Can You Keep a Secret?
Page 18
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It's not that I don't like crochet …
OK. It is that I don't like crochet.
Especially pink scoop-neck open-weave crochet tops. You can actually see glimpses of her bra through it.
'It's … amazing,' I manage at last. 'Absolutely fantastic!'
'Isn't it great?' She gives me a pleased smile. 'And it was so quick to do! I'm going to make the matching skirt next.'
'That's great,' I say faintly. 'You're so clever.'
'Oh, it's nothing! I just enjoy it.'
She smiles modestly, and puts her jacket back on. 'So anyway, how about you?' she adds as we start to cross the road. 'Did you have a nice weekend? I bet you did. I bet Connor was completely wonderful and romantic. I bet he took you out for dinner or something.'
'Actually, he asked me to move in with him,' I say awkwardly.
'Really?' Katie gazes wistfully at me. 'God, Emma, you two make the perfect couple. You give me faith that it can happen. It all seems so easy for you.'
I can't help feeling a little flicker of pleasure inside. Me and Connor. The perfect couple. Role models for other people.
'It's not that easy,' I say with a modest little laugh. 'I mean, we argue, like anyone else.'
'Do you?' Katie looks surprised. 'I've never seen you argue.'
'Of course we do!'
I rack my brain for a moment, trying to remember the last time Connor and I had a fight. I mean, obviously we do have arguments. Loads of them. All couples do. It's only healthy.
Come on, this is silly. We must have—
Yes. There was that time by the river when I thought those big white birds were geese and Connor thought they were swans. Exactly. We're normal. I knew it.
We're nearing the Panther building now, and as we walk up the pale stone steps, each with a granite panther jumping across it, I start feeling a bit nervous. Paul will want a full report on how the meeting went with Glen Oil.
What shall I say?
Well, obviously I'll be completely frank and honest. Without actually telling him the truth—
'Hey, look.' Katie's voice interrupts me and I follow her gaze. Through the glass front of the building I can see a commotion in the foyer. This isn't normal. What's going on?
God, has there been a fire, or something?
As Katie and I push our way through the heavy revolving glass doors, we look at each other in bewilderment. The whole place is in turmoil. People are scurrying about, someone's polishing the brass banister, someone else is polishing the fake plants, and Cyril, the senior office manager, is shooing people into lifts.
'Could you please go to your offices! We don't want you hanging around the reception area. You should all be at your desks by now.' He sounds completely stressed out. 'There's nothing to see down here! Please go to your desks.'
'What's happening?' I say to Dave the security guard, who's lounging against the wall with a cup of tea as usual. He takes a sip, swills it around his mouth and gives us a grin.
'Jack Harper's visiting.
'What?' We both gawp at him.
'Today?'
'Are you serious?'
In the world of the Panther Corporation, this is like saying the Pope's visiting. Or Father Christmas. Jack Harper is the joint founder of the Panther Corporation. He invented Panther Cola. I know this because I've typed out blurbs about him approximately a million times. 'It was 1987 when young, dynamic business partners Jack Harper and Pete Laidler bought up the ailing Zoot soft-drinks company, repackaged Zootacola as Panther Cola, invented the slogan "Don't Pause", and thus made marketing history.'
No wonder Cyril's in a tizz.
'In about five minutes.' Dave consults his watch. 'Give or take.'
'But … but how come?' says Katie. 'I mean, just out of the blue like this.'
Dave's eyes twinkle. He's obviously been telling people the news all morning and is thoroughly enjoying himself.
'He wants to have a look round the UK operation, apparently.'
'I thought he wasn't active in the business any more,' says Jane from Accounts, who's come up behind us in her coat and is listening, agog. 'I thought ever since Pete Laidler died he was all grief-stricken and reclusive. On his ranch, or whatever it is.'
'That was three years ago,' points out Katie. 'Maybe he's feeling better.'
'Maybe he wants to sell us off, more like,' says Jane darkly.
'Why would he do that?'
'You never know.'
'My theory,' says Dave, and we all bend our heads to listen, 'is he wants to see if the plants are shiny enough.' He nods his head towards Cyril, and we all giggle.
'Be careful,' Cyril is snapping. 'Don't damage the stems.' He glances up. 'What are you all still doing there?'
'Just going!' says Katie, and we head towards the stairs, which I always use because it means I don't have to bother with the gym. Plus luckily Marketing is on the first floor. We've just reached the landing when Jane squeaks 'Look! Oh my God! It's him!'
