Chapter Twenty #3
“I’m being a feminist, actually,” retorts Jemima.
“We women have to stand up for our rights. You know, before she married my father, Mummy went out with this scientist chap who practically jilted her. He changed his mind three weeks before the wedding—can you believe it? So one night she crept into his lab and pulled out all the plugs of his stupid machines. His whole research was ruined! She always says, That taught Emerson!”
“Emerson?” says Lissy, staring at her in disbelief. “As in…Emerson Davies?”
“That’s right! Davies.”
“Emerson Davies who nearly discovered a cure for smallpox?”
“Well, he shouldn’t have messed Mummy about, should he?
” says Jemima mutinously. She turns to me.
“Another of Mummy’s tips is chili oil. You somehow arrange to have sex with the chap again, and then you say, ‘How about a little massage oil?’ And you rub it into his…
you know.” Her eyes sparkle. “That’ll hurt him where it counts! ”
“Your mother told you this?” says Lissy.
“Yes!” says Jemima. “It was rather sweet, actually. On my eighteenth birthday she sat me down and said we should have a little chat about men and women—”
Lissy is staring at her incredulously. “In which she instructed you to rub chili oil into men’s genitals?”
“Only if they treat you badly!” says Jemima in annoyance. “What is your problem, Lissy? Do you think you should just let men walk all over you and get away with it? Great blow for feminism!”
“I’m not saying that!” says Lissy. “I just wouldn’t get my revenge with…chili oil!”
“Well, what would you do, then, clever clogs?” says Jemima, putting her hands on her hips.
“OK!” says Lissy. “If I were going to stoop so low as to get my revenge—which I never would, because personally I think it’s a huge mistake…” She pauses for breath. “I’d do exactly what he did. I’d expose one of his secrets.”
“Actually…that’s rather good,” says Jemima grudgingly.
“Humiliate him, “says Lissy with a tiny air of vindication. “Embarrass him. See how he likes it!”
They both turn and look at me expectantly. “But I don’t know any of his secrets,” I say.
“You must!” says Jemima.
“I don’t! Lissy, you had it right all along. Our relationship was completely one-sided. I shared all my secrets with him…but he didn’t share any of his with me. He didn’t tell me anything. We weren’t soul mates. I was a completely deluded moron.”
“Emma, you weren’t a moron,” says Lissy, putting a hand on mine. “You were just trusting.”
“Trusting…moron…it’s the same thing…”
“You must know something!” says Jemima. “You slept with him, for goodness’ sake! He must have some secret. Some…weak point!”
“An Achilles’ heel,” puts in Lissy, and Jemima gives her an odd look.
“It doesn’t have to do with his feet,” Jemima says, and turns to me, pulling a Lissy’s-lost-it face. “It could be anything. Anything at all. Think back!”
I close my eyes and cast my mind back. But my mind’s swirling a bit from all that brandy. Secrets…Jack’s secrets…Think back…
Scotland.
I open my eyes, feeling a tingle of exhilaration. I do know one of his secrets.
“What?” says Jemima. “Have you remembered something?”
“He…” I stop, feeling torn.
I did make a promise to Jack.
But then, so what? So bloody what? My chest swells in emotion again. Why on earth am I keeping any stupid promise to him? It’s not like he kept my secrets to himself, is it?
“He was in Scotland!” I say. “The first time we met after the plane, he asked me to keep it a secret that he was in Scotland.”
“Why did he do that?” says Lissy.
“I dunno.”
“What was he doing in Scotland?” puts in Jemima.
“I…dunno.”
There’s a pause.
“Hmm,” says Jemima kindly. “It’s not the most embarrassing secret in the world, is it? I mean, plenty of smart people live in Scotland. Haven’t you got anything better? Like…does he wear a chest wig?”
“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!”
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 rumor that he was taking bribes from the Communist party, and passed it around 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 shakes her head.
“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. “Who do you think I am? Anyway.” I stare into my brandy, 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.”