'I've never worn any of the ties my mother has given me for Christmas. I've always wanted to

be an inch or two taller than I am. I… I don't know what co-dependent means. I have a

recurring dream in which I'm Superman, falling from the sky. I sometimes sit in board

meetings and look around and think "Who the hell are these guys?"'

He draws breath and gazes at me. His eyes are darker than I've ever seen them.

'I met a girl on a plane. And… my whole life changed as a result.'

Something hot is welling up inside me. My throat is tight, my whole head aching. I'm trying

so hard not to cry, but my face is contorting all by itself.

'Jack,' I swallow desperately. 'I didn't… I really didn't…'

'I know,' he cuts me off with a nod. 'I know you didn't.'

'I would never-'

'I know you wouldn't,' he says gently. 'I know you wouldn't.'

And now I can't help it, tears start flooding out of my eyes in sheer relief. He knows. It's OK.

'So…' I wipe my face, trying to gain control of myself. 'So does this… does this mean…

that we I can't bring myself to say the words.

There's a long, unbearable silence.

If he says no, I don't know what I'll do.

'Well, you might want to hold back on your decision,' says Jack at last, and gives me a

deadpan look. 'Because I have a lot more to tell you. And it isn't all pretty.'

I give a shaky laugh.

'You don't have to tell me anything.'

'Oh, I do,' says Jack firmly. 'I think I do. Shall we walk?' He gestures to the courtyard.

'Because this could take some time.'

'OK,' I say, my voice still wobbling a bit. Jack holds out an arm, and after a pause, I take it.

'So… where was I?' he says, as we step down into the courtyard. 'Oh, OK. Now this you

really can't tell anybody.' He leans close and lowers his voice. 'I don't actually like Panther

Cola. I prefer Pepsi.'

'No!'I say, shocked.

'In fact, sometimes I decant Pepsi into a Panther can-'

'No!' I give a snort of laughter.

'It's true. I told you it wasn't pretty…'

Slowly we start to walk around the edge of the dark, empty courtyard together. The only

sound is the crunching of our feet on the gravel, and the breeze in the trees and Jack's dry

voice, talking. Telling me everything.

TWENTY-SEVEN

It's amazing what a different person I am these days. It's as if I've been transformed. I'm a new

Emma. Far more open than I used to be. Far more honest. Because what I've really learned is,

if you can't be honest with your friends and colleagues and loved ones, then what is life all

about?

The only secrets I have nowadays are tiny little essential ones. And I hardly have any of those.

I could probably count them on the fingers of one hand. I mean, just off the top of my head:

1. I'm really not sure about Mum's new highlights.

2. That Greek-style cake Lissy made for my birthday was the most disgusting thing I've ever

tasted.

3. I borrowed Jemima's Ralph Lauren swimsuit to go on holiday with Mum and Dad, and I

bust one of the straps.

4. The other day when I was navigating in the car, I nearly said 'What's this big river all round

London?' Then I realized it was the M25.

5. I had this really weird dream last week, about Lissy and Sven.

6. I've secretly starting feeding Artemis's spider plant 'Rebuild' plant food.

7. I'm sure Sammy the goldfish has changed again. Where did that extra fin come from?

8. I know I have to stop giving out my 'Emma Corrigan, Marketing Executive' card to

complete strangers, but I just can't help it.

9. I don't know what advanced pro-ceramides are. (I don't even know what backward proceramides

are.)

10. Last night, when Jack said 'What are you thinking about?' and I said 'Oh nothing…' that

wasn't quite true. I was actually planning the names of all our children.

But the thing is, it's completely normal to have the odd little secret from your boyfriend.

Everyone knows that.