Don’t tell the Boss Read online

  My cheeks flush as I’ve probably been away from my desk for a noticeably long absence.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve just got off the phone with an engineer in the Design Department and he wants to report that one of his colleagues is running another business in company time. I’m going to need you to investigate it with me. I’m not up to scratch with current legislation in the UK for dismissal, so I want you to lead on this. I’ll be overseeing it, of course.’

  My mouth drops open. Giles’s view on moonlighting has put me in a state of shock.

  chapter eleven

  princess-on-a-shoestring top tips:

  DIY Wedding Items

  This might sound like I’m telling you to suck eggs, but don’t leave your DIY wedding items until the last minute. The day before your wedding is going to be stressful enough making sure everything’s delivered to the venue, and that you’re pampered, preened and ready for the big day. You don’t want to be printing orders of service or writing place names before you go to bed. If you can, get all the stuff you’re making out the way early on. Give yourself deadlines and if it looks like you’re going to struggle to get it done in time, ask for help. It’s better to find out three weeks in advance that you need an extra pair of hands rather than the day before. For more inspiration on just what you can make, check out my DIY section.

  Tags: wedding, organisation, planning.

  I open the door of our terrace and I immediately hear cackling. My heckles rise. Just who is Mark entertaining? All I want to do is have a long, hot soak and watch Keeping up with the Kardashians. It’s been a long afternoon of meetings and investigations into the moonlighter.

  ‘Pen, is that you?’

  I’m about to reply no and ask him just who else he thinks has a key, but I realise I’m just being mean and tired.

  ‘Yep,’ I call out instead.

  Mark walks out of the kitchen door. He still makes me swoon sometimes when I see him. Tonight he’s dressed in a work shirt, no tie and he has a tea-towel slung over his shoulder. He comes over and gives me a kiss on the head.

  ‘Henri’s here, I’ve just served her up some dinner. I wasn’t sure what time you were going to be back, and you weren’t answering your phone.’

  ‘Oh my God, Henri! I’d forgotten that I’d asked her over. Has she been here long?’

  With all the meetings and investigations into the woman running her own company, Henri coming over had completely slipped my mind.

  ‘About half an hour.’

  ‘Mark, I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

  ‘Don’t be, it’s fine. We’ve been having a chat.’

  ‘Great.’ I’m wondering just what they’ve been talking about, but as long as he doesn’t mind that I’ve left him alone with a crazy bridezilla then I’m happy.

  ‘Hi, Henri, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,’ I say, walking into the kitchen. Henri’s sat digging into what looks and smells like fish pie.

  ‘Don’t apologise, Mark has been keeping me fed and watered. Tell me, is Mark the catering option for the wedding? Because, seriously, this fish pie is to die for.’

  ‘If only. At one point I thought about trying to get Mark to cater our wedding, but it’s a bit much to get the groom to do it!’

  ‘That’s a shame. But your food sounded wonderful, Mark’s been telling me all about it.’

  ‘Just the food?’ I say, my voice a little shaky.

  ‘About the wedding in general.’

  I look up to Mark and I guess he understands what I’m hinting at.

  ‘I was telling Henri how you thought it would be sweet to organise the wedding as a surprise for me. And I was telling her about the little details that made it memorable.’

  I breathe a sigh of relief. For a minute I thought Mark might have mentioned my little faux pas with the gambling and my real need for the ‘don’t tell the groom’. It might have been a bit too close to home for Henri.

  ‘It sounds like a lovely idea. I’d have loved to have done something similar for Nick, but he does like to know everything that’s going on. Keeps an eye on just what I’m up to. Not in a scary doesn’t-let-me-do-anything kind of a way though!’ she says laughing.

  ‘Of course not,’ I say, suppressing a smile. I can’t imagine that any man could stop Henri doing what she wanted. It does, however, make me think that perhaps she doesn’t realise what an effect her puppy-dog eyes have on him. Perhaps, I’ll keep that as another one of his secrets.

  ‘So, Pen, what’s the big mystery? Henri and I have been guessing.’

  I look up at Mark and wonder who this man is and what he’s done with my husband. Clearly Henri’s magic works on more men than just Nick. Mark’s interest in my wedding planning is practically non-existent ‘So, today I went for lunch at the college.’

