The pedestrian crossing starts bleeping, telling us to cross. This is my cue to storm off and him to come running after me — but neither of us moves. I want to storm off, but somehow my body isn't doing it. Somehow my body wants to hear more.

'Emma, when Pete and I started the Panther Corporation, you know how we worked?' Jack's dark eyes are burning into mine. 'You know how we made our decisions?'

I give a minuscule, tell-me-if-you-like shrug.

'Gut instinct. Would we buy this? Would we like this? Would we go for this? That's what we asked each other. Every day, over and over.' He hesitates. 'During the past few weeks, I've been immersed in this new women's line. And all I've found myself asking myself is … would Emma like it? Would Emma drink it? Would Emma buy it?' Jack closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them. 'Yes, you got info my thoughts. Yes, you fed into my work. Emma, my life and my business have always gotten confused. That's the way I've always been. But that doesn't mean my life isn't real.' He hesitates. 'It doesn't mean that what we had … we have … is any less real.'

He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets.

'Emma, I didn't lie to you. I didn't feed you anything. I was gripped by you the minute I met you on that plane. The minute you looked up at me and said, "I don't even know if I've got a G spot!" I was hooked. Not because of business … because of you. Because of who you are. Every single tiny detail.' The flicker of a smile passes over his face. 'From the way you pick out your favourite horoscope every morning to the way you wrote the letter from Ernest P. Leopold. To your exercise plan on the wall. All of it.'

His gaze is fixed on mine, and my throat feels tight, and my head is all confused. And for an instant I feel myself wavering.

Just for an instant.

'That's all very well,' I say, my voice shaking. 'But you embarrassed me. You humiliated me!' I turn on my heel and start striding across the road again.

'I didn't mean to say so much,' says Jack, following me. 'I didn't mean to say anything. Believe me, Emma, I regret it as much as you do. The minute we stopped, I asked them to cut out that part. They promised me they would. I was …' He shakes his head. 'I don't know, goaded, I got carried away …'

'You got carried away?' I feel a renewed surge of outrage. 'Jack, you exposed every single detail about me!'

'I know, and I'm sorry …'

'You told the world about my underwear … and my sex life … and my Barbie bedcover and you didn't tell them it was ironic …'

'Emma, I'm sorry—'

'You told them how much I weigh!' My voice rises to a shriek. 'And you got it wrong!'

'Emma, really, I'm sorry—'

'Sorry isn't good enough!' I wheel round furiously round to face him. 'You ruined my life!'

'I ruined your life?' He gives me a strange look. 'Is your life ruined? Is it such a disaster for people to know the truth about you?'

'I …I …' For a moment I flounder. 'You don't know what it was like for me,' I say, on firmer ground. 'Everyone was laughing at me. Everyone was teasing me, in the whole office. Artemis was teasing me—'

'I'll fire her,' Jack cuts me off firmly.

I'm so shocked, I give a half-giggle, then turn it into a cough.

'And Nick was teasing me—'

'I'll fire him too.' Jack thinks for a moment. 'How about this: anyone who teased you, I'll fire.'

This time I can't help giggling out loud.

'You won't have a company left.'

'So be it. That'll teach me. That'll teach me to be so thoughtless.'

For a moment we stare at each other in the sunshine. My heart's beating quickly. I'm not quite sure what to think.

'Would you like to buy some lucky heather?' A woman in a pink sweatshirt suddenly thrusts a foil-wrapped sprig in my face, and I shake my head irritably.

'Lucky heather, sir?'

'I'll take the whole basket,' says Jack. 'I think I need it.' He reaches into his wallet, gives the woman two £50 notes, and takes the basket from her. All the time, his eyes are fixed on mine.

'Emma, I want to make this up to you,' he says, as the woman hurries away. 'Could we have lunch? A drink? A … a smoothie?' His face crinkles into a tiny smile, but I don't smile back. I'm too confused to smile. I can feel part of me starting to unbend; I can feel part of me starting to believe him. Wanting to forgive him. But my mind is still jumbled up. Things are still wrong somewhere.

'I don't know,' I say, rubbing my nose.

'Things were going so well, before I had to go and fuck it up.'

'Were they?' I say.

'Weren't they?' Jack hesitates, gazing at me over the heather. 'I kind of thought they were.'

