Chapter Twenty-Five #3
“Emma?” says Jack, coming in, holding two glasses of water in one hand. “Are you feeling OK? I got you both still and sparkling, because I wasn’t quite…”
He trails off in confusion, his eyes running over Jemima and Mick. In disbelief he takes in Mick’s card, still in my hand. Then his gaze falls on Mick’s turning tape recorder, and all the happiness seems to slide out of his face.
“I think I’ll just make myself scarce,” murmurs Mick, raising his eyebrows at Jemima. He slips the tape recorder into his pocket, picks up his rucksack, and sidles out of the room. Nobody speaks for a few moments. All I can hear is the throbbing in my head.
“Who was that?” says Jack at last. “A journalist?”
He looks as though someone just stamped on his garden.
“I…Jack…” I falter. “It’s not…it’s not…”
“Why…” He hesitates as though trying to make sense of the situation. “Why were you talking to a journalist?”
“Why do you think she was talking to a journalist?” chimes in Jemima proudly.
“What?” Jack slowly turns to Jemima with a look of dislike.
“You think you’re such a big shot millionaire! You think you can use little people! You think you can give away someone’s private secrets and completely humiliate them and get away with it! Well, you can’t!”
She takes a few steps toward him, folding her arms with satisfaction.
“Emma’s been waiting for a chance to get her revenge on you, and now she’s found it!
That was a journalist, if you want to know.
And he’s on your case. And when you find your little Scottish secret plastered all over the papers, then maybe you’ll know what it feels like to be betrayed!
And maybe you’ll be sorry! Tell him, Emma! Tell him!”
I’m paralyzed.
The minute she says the word “Scottish,” I see Jack’s face change. It kind of snaps. He almost looks winded with shock. He looks straight at me, and I can see the growing incredulity in his eyes.
“You might think you know Emma, but you don’t!” Jemima is continuing delightedly, like a cat tearing apart its prey. “You underestimated her, Jack Harper. You underestimated what she’s capable of!”
I try to speak—but not a sound comes out. Nothing in my body will work properly. I’m pinioned, staring helplessly at him with a face I know is covered with guilt.
Jack opens his mouth, then closes it again. Then he turns on his heel, pushes the door open, and walks out.
For a moment there’s silence in the tiny room.
“Well!” says Jemima, brushing her hands together with satisfaction. “That showed him!”
It’s as though she breaks the spell. Suddenly I can move again. I can draw breath. “You…” I’m almost shaking too much to speak. “You stupid…stupid…thoughtless…bitch!”
The door bursts open and Lissy appears, wide-eyed. “What the hell happened here?” she demands. “I just saw Jack storming out. He looked absolutely…like thunder!”
“She brought a journalist here!” I say in anguish, gesturing at Jemima. “A bloody tabloid journalist! And Jack found us all closeted here, and he thinks…God knows what he thinks.”
“You stupid cow!” Lissy slaps Jemima across the face. “What were you doing!”
“Ow! I was helping Emma get vengeance on her enemy!”
“He’s not my enemy, you stupid…” I’m on the verge of tears. “Lissy…what am I going to do? What?”
“Go,” she says, and looks at me with anxious eyes. “You can still catch him. Go.”
I tear out the door and through the courtyard, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my lungs burning. As I reach the road, I look frantically left and right. Suddenly I spot him, down the road.
“Jack, wait.”
He’s striding along with his mobile phone to his ear, and at my voice he turns around with a taut face. “So that’s why you were so interested in Scotland.”
“No!” I say, aghast. “No! Listen, Jack. They don’t know. They don’t know anything. I promise. I didn’t tell them about—” I stop myself. “All Jemima knows is that you were there. Nothing more. She was bluffing! I haven’t said anything!”
Jack doesn’t answer. His eyes search my face briefly, then he starts striding again.
“It was Jemima who called that guy, not me!” I cry desperately, running after him.
“I was trying to stop her…Jack, you know me! You know I would never do this to you. Yes, I told Jemima about your being in Scotland. I was hurt, and I was angry, and it…came out. And that was a mistake. But…but you made a mistake, too, and I forgave you!”
He’s not even looking at me. He’s not even giving me a chance. His silver car pulls up at the pavement, and he opens the passenger door.
I feel a stab of panic. “Jack, this wasn’t me,” I say frantically.
“It wasn’t. You have to believe me. That’s not why I asked about Scotland!
I didn’t want to…to sell your secret!” Tears are streaming down my face, and I roughly brush them away.
“I didn’t even want to know such a big secret.
I just wanted to know your little secrets!
Your little stupid secrets! I just wanted to know you… like you know me.”
But he doesn’t even look around. The door closes with a heavy clunk, and the car moves away down the road. And I’m left on the pavement, all alone.