OK. It is that I don't like crochet.
Especially pink scoop-neck open-weave crochet tops. You can actually see glimpses of her bra through it.
'It's … amazing,' I manage at last. 'Absolutely fantastic!'
'Isn't it great?' She gives me a pleased smile. 'And it was so quick to do! I'm going to make the matching skirt next.'
'That's great,' I say faintly. 'You're so clever.'
'Oh, it's nothing! I just enjoy it.'
She smiles modestly, and puts her jacket back on. 'So anyway, how about you?' she adds as we start to cross the road. 'Did you have a nice weekend? I bet you did. I bet Connor was completely wonderful and romantic. I bet he took you out for dinner or something.'
'Actually, he asked me to move in with him,' I say awkwardly.
'Really?' Katie gazes wistfully at me. 'God, Emma, you two make the perfect couple. You give me faith that it can happen. It all seems so easy for you.'
I can't help feeling a little flicker of pleasure inside. Me and Connor. The perfect couple. Role models for other people.
'It's not that easy,' I say with a modest little laugh. 'I mean, we argue, like anyone else.'
'Do you?' Katie looks surprised. 'I've never seen you argue.'
'Of course we do!'
I rack my brain for a moment, trying to remember the last time Connor and I had a fight. I mean, obviously we do have arguments. Loads of them. All couples do. It's only healthy.
Come on, this is silly. We must have—
Yes. There was that time by the river when I thought those big white birds were geese and Connor thought they were swans. Exactly. We're normal. I knew it.
We're nearing the Panther building now, and as we walk up the pale stone steps, each with a granite panther jumping across it, I start feeling a bit nervous. Paul will want a full report on how the meeting went with Glen Oil.
What shall I say?
Well, obviously I'll be completely frank and honest. Without actually telling him the truth—
'Hey, look.' Katie's voice interrupts me and I follow her gaze. Through the glass front of the building I can see a commotion in the foyer. This isn't normal. What's going on?
God, has there been a fire, or something?
As Katie and I push our way through the heavy revolving glass doors, we look at each other in bewilderment. The whole place is in turmoil. People are scurrying about, someone's polishing the brass banister, someone else is polishing the fake plants, and Cyril, the senior office manager, is shooing people into lifts.
'Could you please go to your offices! We don't want you hanging around the reception area. You should all be at your desks by now.' He sounds completely stressed out. 'There's nothing to see down here! Please go to your desks.'
'What's happening?' I say to Dave the security guard, who's lounging against the wall with a cup of tea as usual. He takes a sip, swills it around his mouth and gives us a grin.
'Jack Harper's visiting.
'What?' We both gawp at him.
'Today?'
'Are you serious?'
In the world of the Panther Corporation, this is like saying the Pope's visiting. Or Father Christmas. Jack Harper is the joint founder of the Panther Corporation. He invented Panther Cola. I know this because I've typed out blurbs about him approximately a million times. 'It was 1987 when young, dynamic business partners Jack Harper and Pete Laidler bought up the ailing Zoot soft-drinks company, repackaged Zootacola as Panther Cola, invented the slogan "Don't Pause", and thus made marketing history.'
No wonder Cyril's in a tizz.
'In about five minutes.' Dave consults his watch. 'Give or take.'
'But … but how come?' says Katie. 'I mean, just out of the blue like this.'
Dave's eyes twinkle. He's obviously been telling people the news all morning and is thoroughly enjoying himself.
'He wants to have a look round the UK operation, apparently.'
'I thought he wasn't active in the business any more,' says Jane from Accounts, who's come up behind us in her coat and is listening, agog. 'I thought ever since Pete Laidler died he was all grief-stricken and reclusive. On his ranch, or whatever it is.'
'That was three years ago,' points out Katie. 'Maybe he's feeling better.'
'Maybe he wants to sell us off, more like,' says Jane darkly.
'Why would he do that?'
'You never know.'
'My theory,' says Dave, and we all bend our heads to listen, 'is he wants to see if the plants are shiny enough.' He nods his head towards Cyril, and we all giggle.
'Be careful,' Cyril is snapping. 'Don't damage the stems.' He glances up. 'What are you all still doing there?'
'Just going!' says Katie, and we head towards the stairs, which I always use because it means I don't have to bother with the gym. Plus luckily Marketing is on the first floor. We've just reached the landing when Jane squeaks 'Look! Oh my God! It's him!'
