Love to Hate You by Anna Premoli Page A

night?” I ask, worriedly. Vera's usually back to herself by Sunday morning, but it looks like today might be an exception.
    â€œI didn’t
drink
anything last night!” she exclaims, sounding offended. “I was home with tummy ache.”
    Something very weird is going on.
    â€œWell it can't be me. It must be someone who looks like me,” I say assuredly.
    â€œJennifer, trust me – it’s you. And you’re with Ian.”
    At those words, I look over at him, and he looks back at me questioningly.
    â€œOk, I’ll pick up a copy and call you back,” I say, starting to feel my own fear rising.
    Ian looks at me with concern. “Bad news?” he asks.
    â€œI’m not sure. My friend says that
we
are in the gossip column of the
Sun
. But she must have got me mixed up with someone else.”
    â€œOf course—” he says. But strangely enough, he doesn’t sound totally convinced of his own words.
    I leave the table quickly and go off to find the governess. She’s in the lobby with Elizabeth. The poor girl looks quite upset, and is gripping a newspaper. Oh, God!
    â€œGood morning,” I say chirpily to both of them.
    The governess grunts some sort of answer, while Elizabeth gives me a confused look. “Good morning,” she answers, in a very faint voice.
    â€œAre you having breakfast with us? I think Ian's waiting for you in the dining room.” But she doesn’t bite. It must be serious.
    She walks down the stairs and gives the newspaper to the governess. Now I’ll have to get it off that old bulldog, who is already glaring at me as if she's all set to bite. I’m guessing it won’t be easy. Right at that moment, Ian appears at the door. “Oh, the paper! Just what I was looking for,” he says. Cunning thing!
    The housekeeper can’t avoid giving it to him, but she’s annoyed and she does nothing to disguise the fact.
    Ian grabs the Sun and starts climbing the stairs towards his room, me behind him, ignoring the withering looks from down in the hall.
    I catch up with him quickly and snatch the newspaper from his hands. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a look,” I say nervously.
    â€œI do mind, actually, because I’d like to give it a look myself first,” he answers, snatching it back, and we bicker all the way to his room. Ian slips inside, and I follow him.
    â€œI did think, at least, that I wouldn't have to defend myself from this type of thing with
you
, Miss Percy,” he says, sarcastically.
    I rip the newspaper from his hands.
    â€œOh don't talk rubbish!”
    Strangely, Ian is smiling as he tries to defend himself from me.
    â€œCome on, let’s find these pictures,” he says as he sits down at a table. As I imagined, his room is basically a luxury apartment, and a very impressive one to boot. The table he’s sitting at is a Louis XVI – a real one, for a change.
    â€œWhere’s the gossip page?” he asks, as he starts leafing through it.
    â€œHow would I know?” I answer. I mean, come on – this isn't the type of thing I normally read!
    Ian snorts. “You are a woman, at least in theory. What kind of woman are you if you never read the gossip columns?” he accuses me.
    â€œI’m obviously a woman who doesn’t read gossip columns. There’re a few of us around, hadn't you heard?”
    â€œHow shocking,” he says.
    â€œYes, I can imagine it must be.”
    After a moment we finally find the page we're looking for, and there we are. The picture is out of focus, but it's clearly us. The article’s headline is “New Flame for the Duke of Revington’s Heir” and it shows us outside the place we met the other night, as we were saying goodbye. I’m touching his arm and he’s holding my hand.
    â€œGod—” I say, taking a deep breath. Ian says nothing, so I start reading the article.
    â€œ'The