  ‘What were you doing there?’ laughs Henri.

  Oh, shit. What was I doing there? I would have thought with all the lying I’d done last year that I’d be able to think on my feet, but I really can’t.

  ‘I was … I was meeting with one of the tutors; we’re thinking of helping them with an insight into industry day. You know, get some workers to go in and get the students interested in business.’

  Wow, I’ve impressed myself, and actually that isn’t a bad idea. It would make a nice little puff piece for the local rag, they always love those kind of ‘big business does good’ stories. Maybe I’ll suggest that to Giles, once the moonlighter situation has calmed down. I imagine Giles would like the idea; it’s right up his street. Who knows, it could get me a step closer to the promotion.

  ‘That sounds great, is that all part of Operation Brown Nose?’ asks Mark.

  ‘What’s that?’ asks Henri.

  ‘Penny’s up for a big promotion at work.’

  ‘Penny, that’s amazing. Why didn’t you say?’

  I’d like to say that it’s because I can’t get a word in edgeways with Henri and her wedding talk. But, if I’m being honest, it’s because when I’m with Henri and talking weddings I forget all about my actual life and it’s as if they’re completely separate. And I love the planning so much that I almost don’t let the HR stuff, and the real world, intrude. Instead, I pretend I’m a full-time wedding planner.

  ‘Penny’s probably being modest,’ says Mark before I can answer for myself. Mark is positively beaming and he looks so proud of me. I feel a bit guilty about all the time I’m spending not working towards the promotion. ‘Well, Penny, good luck.’

  ‘Thanks, so I was saying,’ I say, desperately trying to change the subject as I don’t want to think about work any longer. ‘I had dinner at the college and the food was divine.’

  ‘Really?’ says both Mark and Henri in a way that suggests that I said that I tucked into to a meal of contaminated needles.

  ‘Yeah, they have this fancy restaurant on the top floor and basically the trainee chefs on the catering courses cook the food, so you get amazing quality really cheap. I had three courses,’ I say. I wonder if, technically, I had four courses as I did have two desserts. We’ll just ignore that, Mark doesn’t have to know everything. ‘And it came to eight pounds.’

  ‘Wow, that’s great value,’ says Henri.

  ‘Yeah, it really was. I had the most delicious pork in brandy dish.’

  If I wasn’t currently eating a yummy fish pie, I’d probably be wishing I was still tucking into it. Quite how I am still eating after the amount I ate at lunch, is anyone’s guess. I had meant to phone Mark this afternoon to let him know not to cook for me but, like most of my plans for the day, they got swept into oblivion after I spoke to Giles.

  ‘So come on, what has that got to do with my wedding food?’ asks Henri impatiently. ‘Are the college going to do my food?’

  ‘No,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘I spoke to the course tutor to see whether they could cater your wedding, but they can’t do it. Something to do with insurance; they’re only covered to prepare food on the college ca
mpus, so unless you want to have your wedding there, they couldn’t do it.’

  ‘Please tell me that this story has a happy ending, or else I’m going to force your husband to cook us fish pie on the day,’ says Henri, pointing her fork menacingly at Mark.

  ‘The tutor told me that although the college couldn’t do it, he could. Apparently he runs a small catering company on the side: he’s the chef and he often uses a couple of the students as his sous-chefs. It just means that the costs are slightly lower than they would be through a mainstream catering company. He also gets a lot of his students to do the silver service as well.’

  ‘Isn’t that like child labour?’ asks Mark, laughing.

  ‘I think he called it CV building. And at least he’s paying them and not calling it an internship,’ I say.

  Mark nods. Of course he does, he knows his wife is always right.

  ‘OK, do you think they’d be up to the job? I mean, students …’ says Henri.

  ‘I thought you might be a little sceptical.’

  Actually, I thought Henri would be a lot sceptical, and that she would need much more convincing. But she’s making fewer wrinkle noses than I thought she would.

  ‘So, we could go and try the food there. We could either go for lunch, or they do dinner on Tuesdays or Thursdays. Then we could have a proper chat with Brett the tutor and you can see what you think.’

