Part 23 (1/2)

'Look,' I say helplessly. 'I'm not who you think I am-'

'I can see that! I would never have thought you had this in you.' The woman squeezes my arm. 'Well, good for you. Have some fun, that's what I say! You took your wedding band off,' she adds, glancing at my left hand. 'Smart girl ... oops! He's coming! I'd better go!'

She lurches away again, as Jack sits back down in his place, and I lean forward, already half giggling. Jack is going to love this.

'Guess what!' I say. 'I have a husband called Jeremy! My friend over there just came over and told me. So what do you reckon? Has Jeremy been having a dalliance too?'

There's silence, and Jack looks up, a strained expression on his face.

'I'm sorry?' he says.

He wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

I can't say the whole thing again. I'll just feel stupid. In fact, I already feel stupid. 'It doesn't matter,' I say, and force a smile.

There's another silence and I cast around for something to say. 'So, um, I have a confession to make,' I say, gesturing to his plate. 'I pinched one of your scallops.'

I wait for him to pretend to be shocked, or angry. Or anything.

'That's OK,' he says abstractedly, and begins to fork the rest of them into his mouth.

I don't understand. What's happened? Where's the banter gone? He's completely changed.

By the time we've finished our tarragon chicken with rocket salad and chips, my entire body is tensed up with misery. This date is a disaster. A complete disaster. I've made every effort possible to chat, and joke and be funny. But Jack's taken two more calls, and the rest of the time he's been broody and distracted, and to be honest I might as well not be there.

I feel like crying with disappointment. I just don't understand it. It was going so well. We were getting on so fantastically. What went wrong?

'I'll just go and freshen up,' I say, as our main-course plates are removed, and Jack simply nods.

The Ladies is more like a palace than a loo, with gold mirrors, plushy chairs and a woman in uniform to give you a towel. For a moment I feel a bit shy about phoning Lissy in front of her, but she must have seen it all before, mustn't she?

'Hi,' I say, as Lissy picks up. 'It's me.'

'Emma! How's it going?'

'It's awful,' I say dolefully.

'What do you mean?' she says in horror. 'How can it be awful? What's happened?'

'That's the worst thing.' I slump into a chair. 'It all started off brilliantly. We were laughing and joking, and the restaurant's amazing, and he'd ordered this special menu just for me, all full of my favourite things ...'

I swallow hard. Now I put it like that, it does all sound pretty perfect.

'It sounds wonderful,' says Lissy in astonishment. 'So how come-'

'So then he had this call on his mobile.' I blow my nose. 'And ever since, he's barely said a word to me. He keeps disappearing off to take calls, and I'm left on my own, and when he comes back the conversation's all strained and stilted, and he's obviously only half paying attention.'

'Maybe he's worried about something, but he doesn't want to burden you with it,' says Lissy after a pause.

'That's true,' I say slowly. 'He does look pretty ha.s.sled.'

'Maybe something awful has happened but he doesn't want to ruin the mood. Just try talking to him. Share his worries!'

'OK,' I say, feeling more cheerful. 'OK, I'll try that. Thanks, Lissy.'

I walk back to the table feeling slightly more positive. A waiter materializes to help me with my chair, and as I sit down, I give Jack the warmest, most sympathetic look I can muster. 'Jack, is everything OK?'

He frowns.

'Why do you say that?'

'Well, you keep disappearing off. I just wondered if there was anything ... you wanted to talk about.'

'It's fine,' he says curtly. 'Thanks.' His tone is very much 'subject closed' but I'm not going to give up that easily.

'Have you had some bad news?'

'No.'

'Is it ... a business thing?' I persist. 'Or ... or is it some kind of personal ...'

Jack looks up, a sudden flash of anger in his face.

'I said, it's nothing. Quit it.'

Great. That puts me in my place, doesn't it?

'Would you both care for dessert?' A waiter's voice interrupts me, and I give him a strained smile.

'Actually, I don't think so.'

I've had enough of this evening. I just want to get it over and go home.

'Very well.' The waiter smiles at me. 'Any coffee?'

'She does want dessert,' says Jack, over my head.

What? What did he just say? The waiter looks at me hesitantly.

'No I don't!' I say firmly.

'Come on, Emma,' says Jack, and now his warm, teasing tone is back. 'You don't have to pretend with me. You told me on the plane, this is what you always say. You say you don't want a dessert, when really, you do.'

'Well, this time, I really don't.'

'It's specially created for you.' Jack leans forward. 'Haagen-Dazs, meringue, Bailey's sauce on the side ...'

Suddenly I feel completely patronized. How does he know what I want? Maybe I just want fruit. Maybe I want nothing. He has no idea about me. None at all.