by Anna Bell
I hear a thud, thud, thud, on the floor above and realise it’s Olivia heading towards the kitchen. I’ve got to get out of here quickly. If she catches me, she won’t let me leave until she’s got her present from Spain, and then I really will be late for work. Plus, I’ve got to nip to the post office to send my birth certificate special delivery to Danny so he can give it to the registrar tomorrow. Where are my bloody keys?
I suddenly remember that I was desperate for the loo when I got back last night and I’m relieved when I see my keys on the floor in the corner of the bathroom.
I scoop them up, grab my bag and hurry out the door before Olivia’s present radar starts going wild.
*
‘Happy New Year,’ I say walking into the little office at the back of the large hangar where we hold our events. I put a tray of Krispy Kreme doughnuts onto the table that we use for meetings and open the box. Almost immediately my colleagues head over like bees to honey.
‘Bloody hell, Lydia, I started my diet this morning,’ moans Helen as she gets up like a rocket and practically barges me out of the way to get a doughnut.
‘I really shouldn’t,’ says Lyn, our finance manager, ‘but I’ll just have one.’
Soon the whole office, aka all eleven of them, are hovering round the table and stuffing their faces.
‘It’s not your birthday, is it, Lydia? Surely it would have pinged up on Outlook.’
‘No,’ I say, taking a deep breath. I was sort of hoping that someone would have noticed the ring sparkling away on my finger, but everyone’s too busy getting their sugar rush on. ‘I, um, got engaged.’
I push my hand out in front of me in embarrassment and people start to pull it this way and that as they coo over the ring.
Helen stares at me in disbelief. ‘Who, Ross?’ she practically whispers.
‘No, an old friend. Danny. I ended up in Spain between Christmas and New Year and one thing led to another that led to – well, um, Gretna Green, actually. And now we’re getting married next month.’
‘Next month! Bloody hell, that’s not leaving you much time to plan it, is it?’
‘Well, it’s only going to be small. Just immediate family.’
‘How lovely,’ says Tracey. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, beaming.
‘Ohh, now this really calls for a glass or two of fizz,’ she says, going over to the fridge. I expect she won’t be thinking that when I give her my resignation in a few minutes.
‘Um, as much as I’d love that, I don’t know if I could handle a glass at 9 a.m., it’s been hard enough to try and get back into a work frame of mind as it is,’ I say, giggling a little.
‘Of course. How about we have a little tipple at lunchtime, then,’ she says, with a wink.
Everyone perks up a bit before drifting back to their desks.
‘Um, Tracey, is it possible to have a little chat with you?’ I ask, my heart pounding.
‘Of course. I was hoping to have a word with you this morning, too.’
‘Oh, right,’ I say, wondering what that’s about.
‘Do you want to come over now?’
I haven’t even had time to take my coat off, but I nod. I guess the sooner I get it over with the better.
She walks over to her office and I follow, my hands starting to shake.
I need to go first. I need to go in quick like I’m pulling off a plaster. Short and sweet.
‘So,’ she says as she indicates with her hand for me to sit down as she takes her chair. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation at the Christmas party. About the proms.’
‘Oh, right, well about that,’ I say, thinking that I want to pre-empt her before she tells me again why I would be wrong for the job.
‘I think I was a bit hasty and have been re-evaluating the situation. Yesterday I went through the figures and spoke with Christian. We’ve been looking at the schedule for the year ahead and think promoting you to event manager might solve a few of our issues.’
‘Oh right,’ I say, dropping my handbag with the resignation letter in it to the floor.
‘Obviously you’ve occasionally run our small events for us, so we thought we’d give you a test run to see how you get on. Helen’s been taking on a lot of new business lately so I’m going to get her to reassign a couple of her events that have already been planned for this month to you. Think of it as a one-month trial period and in the mean time we’ll also be assigning you new events to plan from scratch.’
My jaw is practically on the floor. This is what I have wanted for years. I’m positively ecstatic. Until I catch sight of the engagement ring on my hand which seems to be flashing at me as a reminder of what I’m supposed to be doing.
