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 single doorbell

in every bloody alley in the vicinity. It never once occurred to me that this might happen. Not

once. I never even thought to-

OK, I'm being stupid. I'll call Lissy! She'll tell me. I pull out my mobile and dial home, but

immediately it clicks onto answerphone.

'Hi, Lissy, it's me,' I say, trying to sound light and casual. 'A tiny little hitch has happened,

which is that I can't remember exactly which door the club is behind. Or actually… which

alley it's in either. So if you get this, could you give me a call? Thanks!'

I look up to see Jack watching me.

'Everything OK?'

'Just a slight glitch,' I say, and give a relaxed little laugh. 'There's this secret club along here

somewhere, but I can't quite remember where.'

'Never mind,' says Jack nicely. 'These things happen.'

I jab the number for home again, but it's engaged. Quickly I dial Lissy's mobile number, but

it's switched off.

Oh fuck. Fuck. We can't stand here in the street all night.

'Emma,' says Jack cautiously. 'Would you like me to make a reservation at-'

'No!' I jump as though stung. Jack's not going to reserve anything. I've said I'll organize this

evening, and I will. 'No thanks. It's OK.' I make a snap decision. 'Change of plan. We'll go to

Antonio's instead.'

'I could call the car…' begins Jack.

'We don't need the car!' I stride purposefully towards the main road and thank God, a taxi's

coming along with its light on. I flag it down, open the door for Jack and say to the driver,

'Hi, Antonio's on Sanderstead Road in Clapham, please.'

Hurrah. I have been grown-up and decisive and saved the situation.

'Where's Antonio's?' says Jack, as the taxi begins to speed away.

'It's a bit out of the way, in south London. But it's really nice. Lissy and I used to go there

when we lived in Wandsworth. It's got huge pine tables, and gorgeous food, and sofas and

stuff. And they never chivvy you.'

'It sounds perfect.' Jack smiles, and I smile proudly back.

OK, it should not take this long to get from Clerkenwell to Clapham. We should have got

there ages ago. I mean, it's only down the road!

After about half an hour, I lean forward and say to the driver yet again, 'Is there a problem?'

'Traffic, love.' He gives an easy shrug. 'What can you do?'

You can find a clever traffic-avoiding back route like taxi drivers are supposed to! I want to

yell furiously. But instead I say politely, 'So… how long do you think it'll be before we get

there?'

'Who knows?'

I sink back on my seat, feeling my stomach churning with frustration.

We should have gone somewhere in Clerkenwell. Or Covent Garden. I am such a moron…

'Emma, don't worry,' says Jack. 'I'm sure it'll be great when we get there.'

'I hope so,' I say with a weak smile.

I can't make small talk. I'm using every ounce of concentration in willing the taxi to go faster.

I stare out of the window, giving an inward cheer every time the postcodes on the street signs

get closer to where we want to be. SW3… SW11… SW4!

At last! We're in Clapham. Nearly there…

Shit. Another bloody red traffic light. I almost can't keep still on my seat And the driver's just

sitting there, like it doesn't matter.

OK, it's green! Go! Go now!

But he's pulling off in this leisurely way, as though we've got all day… he's chuntering down

the street… now he's giving way to another driver! What is he doing?

OK. Calm down, Emma. Here's the street. We're finally here.

'So this is it!' I say, trying to sound relaxed as we get out of the taxi. 'Sorry it took a while.'

'No problem,' says Jack. 'This place looks great!'

As I hand the fare to the taxi driver, I have to admit I'm pretty pleased we came. Antonio's

looks absolutely amazing! There are fairy lights decorating the familiar green facade, and

helium balloons tied to the canopy, and music and laughter spilling out of the open door. I can

even hear people singing inside.

'It's not normally quite this buzzing!' I say with a laugh, and head for the door. I can already

see Antonio standing just inside.

'Hi!' I say as I push the door open. 'Antonio!'

'Emma!' says Antonio, who's standing by the door holding a glass of wine. His cheeks are

flushed and he's beaming even more widely than usual. 'Bellissima!' He kisses me on each

cheek, and I feel a flood of warm relief. I was right to come here. I know the management.

They'll make sure we have a wonderful time.

'This is Jack,' I say, grinning at him.

'Jack! Wonderful to meet you!' Antonio kisses Jack on each cheek too, and I giggle.

'So, could we have a table for two?'

'Ah…' He pulls a face of regret. 'Sweetheart, we're closed!'

'What?' I stare back at him, baffled. 'But… but you're not closed. People are here!' I look

around at all the merry faces.

'It's a private party!' He raises his glass to someone across the room and shouts something in

Italian. 'My nephew's wedding. You ever meet him? Guido. He served here a few summers

ago.'

'I… I'm not sure.'

'He met a lovely girl at the law school. You know, he's qualified now. You ever need legal

advice…'

'Thanks. Well… congratulations.'

