with a man who wore a toupee?
'Well then, you'll have to make something up,' says Jemima. 'You know, before the affair with the scientist, Mummy was treated very badly by some politician chap. So she made up a rumour that he was taking bribes from the Communist party, and passed it round the House of Commons. She always says, that taught Dennis a lesson!'
'Not … Dennis Llewellyn?' Lissy says.
'Er, yes, I think that was him.'
'The disgraced Home Secretary?' Lissy looks aghast. 'The one who spent his whole life fighting to clear his name and ended up in a mental institution?'
'Well, he shouldn't have messed Mummy around, should he?' says Jemima, sticking out her chin. A bleeper goes off in her pocket. 'Time for my footbath!'
As she disappears back into the house, Lissy rolls her eyes.
'She's nuts,' she says. 'Totally nuts. Emma, you are not making anything up about Jack Harper.'
'I won't make anything up!' I say indignantly. 'Who do you think I am? Anyway.' I stare into my schnapps, feeling my exhilaration fade away. 'Who am I kidding? I could never get my revenge on Jack. I could never hurt him. He doesn't have any weak points. He's a huge, powerful millionaire.' I take a miserable slug of my drink. 'And I'm a nothing-special … crappy … ordinary … nothing.'
TWENTY-ONE
The next morning I wake up full of sick dread. I feel exactly like a five-year-old who doesn't want to go to school. A five-year-old with a severe hangover, that is.
'I can't go,' I say, as 8.30 arrives. 'I can't face them.'
'Yes you can,' says Lissy reassuringly, doing up my jacket buttons. 'It'll be fine. Just keep your chin up.'
'What if they're horrid to me?'
'They won't be horrid to you. They're your friends. Anyway, they'll probably all have forgotten about it by now.'
'They won't! Can't I just stay at home with you?' I grab her hand beseechingly. 'I'll be really good, I promise.'
'Emma, I've explained to you,' says Lissy patiently. 'I've got to go to court today.'
She prises my hand out of hers. 'But I'll be here when you get home. And we'll have something really nice for supper. OK?'
'OK,' I say in a small voice. 'Can we have chocolate ice-cream?'
'Of course we can,' says Lissy, opening the front door of our flat. 'Now, go on. You'll be fine!'
Feeling like a dog being shooed out, I go down the stairs and open the front door. I'm just stepping out of the house when a van pulls up at the side of the road. A man gets out in a blue uniform, holding the biggest bunch of flowers I've ever seen, all tied up with dark green ribbon, and squints at the number on our house.
'Hello,' he says. 'I'm looking for an Emma Corrigan.'
'That's me!' I say in surprise.
'Aha!' He smiles, and holds out a pen and clipboard. 'Well, this is your lucky day. If you could just sign here …'
I stare at the bouquet in disbelief. Roses, freesias, amazing big purple flowers … fantastic dark red pompom things … dark green frondy bits … pale green ones which look just like asparagus …
OK, I may not know what they're all called. But I do know one thing. These flowers are expensive.
There's only one person who could have sent them.
'Wait,' I say, without taking the pen. 'I want to check who they're from.'
I grab the card, rip it open, and scan down the long message, not reading any of it until I come to the name at the bottom.
Jack.
I feel a huge dart of emotion. After all he did, Jack thinks he can fob me off with some manky bunch of flowers?
All right, huge, deluxe bunch of flowers.
But that's not the point.
'I don't want them, thank you,' I say, lifting my chin.
'You don't want them?' The delivery man stares at me.
'No. Tell the person who sent them that thanks, but no thanks.'
'What's going on?' comes a breathless voice beside