‘So, how does that sound?’ she asks, looking at me expectantly.
‘I, er,’ I stutter, as I reach for my handbag. ‘I’m lost for words. Thank you, Tracey, it’s a wonderful opportunity and I’m so flattered.’ I go to pull the letter out of my bag, but my hand won’t move. ‘And I’d be delighted to accept.’
‘Fantastic. Now I’ll speak to HR and get them to send over the Ts and Cs for the trial period and obviously there’ll be an adjustment in salary.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, not quite believing that this is happening.
‘So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’
‘Oh, I er,’ I stutter, pulling my bag close into my chest. I don’t want the letter to accidentally fall on the floor. Not when I’ve got my dream job offered to me on a plate. ‘I can’t remember now . . . No, it’s gone.’ I shrug my shoulders and shake my head a little.
‘Well, if you remember, just pop back in.’
‘I will do. Thank you for this opportunity, Tracey, you won’t regret it.’
She smiles and I take that as my cue to leave.
I walk out of the office and do a little fist pump.
I sit down, my cheeks flushed and my hands still shaking as it takes me a minute to compose myself.
‘Are you all right?’ asks Helen.
‘I just got a promotion. I’m going to be an events manager, too.’
‘Congratulations,’ she says, grinning.
‘You knew?’
‘I was in yesterday and Tracey had a word with me. I’m really happy and relieved – there’s just too much new business for me to do all of the events. And I’m so happy for you, too, you deserve it.’
‘Thanks, Helen.’
I’m just about to turn my attention to my overflowing inbox when my phone beeps.
DANNY WHITTAKER
Morning, Beautiful, I hated waking up without you this morning. Hope your first day back at work’s going well. Thinking about you and our new life. Did you talk to your boss yet? x x
I love the fact that he texts me when he feels like it. There’re no games or having to schedule when we’re going to speak to each other, as he just picks up the phone when he’s thinking of me. What I don’t love is the fact that I’m going to have to tell him that I didn’t quit my job.
I miss you too. First day back is going rather well and there’s a slight change of plan. I got a promotion! Yay! But that means I’m not moving as I’ve worked too hard for my dream job so you’ll have to move instead. OK? Love you xxx
Of course I don’t write that. Instead I text:
I miss you, too. Yes, spoke to my boss. It went well x x x
I instantly feel awful for lying, but in my defence it’s only a month’s probation. It might all go horribly wrong and then I can quit knowing that I’d make a crap events manager. And if it goes well, then it will look so much better on my CV, even if I do only have the job for a month, or two or three . . . I’m sure that Danny and I could live apart for a few months. It’s not like we’d be the first couple ever to do long distance. People in the Armed Forces do it all the time. They up and leave and don’t see each other for months on end. We’re only talking about not seeing each other midweek. It would be totally worth i
t in the long run. Better career prospects, more money for both of us etc., etc. I’m sure Danny will be well on board when I tell him tonight on the phone. As obviously I’m going to tell him tonight. Right after I’ve told him where I live.
DANNY WHITTAKER
Well done!! I’m off out with Gaz and Victoria tonight and won’t be back until late. I’ll text before I ring to check you’re still up. Although it’s nice to say I’ll be down to see you tomorrow night x x
ME
I know, sounds so much better. Even if you’re not going to make it down until after 11 p.m. x x
DANNY WHITTAKER
I’ll try and get there as quickly as I can. Better do some work, speak soon x x
I can’t stop grinning as I put my phone down and I’ve momentarily forgotten that I’m in the office.
‘Lover boy?’ asks Helen, as she sits down at her desk opposite me.
‘How can you tell?’ I say laughing.
‘So, what the bloody hell happened? And, more importantly, do you need ice?’
‘Oh yes. When Danny’s around, all the ice is needed.’
‘So he’s an old friend.’
‘Uh-huh, I’ve known him forever.’
‘I guess that explains why it’s a little on the quick side.’