'I hope the party goes well,' says Jack, and squeezes my arm briefly. 'Never mind, Emma, you

couldn't have known.'

'Darling, I'm sorry!' says Antonio, seeing my face. 'Another night, I'll give you the best table

we have. You call in advance, you let me know…'

'I'll do that,' I manage a smile. 'Thanks, Antonio.'

I can't even look at Jack. I dragged him all the way down to bloody Clapham for this.

I have to redeem this situation. Quickly.

'We'll go to the pub,' I say as soon as we're outside on the pavement. 'I mean, what's wrong

with just sitting down with a nice drink?'

'Sounds good,' says Jack mildly, and follows me as I hurry down the street to a sign reading

The Nag's Head, and push the door open. I've never been in this pub before, but surely it's

bound to be fairly-

OK. Maybe not.

This has to be the grimmest pub I've ever seen in my life. Threadbare carpet, no music, and

with no signs of life except a single man with a paunch.

I cannot have a date with Jack in here. I just can't.

'Right!' I say, swinging the door shut again, 'Let's think again.' I quickly look up and down the

street, but apart from Antonio's everything is shut except for a couple of grotty takeaway

places and a minicab firm. 'Well… let's just grab a taxi and head back to town!' I say, with a

kind of shrill brightness. 'It won't take too long.'

I stride to the edge of the pavement and stick out my hand.

During the next three minutes not a single car passes by. Not just no taxis. No vehicles at all.

'Kind of quiet,' observes Jack at last.

'Well, this is really a residential area. Antonio's is a bit of a one-off.'

Outwardly, I'm still quite calm. But inside I'm starting to panic. What are we going to do?

Should we try to walk to Clapham High Street? But it's bloody miles away.

I glance at my watch and see with a dart of shock that it's 9.15. We've spent over an hour

faffing about and we haven't even had a drink. And it's all my fault. I can't even organize one

simple evening without it going catastrophically wrong.

Suddenly I want to burst into tears. I want to sink down on the pavement and bury my head in

my hands and sob.

'How about pizza?' says Jack, and my head jerks up in sudden hope.

'Why? Do you know a pizza place round-'

'I see pizza for sale.' He nods at one of the grotty takeaway places. 'And I see a bench.' He

gestures to the other side of the road, where there's a tiny railed garden with paving and trees

and a wooden bench. 'You get the pizza.' He smiles at me. 'I'll save the bench.'

I have never felt so mortified in my entire life. Ever.

Jack Harper takes me to the grandest, poshest restaurant in the world. And I take him to a park

bench in Clapham.

'Here's your pizza,' I say, carrying the hot boxes over to where he's sitting. 'I got margarita,

ham and mushroom and pepperoni.'

I can't quite believe this is going to be our supper. I mean, they aren't even nice pizzas. They

aren't even gourmet, roasted-artichoke type of pizzas. They're just cheap slabs of dough pastry

with melted, congealed cheese, and a few dodgy toppings.

'Perfect,' says Jack with a smile. He takes a large bite, then reaches into his inside pocket.

'Now, this was supposed to be your going home present, but since we're here…'

I gape as he produces a small, stainless steel cocktail shaker and two matching cups. He

unscrews the top of the shaker and to my astonishment, pours a pink, transparent liquid into

each cup.

Is that…

'I don't believe it!' I gaze at him, wide-eyed.

'Well, come on. I couldn't let you wonder all your life what it tasted like, could I?' He hands

me a cup and raises his towards me. 'Your good health.'

'Cheers.' I take a sip of the cocktail… and oh my God it's yummy. Sharp and sweet, with a

kick of vodka.

'Good?'

'Delicious!' I say, and take another sip.

He's being so nice to me. He's pretending he's having a good time. But what does he think

inside? He must despise me. He must think I'm a complete and utter dizzy cow.

'Emma, are you OK?'

'Not really,' I say in a thick voice. 'Jack, I'm so sorry. I really am. I honestly had it all planned.

We were going to go to this really cool club where celebrities go, and it was going to be really

good fun…'

'Emma.' Jack puts his drink down and looks at me. 'I wanted to spend this evening with you.

And that's what we're doing.'

'Yes. But-'

'That's what we're doing,' he repeats firmly.

Slowly he leans towards me and my heart starts to pound. Oh my God. Oh my God. He's

going to kiss me. He's going to-

'Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrrgh!'

I leap up off the bench in total panic. A spider is running up my leg. A big black spider. 'Get it

off!' I say, frantically.'Get it off!'

With one brisk swipe, Jack brushes the spider off onto the grass, and I subside back on the

bench, my heart racing.

And of course, the mood's completely ruined. Great. Just marvellous. Jack tries to kiss me and

I shriek in horror. I'm really doing splendidly tonight.

Why was I so pathetic? I think furiously. Why did I scream? I should have just gritted my

teeth!

