by Unknown
‘I know. It turns out he’s semi-retiring in a couple of months and they wanted to give me some of his clients to see how I coped and to see if I was ready for the promotion.’
‘That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.’
I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a proper good snogging in congratulations.
‘I got a bottle of champagne on the way home from work, I’ll go and grab it.’
‘Great,’ I say screwing my face up as he goes. I can’t tell Mark that I need to be packing rather than celebrating. After all, I mean how often does he get a promotion like this? I’m sure it’s not going to take me that long to pack. As Mark comes back with the champagne flutes, I decide I’ll just get up extra early tomorrow morning to pack instead. It’ll be easy, chucking a few things in a backpack, it’s not like I have to pack things neatly or worry about creasing.
*
‘Is that what you’re taking?’ asks Mark.
I sense he’s laughing at me.
‘Yes, it’s the bare minimum.’
‘Right. I used that rucksack for my backpacking trip round Asia for twelve weeks. And it wasn’t that full.’
‘Well, I am organising the trip, so really I need to make sure I have something for every eventuality. I’ve got extra jumpers and tracksuits bottoms, two first-aid kits, emergency Snickers bars. You know, the essentials,’ I say shrugging nonchalantly.
‘Hmm.’
It turns out I’m not the queen of packing after all. Far from it being easier to shove things in a rucksack, it’s actually a lot trickier than packing into a rectangular suitcase where everything’s out in the open and you can rearrange things easily. I’m currently sitting on the bag, determined to get it done up. I had to scale up from my rucksack, which was never going to fit everything I needed.
Now, you’d think as I delivered the briefing that I would have known exactly what to pack, but I seem to have found a lot of grey areas this morning.
I mean what constitutes an essential? Tinted moisturiser? It’s not make-up and it has SPF in it, so I think that counts. Small vest? In case it’s boiling and I have to de-layer. Travel pillow? In case the pillows provided aren’t comfy enough. Flip-flops to walk around the camp in?
There also seem to be a few essentials that I seem to be missing. Remember when I was wondering why anyone would want a head torch or hiking socks? Well it turns out that both are listed under kit you should have. I’ve borrowed a couple of pairs of hiking socks from Mark, and they may have holes in and be a fair few sizes too big, but I’m sure it’s better than wearing my thin-as-a-pin Little Miss Sunshine socks.
And, as for a head torch, the closest I could find was a wind-up torch I carry in my car. I can’t quite mount it on my head, but at least I may be able to find my way to the loo in the middle of the night.
I stand back from the rucksack and give it a final look up and down. It’s as good as it’s going to get.
‘Do you want to give me a hand taking it down stairs?’ I say as I stand up from it and the sides that looked relatively compressed have immediately bulged out.
‘Don’t you need to be able to carry it?’
‘Yes, that’s why you should carry it down the stairs, you know, to preserve my arm muscles.’
‘Right. Can you actually lift it?’
‘Of course I can,’ I say as I clasp it by the straps and attempt to pick it up. OK, so it takes both hands to get it an inch off the ground, and I’m not entirely sure that I’m going to be able to swing it over my back, but at least I can lift it, right?
‘Come here,’ says Mark, picking the backpack up with one hand and throwing it on his back in what looks like an effortless motion. ‘Bloody hell, Pen. What on earth have you got in here?’
‘I may have to take some stuff out when I get there. Maybe I can dole out the Snickers to everyone tonight instead.’
‘That might be a good idea.’
As we walk down the stairs, I can’t see Mark or his cute bum as it’s eclipsed by the bulging bag. Perhaps I have packed too much.
‘Right then, shall I put it in the car for you?’
‘Yes, that would be great, thanks.’
All I need to do now is transfer it to the minibus and then I can dish out the chocolate which will drastically reduce the weight.
‘I’ll just grab my handbag.’
As I meet Mark outside by the car, I look up at the blazing July sunshine. I just hope that the weather is like this for Henri’s wedding on Saturday. I’ve given up hoping that it will stay this hot for our escape and evasion. I’ve seen the weather forecast, I’m a realist. But at least there’s no rain forecast.