‘We almost got together ten years ago, but the timing wasn’t right.’
‘And now it is?’ she says, as she flicks through her diary at the same time as talking to me.
‘Yes,’ I say resolutely. ‘It is.’
‘Then I’m super dooper happy for you. Does he live in Portsmouth, too?’
‘Not exactly. He lives in the Lake District.’
She flips her diary shut and looks up, giving me her full attention.
‘He lives where? What are you going to do when you’re married? Are you . . .?’ she says, checking over her shoulder to make sure that Tracey isn’t in earshot – ‘leaving?’ she mouths.
‘No, of course not. Not now that I’ve got the promotion. We’re just going to do long distance and he can work from home down here,’ I say, hoping that might be true.
‘Oh, thank God for that. I thought for a moment you were going to say that you were giving up your whole life to be with him,’ she says laughing.
‘Ha, ha, ha,’ I say, doing an over-the-top laugh back, as if it’s the funniest thing in the world and not exactly what I’d been planning to do up until ten minutes ago.
‘Yeah, it’s a bit of a stretch to think you’d move up there, what with all your friends and family down here. You’re so close to your family, aren’t you?’
I think of my mum popping in when she’s passing and of Kerry and Olivia. As much as I’m embarrassed that at the ripe old age of thirty I’m still living with my family, I’m going to miss them terribly when I move out. I’ve got so used to the thud, thud, thud of Olivia doing her fairy elephant dancing and her shrieking as she comes down the stairs to see me. I know that I’m going to miss seeing her every day and watching her grow up. And then there’s Lucy. The older you get the harder it is to make friends.
If I’m only going to be here for another few months, then I’ll have to make sure that I appreciate them more.
I realise that I’ve been staring into space for a long time and I turn back to Helen. She’s looking at me carefully and gives me a little smile.
‘I’m so glad you’re staying though,’ she says, smiling. ‘Who else am I going to have to cover my arse when I get myself into trouble?’ she says lowering her voice. ‘Thanks for that. I’d just found—’
‘Crisis meeting, everyone,’ says Tracey, walking up to us.
My cheeks immediately flush and I wonder if she’s about to tell us that the company’s gone into a sudden financial crisis and my promotion is no longer on the table.
‘Helen, Lydia, Jasmine, Matt to the table,’ says Tracey, calling the operations team over. ‘I’ve just had a phone call from Henry’s House about their black-tie Valentine’s Event. They’re concerned about the theme of the masquerade ball as it turns out that there’s a Help for Heroes charity ball with the same theme the week before.’
‘Does it matter?’ asks Helen. ‘Surely they’ll have different audiences. One’s a military charity and the other’s a children’s hospice.’
‘They’re worried enough to want a different theme, and the trouble is that we’ve ordered everything already. It’s all black and white, so we need to think of another idea that will work with the props and staging.’
There’s silence at the table – our brains all still fuzzy from the break. Instinctively, we all look at Helen. Tracey was spot on before Christmas when she said that she was the fun one. She always comes up with creative ideas.
‘What about the 1920s? We could do a speakeasy. We’ve got the props from the Christmas parties we did a few years ago,’ she says.
‘That was the first thing I mentioned to them and they didn’t think that a speakeasy was in keeping with the charity.’
I’m a little gutted as I have the best flapper dress that I wear to those events. It’s got gorgeous black tassels and a tiny black headband that matches.
‘There must be something else,’ says Tracey, looking desperately at our blank faces.
I stare at my ring, which seems to have been flashing at me ever since I accepted the promotion. I think of the wedding and everything it stands for and I try to stop feeling so guilty by imagining me and Danny on our wedding day. By the time this ball that we’re talking about comes around, I’ll be married. I’ll have worn a lovely dress (I’m going to replace the Zara one) and I’ll have a shiny wedding band to go with the engagement ring.
But it’s the dress I can’t stop thinking about. I can’t wait to find something quite a bit longer with a lot of swish.