Not literally gritted my teeth, obviously. But I should have been cool. In fact, I should have

been so swept away that I didn't even notice the spider.

'I don't suppose you're afraid of spiders,' I say to Jack, giving an awkward laugh. 'I don't

suppose you're afraid of anything.'

Jack gives a noncommittal little smile in return.

'Are you afraid of anything?' I persist.

'Real men don't get afraid,' he says jokily.

In spite of myself, I feel a tiny prickle of discontent. Jack's not the best person in the world at

talking about himself.

'So, where did you get this scar?' I ask, gesturing to his wrist.

'It's a long, boring story.' He smiles. 'You don't want to hear it.'

I do! my mind immediately says. I do want to hear it. But I just smile, and take another sip of

my drink.

Now he's just staring ahead into the distance, as if I'm not even there.

Did he forget about kissing me?

Should I kiss him? No. No.

'Pete loved spiders,' he says suddenly. 'Kept them as pets. Huge, furry ones. And snakes.'

'Really?' I pull a face.

'Crazy. He was a crazy fucking guy.' He exhales sharply.

'You… still miss him,' I say hesitantly.

'Yes. I still miss him.'

There's another silence. In the distance I can hear a group of people leaving Antonio's,

shouting to each other in Italian.

'Did he leave any family?' I say cautiously, and immediately Jack's face closes up.

'Some,' he says.

'Do you see them still?'

'Occasionally.' He exhales sharply, then turns and smiles. 'You have tomato sauce on your

chin.' As he reaches up to wipe it away, he meets my eyes. Slowly, he's bending towards me.

Oh my God. This is it, this is really it. This is-'

'Jack.'

We both leap in shock, and I drop my cocktail on the ground. I turn round, and stare in utter

disbelief. Sven is standing at the gate of the tiny garden.

What the bloody fuck is Sven doing here?

'Great timing,' murmurs Jack. 'Hi, Sven.'

'But… but what's he doing here?' I stare at Jack. 'How did he know where we were?'

'He called while you were getting the pizza.' Jack sighs and rubs his face. 'I didn't know he'd

get here this quickly. Emma… something's come up. I need to have a quick word with him. I

promise it won't take long. OK?'

'OK,' I say with a little shrug. After all, what else can I say? But inside, my whole body is

pulsing in frustration, bordering on anger. Trying to keep calm, I reach for the cocktail shaker,

pour the remains of the pink cocktail into my cup and take a deep swig.

Jack and Sven are standing by the gate having an animated conversation in low voices. I take

a sip of cocktail and casually shift along the bench so I can hear better.

'… what to do from here…'

'… plan B… back up to Glasgow…'

'… urgent…'

I look up and find myself meeting Sven's eye. Quickly I look away again, pretending to be

studying the ground. Their voices descend even lower, and I can't hear a word. Then Jack

breaks off and comes towards me.

'Emma… I'm really sorry about this. But I'm going to have to go.'

'Go?' I stare at him in dismay. 'What, now?'

'I'm going to have to go away for a few days. I'm sorry.' He sits down beside me on the bench.

'But… it's pretty important.'

'Oh. Oh, right.'

'Sven's ordered a car for you to take you home.'

Great, I think savagely. Thanks a lot, Sven.

'That was really… thoughtful of him,' I say, and trace a pattern in the dirt with my shoe.

'Emma, I really have to go,' says Jack, seeing my face. 'But I'll see you when I get back, OK?

At the Corporate Family Day. And we'll… take it from there.'

'OK.' I try to smile. 'That would be great.'

'I had a good time tonight.'

'So did I,' I say, staring down at the bench. 'I had a really good time.'

'We'll have a good time again.' Gently he lifts my chin until I'm looking straight at him, 'I

promise, Emma.'

He leans forward and this time there's no hesitation. His mouth lands on mine, sweet and firm.

He's kissing me. Jack Harper is kissing me on a park bench.

His mouth is opening mine, his stubble is rough against my face. His arm creeps around me

and pulls me towards him, and my breath catches in my throat. I find myself reaching under

his jacket, feeling the ridges of muscle beneath his shirt, wanting to rip it off. Oh God, I want

this. I want more.

Suddenly he pulls away, and I feel as if I've been wrenched out of a dream.

'Emma, I have to go.'

My mouth is prickly wet. I can still feel his skin on mine. My entire body is throbbing. This

can't be the end. It can't.

'Don't go,' I hear myself saying thickly. 'Half an hour.'

What am I suggesting? That we do it under a bush?

Frankly, yes. Anywhere would do. I have never in my life been so desperate for a man.

'I don't want to go.' His dark eyes are almost opaque. 'But I have to.' He takes my hand, and I

cling onto his, trying to prolong contact for as long as possible.

'So… I'll… I'll see you.' I can barely talk properly.

'I can't wait.'

'Neither can I.'

'Jack.' We both look up to see Sven at the gate.