My mind is buzzing. There are things I need to say. There are things I need to get into the open. A thought crystallizes in my head.

'Jack … what were you doing in Scotland? When we first met.'

At once, Jack's expression changes. His face closes up and he looks away.

'Emma, I'm afraid I can't tell you that.'

'Why not?' I say, trying to sound light.

'It's … complicated.'

'OK, then.' I think for a moment. 'Where did you go rushing off to that night with Sven? When you had to cut our date short.'

Jack sighs.

'Emma—'

'How about the night you had all those calls? What were those about?'

This time, Jack doesn't even bother answering.

'I see.' I push my hair back, trying to stay calm. 'Jack, did it ever occur to you that in all our time together, you hardly told me anything about yourself?'

'I … guess I'm a private person,' says Jack. 'Is it such a big deal?'

'It's quite a big deal to me. I shared everything with you. Like you said. All my thoughts, all my worries, everything. And you shared nothing with me.'

'That's not true—' He steps forward, still holding the cumbersome basket, and several sprigs of heather fall to the ground.

'Practically nothing, then.' I close my eyes briefly, trying to sort my thoughts. 'Jack, relationships are all about trust and equality. If one person shares, then the other person should share, too. I mean, you didn't even tell me you were going to be on television.'

'It was just a dumb interview, for Chrissakes!' A girl with six shopping bags knocks yet more heather out of Jack's basket, and in frustration he dumps it on a passing motorcycle courier's pannier. 'Emma, you're over-reacting.'

'I told you all my secrets,' I say stubbornly. 'You didn't tell me any of yours.'

Jack gives a sigh.

'With all due respect, Emma, I think it's a little different—'

'What?' I stare at him in shock. 'Why … why should it be any different?'

'You have to understand. I have things in my life which are very sensitive … complicated … very important …'

'And I don't?' My voice bursts from me like a rocket. 'You think my secrets are less important than yours? You think I'm less hurt by you blurting them out on television?' I'm shaking all over, with fury, with disappointment. 'I suppose that's because you're so huge and important and I'm — what am I, again, Jack?' I can feel my eyes glittering with tears. 'A nothing-special girl? An "ordinary, nothing-special girl"?'

Jack winces, and I can see I've hit home. He closes his eyes and for a long time I think he isn't going to speak.

'I didn't mean to use those words,' he says, rubbing his forehead. 'The minute I said them, I wished I could take them back. I was … I was trying to evoke something very different from that … a kind of image He looks up. 'Emma, you have to know I didn't mean—'

'I'm going to ask you again!' I say, my heart pounding. 'What were you doing in Scotland?'

There's silence. As I meet Jack's eyes, I know he's not going to tell me. He knows this is important to me and he's still not going to tell me.

'Fine,' I say, my voice lurching slightly. 'That's fine. I'm obviously not as important as you. I'm just some amusing girl who provides you with entertainment on flights and gives you ideas for your business.'

'Emma—'

'The thing is, Jack, that's not a real relationship. A real relationship is two-way. A real relationship is based on equality. And trust.' I swallow the lump in my throat. 'So why don't you just go and be with someone on your level, who you can share your precious secrets with? Because you obviously can't share them with me.'

I turn sharply before he can say anything else, and stalk away, two tears rolling down my cheeks, trampling the lucky heather underfoot.

I don't get home until much later that evening. But I'm still smarting from our argument. I have a throbbing headache, and I feel on the verge of tears.

I open the door of the flat to find Lissy and Jemima in a full-scale argument about animal rights.

'The mink like being made into coats—' Jemima is saying as I push open the door to the living room. She breaks off and looks up. 'Emma! Are you all right?'

'No.' I sink down onto the sofa and wrap myself up in the chenille throw which Lissy's mum gave her for Christmas. 'I had a huge row with Jack.'

'With Jack?'

'You saw him?'

'He came to … well, to apologize, I guess.'

Lissy and Jemima exchange looks.

'What happened?' says Lissy, hugging her knees. 'What did he say?'

I'm silent for a few seconds, trying to remember exactly what he did say. It's all a bit jumbled up in my head now.

'He said … he didn't ever mean to use me,' I say at last. 'He said I got in his thoughts. He said he'd fire everyone in the company who teased me.' I can't help giving a half-giggle.