‘Hope you have a lovely time,’ says Mark as he closes the boot.
‘Thanks, honey.’
He pulls me towards him for an early-morning kiss. With freshly brushed teeth it’s all minty and lovely.
‘Just remember, you’re in charge,’ says Mark. ‘And you’ll be fine.’
I’m not sure SSM will agree.
‘Thanks, honey. I’ll try and give you a call tonight.’
‘Great stuff. And, maybe this time next week, you’ll be the HR supervisor.’
‘Oh, don’t speak too soon. It’s going to be a long thirty-six hours. But imagine if I got it, both of us being promoted.’
‘Yeah, that would be fantastic. You’ll be great, Pen, everything will work out fine.’
‘Thanks, honey. Well, don’t forget, I’m going to go straight to the cricket club after the trip, to set up the marquee, so I probably won’t see you until late on Friday night.’
‘OK, I’ll see you then.’
Mark kisses me again and I get in my car. Today is going to be a good day, I start to chant over and over in my head.
*
I’m still trying to chant that mantra in my head as I go through my work day. This leaving at four p.m. isn’t the best idea. It means that the office is full of people sneering at those of us dressed in combat trousers as they know what horrors are to greet us. And those of us dressed in said combat trousers seem to have that ‘off on a school trip’ feeling that seems to make it impossible to do proper work, as you know you’re leaving any minute.
I’m trying to look busy when actually I’m killing time until I get to meet Gunther. He’s due here at midday and then he’s going for a lunch meeting with Giles. I’ve got to give them both a mini briefing about the trip, although without the fun of giving them a packing list as I emailed it to them both last week. And, hopefully, as this trip was Gunther’s idea, he won’t have any objections to sleeping in a hut, wearing army fatigues, or carrying his own backpack.
I’m just adding the finishing touches to my out-of-office reply (it takes time to get it just right) when my mobile rings.
I peer over it, and see it’s Henri.
I have a quick look at my watch. 11.41 a.m. I’ve got just under twenty minutes before Gunther arrives, but what if he’s early? I’m not going to make the best impression if I’m sat here on my mobile. But, on the other hand, it’s T-minus two days until her wedding, and I’m going off to deepest-darkest Sussex and deserting her. Hardly what a super-dooper J-Lo-type wedding planner would do.
‘Hello,’ I say, answering the phone as quietly as I can. I run out to the stairwell and take refuge in the ladies loos.
‘Penny, there’s an emergency. I repeat, an emergency.’
‘OK, Henri, just breathe. Now, we’ve been through this before, haven’t we?’ I say, trying to use calming and soothing tones. ‘Is this in the same league of emergency as the paper-cut you got from the table plan? Or like the napkins being too thin?’
In case you can’t tell, Henri and I have been having a lot of fun this week with the phone calls, emails and even tweets to my @princess_shoestring account. There’s really nothing for Henri to worry about, the marquee went up yesterday and it looks lovely. It won’t take long on Friday night to do the decorating, as it’s only really the homemade bunting a
nd the battery-powered fairylights in jam jar centrepieces that can be put out the night before. The rest: helium balloons to scatter round the ceiling of the tent, tablecloths and all the paper bits (things like seating charts and name places) can’t be done until the morning of the wedding because they’ll go damp overnight. But Henri has been worrying about everything. She even wanted me to check to see if the vicar marrying them was making sure he was taking Vitamin C so he didn’t get ill.
‘Worse, Penny, worse!’
‘OK, calm down.’ I wonder if the knives aren’t the right weight or the strawberries are too small for the Pimms. Unfortunately, Henri is suffering from a touch of the bridezillas. It’s mean of me to say, but I’m slightly looking forward to going out of the area for a day and a half. ‘Just talk me through the problem.’
‘It’s my sister’s bridesmaid dress. It doesn’t fit.’
‘What do you mean it doesn’t fit? Too big, too small?’
‘Too small. My sister must have been in denial when she told me she was still a UK size twelve. She can’t get the zip anywhere near done up.’
