with Mike Appleton whom she had a complete crush on, and never told her.
'No! Of course not!' I say, and quickly take a sip of water. 'Why? Have you got any from me?'
Two dots of pink appear on Lissy's cheeks.
'No, of course I haven't!' she says in an unnatural voice. 'I was just wondering.' She reaches
for the TV guide and starts to flip through it, avoiding my gaze. 'You know. Just out of
interest.'
'Yes, well.' I give a shrug. 'So was I.'
Wow. Lissy's got a secret. I wonder what it-
Of course. Like she was really going over case notes with that guy. Does she think I'm a
complete moron?
EIGHT
It should be easy enough. The Panther Corporation is a huge company in a huge building.
He'll be busy in other departments today. He'll probably be tied up in loads of meetings. He'll
probably spend all day on the eleventh floor or something.
Even so, as I approach the big glass doors, my pace slows down and I find myself peering
inside to see if he's about.
'All
right, Emma?' says Dave the security guard, coming to open the door for me. 'You look
lost.'
'No! I'm fine, thanks!' I give a relaxed little laugh, my eyes darting about the foyer.
I can't see him anywhere. OK. This is going to be fine. He probably isn't in yet. He probably
isn't even coming in today. I throw my hair back confidently, walk briskly across the marble
floor, and start to walk up the stairs.
'Jack!' I suddenly hear as I'm nearing the first floor. 'Have you got a minute?'
'Sure.'
It's his voice. Where on earth-
I turn around, bewildered, and spot him on the landing above, talking to Graham Hillingdon.
My heart gives a huge jump, and I clutch the brass banister. Shit. If he looked down now he'd
see me.
Why does he have to stand right there ? Doesn't he have some big important office he can go
to?
Anyway. It doesn't matter. I'll just take a different route. Very slowly I take a few steps
back down the stairs, trying not to click my heels on the marble or move suddenly in case I
attract his attention. Moira from Accounts walks past as I'm carefully stepping backwards and
gives me an odd look, but I don't care. I have to get away.
As soon as I'm out of his view I feel myself relax, and walk more quickly back down to the
foyer. I'll go by lift, instead. No problem. I step confidently across the floor, and I'm right in
the middle of the huge expanse of marble when I freeze.
'That's right.' It's his voice again. And it seems to be getting nearer. Or am I just paranoid?
' think I'll take a good look at'
My head swivels around. Where is he now? Which direction is he going in?
' really think that'
Shit. He's coming down the stairs. There's nowhere to hide!
Without thinking twice I almost run to the glass doors, push them open, and hurry out of the
building. I scuttle down the steps, run about a hundred yards down the road and stop, panting.
This is not going well.
I stand on the pavement for a few minutes in the morning sunshine, trying to estimate how
long he will stay in the foyer, then cautiously approach the glass doors again. New tactic. I
will walk to my office so incredibly quickly, I can't catch anyone's eye. So it won't matter if I
pass Jack Harper or not. I will simply stride along without looking right or left and oh my God
there he is, talking to Dave.
Without quite meaning to, I find myself running back down the steps and along the street
again.
This is getting ridiculous. I can't stay out here on the street all day. I have to get to my desk.
Come on, think. There must be a way round this. There must be-
Yes! I have a totally brilliant idea. This will definitely work.
Three minutes later I approach the doors of the Panther building once more, totally engrossed
in an article in The Times . I can't see anything around me. And no-one can see my face. This
is the perfect disguise!
I push the door open with my shoulder, walk across the foyer and up the stairs, all without
looking up. As I stride along the corridor towards the marketing department, I feel all
cocooned and safe, buried in my Times . I should do this more often. No-one can get me in
here. It's a really reassuring feeling, almost as though I'm invisible, or-
'Ow! Sorry!'
I've crashed into someone. Shit. I lower my paper, to see Paul staring at me, rubbing his head.
'Emma, what the fuck are you doing?'
'I was just reading The Times ,' I say feebly. 'I'm really sorry.'
'All right. Anyway, where the hell have you been? I want you to do teas and coffees at the
departmental meeting. Ten o'clock.'
'What teas and coffees?' I say, puzzled. They don't usually have any refreshments at the
departmental meeting. In fact, usually only about six people turn up.
'We're having teas and coffees today,' he says. 'And biscuits. All right? Oh, and Jack Harper's
coming along.'
'What?' I stare at him in consternation.
'Jack Harper's coming along,' repeats Paul impatiently. 'So hurry up.'
'Do I have to go?' I say before I can stop myself.