‘I’ve got it,’ I say, surprising myself. It’s as if the promotion has turned me into a creative genius. ‘Why don’t we do a wedding-dress ball? You know, women wear their wedding dresses or bridesmaid dresses. Men can wear suits, I guess. Maybe, as Henry’s House is so well known locally, some of the suit-hire shops will do a special discount for people hiring for the night.’
Everyone’s quiet for a second before Tracey’s face lights up.
‘I love it,’ she says. ‘But I’m a bit worried that people might not be able to fit into their dresses.’
‘Then we’ll put on the flyers that you can come as a wedding guest if you want to,’ I say. ‘It could be the ultimate wedding reception.’
‘Is it a DJ or a band that night?’ asks Matt.
‘It’s a band. The Wizards – we used them last year for the event and I have a feeling they do weddings, too,’ says Tracey, nodding. ‘Then Dave is DJing during the breaks.’
‘Ooh, we could get people who buy tickets to say what their wedding song is and Dave could do one of his mash-ups using the different songs,’ suggests Jasmine.
‘I love that,’ says Tracey, clapping her hands together with delight. ‘This is perfect. I know that Henry’s House are going to love it. Well done, Lydia. Great idea.’
I feel my cheeks flush with pride. Helen gives me a thumbs-up.
‘Right, so, Lydia, you’ll be managing the event. So start by looking into how these wedding-dress balls work and let’s make a list of any extra props or theming we could use from the stores to tie it all in a little better.’
‘OK,’ I say, scribbling on my notepad.
‘Great, thanks everyone,’ she says, getting up and we all follow her lead.
‘Well done, Lydia. Awesome idea. I’ll have to dig out my wedding dress from my loft and maybe I’ll buy a ticket,’ says Jasmine as I walk back over to our desks. ‘I’ve been dying to wear it again.’
‘It’s a great idea,’ says Helen. ‘Everyone loves a good wedding and this way it’s without all the expense of having to fork out for the present and the hen do.’
I smile back, pleased at myself. Not that I have time to dwell on it. My inbox is calling to me. Dec
ember’s always such a blur in the office as we spend most of our time in the events space and we only react to the most urgent of emails, which means that today, when I open my inbox, I have 900+ emails to sort through.
‘Coffee?’ asks Jasmine.
‘Yes, please,’ I say, nodding, as I’m about to dive in. I’m just clicking on the first email when a new email notification pops up in the corner of my screen and I realise it’s from Tracey.
FROM: TRACEY WOOD ([email protected])
TO: PETRA THOMSON ([email protected])
CC: LYDIA STOKER ([email protected])
SUBJECT: Promotion LYDIA STOKER
Petra,
Further to the informal chat yesterday I am delighted to write and tell you that Lydia will be accepting the promotion, provisionally for a one-month period. Please can you follow up with a revised contract and salary details.
Yours,
Tracey
I have to reread the email a number of times for it to really sink in. I am actually getting this promotion.
I look down at my ring and I think of Danny. I’ve never felt so torn. I want to be with him, only I want my promotion too. What am I going to do?
Chapter Seventeen
I’m sorry I didn’t make it over for your mum’s big birthday bash. I hear from Mum it was a good one. I hear there was minimal pants flashing too so I guess that’s a bonus? I would have actually loved to have come to Portsmouth, I don’t think I’ve been since I was at uni. Perhaps next time I’m over I’ll come and visit.
Email; Danny to Lydia, July 2016
Despite me actually only having two days back at work, it still feels as if it’s been a long week as I pull up outside my house. I’m looking forward to having a long hot soak in the tub, and having a bit of a rest before Danny arrives later tonight. I don’t even have to cook as I’m grabbing a curry with Kerry and Jim upstairs.
I groan as I think about Danny. Not at the thought of seeing him, I’m ridiculously excited about that, but because I still haven’t told him where I live. I got home from work quite late last night and I was so exhausted from the holiday and travelling back down from the Lake District that I fell asleep not long after I got home. I made the fatal mistake of slipping into bed to read whilst I waited for Danny to text and the next thing I knew it was morning already.