‘Is there any bit of the fabric that could be let out? Maybe you could take it to a local tailor.’
‘We’ve already tried. My sister put the dress on and the seamstress laughed. She said, short of putting an extra panel of fabric in it, she couldn’t wear it. I can’t not have her as a bridesmaid, and we can’t get new dresses as the napkins are the same shade of orange. The chances of us trying to find another dress in the right shade are miniscule. And we can’t afford to get both new dresses and new napkins. What do I do, Penny? What do I do?’
Henri’s talking in such a high-pitched voice that probably only me and dogs can hear her.
‘Just breathe, Henri. What about getting bridesmaid dresses in brown, you know they might compliment the orange.’
‘It will look like a flipping harvest festival.’
I think it would look really nice, but the number-one rule of wedding planning that I’ve realised is that it is not my wedding. And I have to at least get the bride to like it.
‘OK, what about us trying to get you another one of the dresses, have you looked online?’
‘Yes,’ says Henri.
Oh great, I can hear her sobbing.
‘Henri, this is a little bump along the way, we’ll be able to find a solution; we just need to think about it.’
‘Oh my God. You don’t even have a solution off the top of your head? I thought you’d know instantly what to do. I can’t just sit around here and wait, how will I cope?’
‘Henri, it will be fine.’
‘No, it won’t! My sister’s going to be walking down the aisle naked at this rate and—’
‘Henri, let’s be realistic. Have you phoned the London store to see if they have any left?’
‘What? No I haven’t, but I haven’t got any time to go up. How would I get it?’
‘Mark could pop in after work; they’ll be open until eight on Thursday.’
‘He’d do that for me?’ says Henri through her sobs.
‘I’m sure he would. Why don’t you phone them and see. They might be able to check the other stores locally too, maybe the Farnborough or Guildford stores will have them.’
‘Penny, you’re a legend.’
‘Let me know how you get on. If I don’t answer it’s because I’m on my way to Sussex and I’ll phone you tonight.’
‘Thanks, hon.’
I hang up the phone and look at my watch. Five minutes until Gunther’s ETA. I put my phone on silent and fix my hair in the mirror before leaving.
‘Gunther’s just arrived,’ says Shelly as I sit down at my desk. ‘Giles asked where you were, but I said I didn’t know.’
‘Thanks, Shelly,’ I say. Trust her to get in on the act. ‘Did they say for me to go in?’
‘Giles said he’d pop out in a bit. So, I’m off to lunch, did you want me to pick anything up for you, I’m guessing you’re not taking lunch as you’re leaving early?’
I look at Shelly. I know I’m leaving work an hour early, but it’s not like I’m going on a jolly holiday, is it? I’m going to spend the next thirty-six hours solidly at work, with colleagues. But nonetheless, I can’t admit to her that I was going to take a full hour for lunch, so instead I nod and ask her to pick me up a tuna salad sandwich.
My office phone rings and I see it’s Giles.
‘Hello, Giles,’ I say.
‘Penny, great you’re back. Do you want to come in and brief us?’
‘Sure,’ I say as enthusiastically as I can.
I walk towards Giles’ office making sure that my flies are done up, my V-neck top isn’t revealing too much cleavage, and that my phone isn’t in any of my pockets. I’m thinking there will be many more emergencies from Henri before the day is out.
I knock on the door and I wonder just what Gunther is going to be like.
‘Come in,’ says Giles.
I walk in the office and both Giles and Gunther stand up.
‘Gunther, this is Penny Robinson,’ says Giles motioning towards me like there are multiple candidates standing in the room.
‘Hello, Penny. It’s so lovely to meet you,’ says Gunther in a very unSwedish accent, in fact, he sounds very British. But his hair is Swedish blond and he has that Nordic cheekbone structure that makes him look confident and authoritative.
‘Hello, Gunther, nice to meet you,’ I say, shaking his very firm hand.
