Can You Keep a Secret?(16)
Author: Sophie Kinsella

‘Nev!’ says Mum half reprovingly.

‘Emma knows I’m joking, don’t you, Emma?’ says Nev easily and fills up his glass with more wine.

‘Of course!’ I say, forcing myself to smile gaily.

Just wait till I get promoted.

Just wait. Just wait.

‘Emma! Earth to Emma!’ Kerry is waving a comical hand in front of my face. ‘Wake up, Dopey! We’re doing presents.’

‘Oh right,’ I say, coming to. ‘OK. I’ll just go and get mine.’

As Mum opens a camera from Dad and a purse from Grandpa, I start to feel excited. I so hope Mum likes my present.

‘It doesn’t look much,’ I say as I hand her the pink envelope. ‘But you’ll see when you open it …’

‘What can it be?’ Mum says, looking intrigued. She rips open the envelope, opens the flowered card, and stares at it. ‘Oh, Emma!’

‘What is it?’ says Dad.

‘It’s a day at a spa!’ says Mum in delight. ‘A whole day of pampering.’

‘What a good idea,’ says Grandpa, and pats my hand. ‘You always have good ideas for presents, Emma.’

‘Thank you, love. How thoughtful!’ Mum leans over to kiss me, and I feel a warm glow inside. I had the idea a few months ago. It’s a really nice day-long package, with free treatments and everything.

‘You get champagne lunch,’ I say eagerly. ‘And you can keep the slippers!’

‘Wonderful!’ says Mum. ‘I’ll look forward to it. Emma, that’s a lovely present!’

‘Oh dear,’ says Kerry, giving a little laugh. She looks at the large creamy envelope in her own hands. ‘My present’s slightly upstaged, I’m afraid. Never mind. I’ll change it.’

I look up, alert. There’s something about Kerry’s voice. I know something’s up. I just know it.

‘What do you mean?’ says Mum.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ says Kerry. ‘I’ll just … find something else. Not to worry.’ She starts to put the envelope away in her bag.

‘Kerry, love!’ says Mum. ‘Stop that! Don’t be silly. What is it?’

‘Well,’ says Kerry. ‘It’s just that Emma and I seem to have had the same idea.’ She hands Mum the envelope with another little laugh. ‘Can you believe it?’

My whole body stiffens in apprehension.

No.

No. She can’t have done what I think she’s done.

There’s complete silence as Mum opens the envelope.

‘Oh my goodness!’ she says, taking out a gold embossed brochure. ‘What’s this? Le Spa Meridien?’ Something falls out, into her hands, and she stares at it. ‘Tickets to Paris? Kerry!’

She has. She’s ruined my present.

‘For both of you,’ adds Kerry, a little smugly. ‘Uncle Brian, too.’

‘Kerry!’ says Dad in delight. ‘You marvel!’

‘It is supposed to be rather good,’ says Kerry with a complacent smile. ‘Five-star accommodation … the chef has three Michelin stars …’

‘I don’t believe this,’ says Mum. She’s leafing excitedly through the brochure. ‘Look at the swimming pool! Look at the gardens!’

My flowery card is lying, forgotten, amid the wrapping paper.

All at once I feel close to tears. She knew. She knew.

‘Kerry, you knew,’ I suddenly blurt out, unable to stop myself. ‘I told you I was giving Mum a spa treat. I told you! We had that conversation about it, months ago. In the garden!’

‘Did we?’ says Kerry casually. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘You do! Of course you remember.’

‘Emma!’ says Mum sharply. ‘It was a simple mistake. Wasn’t it, Kerry?’

‘Of course it was!’ says Kerry, opening her eyes in wide innocence. ‘Emma, if I’ve spoiled things for you, I can only apologize—’

‘There’s no need to apologize, Kerry love,’ says Mum. ‘These things happen. And they’re both lovely presents. Both of them.’ She looks at my card again. ‘Now, you two girls are best friends! I don’t like to see you quarrelling. Especially on my birthday.’

Mum smiles at me, and I try to smile back. But inside, I feel about ten years old again. Kerry always manages to wrong-foot me. She always has done, ever since she arrived. Whatever she did, everyone took her side. She was the one whose mother had died. We all had to be nice to her. I could never, ever win.

Trying to pull myself together, I reach for my wine glass and take a huge swig. Then I find myself surreptitiously glancing at my watch. I can leave at four if I make an excuse about trains running late. That’s only another hour and a half to get through. And maybe we’ll watch telly or something …

‘A penny for your thoughts, Emma,’ says Grandpa, patting my hand with a little smile, and I look up guiltily.

‘Er … nothing,’ I say, and force a smile. ‘I wasn’t really thinking about anything.’

FIVE

Anyway. It doesn’t matter, because I’m going to get a promotion. Then Nev will stop making cracks about my career, and I’ll be able to pay back Dad. Everyone will be really impressed — and it’ll be fantastic!

I wake up on Monday morning feeling totally bouncy and positive, and get dressed in my usual work outfit of jeans and a nice top, this one from French Connection.