'Did you leave the window open?' says Lissy. 'Because I read this article recently, about how monkeys are being sent into houses to steal things.'
'Monkeys?' Jemima stares at her.
'Apparently. The thieves train them.'
Jemima looks perplexedly from Lissy to me, and I force myself to keep a straight face.
'Anyway,' I say quickly, to change the subject. 'You might like to know that you were wrong about Jack. I'm going out with him again tonight. It wasn't a disastrous date at all!'
There's no need to add the small detail that we had a big row and I stormed out and he had to follow me to the bus stop. Because the point is, we're having a second date.
'I wasn't wrong,' says Jemima. 'You just wait. I predict doom.'
I pull a face at her behind her back as she leaves, and start putting on my mascara 'What's the time?' I say, frowning as I blob a bit on my eyelid.
'Ten to eight,' says Lissy. 'How are you going to get there?'
'Cab.'
Suddenly the buzzer goes, and we both look up.
'He's early,' says Lissy. 'That's a bit weird.'
'He can't be early!' We hurry into the sitting room, and Lissy gets to the window first.
'Oh my God,' she says, looking down to the street below. 'It's Connor.'
'Connor?' I stare at her in horror. 'Connor's here?'
'He's holding a box of stuff. Shall I buzz him up?'
'No! Pretend we're not in!'
'Too late,' says Lissy, and pulls a face. 'Sorry. He's seen me.'
The buzzer sounds again, and we look at each other helplessly.
'OK,' I say at last. 'I'm going down.'
Shit shit shit …
I pelt downstairs and breathlessly open the door. And there, standing on the doorstep, is Connor, wearing the same martyred expression he had at the office.
'Hi,' he says. 'Here are the things I was telling you about. I thought you might need them.'
'Er, thanks,' I say, grabbing the box, which seems to contain one bottle of L'Oréal shampoo and some jumper I've never seen in my life. 'I haven't quite sorted out your stuff yet, so I'll bring it to the office, shall I?'
I dump the box on the stairs, and quickly turn back before Connor thinks I'm inviting him in.
'So, um, thanks,' I say. 'It was really good of you to stop by.'
'No problem,' says Connor. He gives a heavy sigh. 'Emma … I was thinking perhaps we could use this as an opportunity to talk. Maybe we could have a drink, or supper even.'
'Gosh,' I say brightly. 'I'd love that. I really would. But to be honest, now isn't a completely brilliant time.'
'Are you going out?' His face falls.
'Um, yes. With Lissy.' I glance surreptitiously at my watch. It's six minutes to eight. 'So anyway, I'll see you soon. You know, around the office …'
'Why are you so flustered?' Connor is staring at me.
'I'm not flustered!' I say, and lean casually against the doorframe.
'What's wrong?' His eyes narrow suspiciously, and he looks past me into the hall. 'Is something going on?'
'Connor,' I put a reassuring hand on his arm. 'Nothing's going on. You're imagining things.'
At that moment, Lissy appears behind me at the door.
'Um, Emma, there's a very urgent phone call for you,' she says in a really stilted voice. 'You'd better come straight away … oh, hello Connor!'
Unfortunately Lissy is the worst liar in the world.
'You're trying to get rid of me!' says Connor, looking from Lissy to me in bewilderment.
'No we're not!' says Lissy, flushing bright red.
'Hang on,' says Connor suddenly, staring at my outfit. 'Hang on a minute. I don't … are you going on a … date?'
My mind works quickly. If I deny it, we'll probably get into some huge argument. But if I admit the truth, maybe he'll stalk off in a huff.
'You're right,' I say. 'I've got a date.'
There's a shocked silence.
'I don't believe this,' says Connor, shaking his head, and to my dismay, sinks heavily down onto the garden wall. I glance at my watch. Three minutes to eight. Shit!
'Connor …'
'You told me there wasn't anyone else! You promised, Emma!'
'There wasn't! But … there is now. And he'll be here soon … Connor, you really don't want to get into this.' I grab his arm and try to lift him up, but he weighs about twelve stone. 'Connor, please. Don't make this more painful for everyone.'
'I suppose you're right.' At last Connor gets to his feet. 'I'll go.'
He walks to the gate, his back hunched in defeat, and I feel a pang of guilt, mixed with an urgent desire for him to hurry. Then, to my horror, he turns back.
'So, who is it?'
'It's … it's someone you don't know,' I say, crossing my fingers behind my back. 'Look, we'll have lunch soon and have a good talk. Or something, I promise.'
'OK,' says Connor, looking more wounded than ever. 'Fine. I get the message.'
I watch, unable to breathe, as he shuts the gate behind him and walks slowly along the street. Keep walking, keep walking … don't stop …