Oh dear. I had seen pictures of Gunther on the company intranet and in magazines, but I didn’t realise just how tall he is in real life. What is he, six foot seven or eight? Stop staring, Penny, it’s rude. But I can’t help it. I think if you’re over six foot seven or eight you can legally be called a giant. Amazing.
‘So, Penny, Giles tells me you’ve done an excellent job so far organising this trip and making those tiny changes for me.’
I almost laugh; tiny changes like moving it on a week and affecting the working schedule of thirty-four members of staff which led us to have to substitute six people. Six new medical forms, six new disclosures and six new risk assessments. But I’m glad that was only a tiny change, I’d have hated to see a major change.
‘Thank you, I’ve really enjoyed it. The logistics, the management, it’s been a great challenge.’
If I don’t get this promotion I’m going to investigate jobs that require you to be an awesome bullshitter. It would be a shame to waste a skill I’ve managed to develop.
‘Great stuff. Now, can you run us through the briefing as we’re off to Chez Vivant for lunch.’
Charming. They get to go to Chez Vivant for lunch whilst I eat my sad tuna salad roll at my desk. Mark’s right, I need to get this promotion.
‘OK, well, you’ve already had your emails about what to bring. I trust there weren’t any problems.’
Gunther’s PA had confirmed he’d read the email, but that still left room for doubt in my mind. I always prefer to hear things from the horse’s mouth.
I look wide-eyed to make sure neither of them are pulling a face that suggests that they forgot vital kit. I don’t really want to have to go on an emergency lunchtime shopping trip to get supplies. But, luckily for me, they both nod.
‘Great, so I’ve split everyone up into five teams of seven. The plan is that we’ve got three minibuses to take us there so everyone should be able to travel with their teammates. For extra bonding.’
‘I like that. That’s good. Are we in your team, Penny?’ asks Giles.
No, I’m not crazy, I nearly answer before I instead clear my throat. ‘Actually, I thought it would be more in the spirit of inter-departmental team-building if we were all in different teams.’
‘Oh, yes, good idea. We did that with the Swedish meditation training we did.’
Phew, I breathe a sigh of relief. I was a bit worried that they’d make me rearrange it so that they were in my team. Mark had wondered whether Giles would want to observe me from close quart
ers.
I go on to tell Giles and Gunther the rough outline for the next thirty-six hours. There is much nodding and, to my horror, Gunther is one of those people who looks at you as though he’s actually listening to what you’re saying, word for word, rather than working out what he’s going to have for tea. This is bad news for me, as I’m trying desperately to make sure that I don’t say anything about his giant status or whether he’ll be able to escape and evade as he’ll be head and shoulders above everyone else.
‘Sounds like you’ve got everything under control,’ says Gunther, staring at me intently. ‘And you managed to sort my meals out without too much of a problem?’
To be honest, even if I hadn’t sorted it out I would lie and say I had, as Gunther doesn’t seem to be the type of man to say no to.
‘Barry, the man in charge, said it will be fine.’ I don’t think those were his exact words, but I’m sure Gunther won’t mind me paraphrasing.
‘OK then. So, Giles, let’s go to lunch. Penny, are we meeting you back here?’
‘We’re all meeting in the west car park, at 1545,’ I say, getting far too into this whole military talk.
‘Excellent! See you then,’ says Gunther.
I walk back over to my desk. I look over at my phone and see that I’ve had two missed calls. Two isn’t bad, two doesn’t signify an emergency in Henri’s eyes. Obviously she’s only at Defcon-Five.
Giles and Gunther walk past my desk and they give me a little wave as they disappear off. No last-minute invite comes my way, unfortunately.
I wave back and pick up the phone to Henri.
‘What’s new, Scooby Doo?’ I say, who knows why.
‘Are you calling me a dog, Penny, in the week of my wedding?’ shrieks Henri.
‘No, no, I wasn’t. Henri, I wasn’t—’
‘I’m only kidding, sweetie. Now, I have good news.’
I breathe out the biggest sigh of relief. I thought, for a minute, I’d sent her over the edge.
‘Let’s have it then,’ I say, hoping that the Farnborough store have the dress in size fourteen.