  ‘Ooh, great. Tomorrow, then? Can we do tomorrow?’

  ‘Um, I’d love to but we’ve got Lou and Russell, our friends, coming over for dinner. How about next week?’

  ‘Do you think we can wait until then? I mean, it isn’t long until the big day.’

  ‘No, I guess it isn’t.’

  ‘Maybe Lou and Russell would want to come along too, it could be fun,’ says Mark.

  Hang on a minute, does Mark think he’s invited? I’d only intended it to be Henri and me.

  ‘Um, I thought it would just be me and Henri, you know, as it would be boring talking about wedding stuff and sorting out details with the caterer.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ says Henri, waving her fork around in a much less threatening way. ‘It would be so much better if everyone came along. We need all the guinea pigs we can get! And I’m sure your friends won’t mind.’

  ‘But what about Lou and Russell getting a babysitter? I told them they could bring Harry to sleep upstairs.’

  ‘Pen, you know as well as I do that Lou’s mother always babysits at the drop of a hat.’

  I shoot Mark an evil look, which he misses as he’s started to clear away the plates. He obviously doesn’t know that I’m trying to see as little of Henri and Nick together in order to preserve my nerves. But there’s a bigger problem. Nick appeared in my very public apology video. I made Mark a video where I discussed my gambling habit and then other people in my gambling group, including Nick, told their gambling stories in order to help him understand what I had been going through. I just don’t want Mark to recognise Nick and say something publicly. Ideally, I didn’t want Mark and Nick to meet at all, only now Henri and Mark have become new BFFs. This is just perfect.

  ‘Great, so that’s your friends sorted. Do we need to phone and book ahead?’

  ‘I think so.’ Perhaps I could pretend I’ve phoned and they’re fully booked, but Henri jumps in.

  ‘Right, well I’ll phone first thing when I get into work tomorrow and reserve us a table. What time shall we say, seven p.m., or do you think a little later might be better? You know, for your friends with the baby. They might want to put him to bed first, mightn’t they?’

  Get Henri thinking about the baby’s routine.

  ‘Um, I think maybe I should give Lou a call to check that her mum can babysit and—’

  ‘I’m sure with Lou and Russell’s rocking social life with the baby that, even if they couldn’t get a babysitter, they wouldn’t mind rescheduling until Friday night,’ says Mark.

  ‘Great, so I’ll say a table for four possibly six then, at eight p.m. Oh, I can’t wait.’

  I look between Henri and Mark and I wonder what has gone on without me. I feel a bit uneasy that we’ve changed Lou and Russell’s social plans without them being consulted. I know Mark is right and that, since baby Harry arrived, they haven’t really been out much in the evenings. But I feel a bit annoyed that Mark and Henri think they can rearrange their evening without a second thought.

  ‘I suppose I’ll phone Lou then,’ I say sulkily. I’m too tired to assert any control over this situation. Anyone would think Henri was the wedding planner, not me. In fact, if she only turned her bossiness and hypnotic control into wedding planning, she’d have this whole thing whipped into shape in no time. It’s moments like this that I find it strange that she’s using me at all.

  ‘Right then, now all that is sorted, I’d best get home to Nick. Mark, I’d love for you to meet him, you’ll get on like a house on fire. I just know that you’ll have loads in common.’

  More than you can ever imagine, I think to myself.

  ‘Can’t wait,’ says Mark.

  Blimey, Henri is a hypnotist. I often have to drag Mark out to meet new people. He was practically kicking and screaming the time we went to Lou’s house to meet the new friends they’d met at NCT classes. He’d huffed around the house all weekend and then, when he got there, he’d had a really great time. All the guys did was talk about sports, apparently. It was me that should have been dreading it. All that talk of nipple shields and stitches, it was enough to put me off having babies. In fact, maybe that’s why I haven’t become pregnant; maybe my uterus was scarred for life.

  ‘I’m sorry again, Henri, for not being here when you arrived. I promise I’ll be on time tomorrow night.’

  ‘Don’t worry at all. And I’ll look forward to tomorrow. I’ll just have to find something to wear. When you say fancy, just how fancy are we talking? A little black dress or is it more smart jeans and a nice top?’

  I walk Henri out of the kitchen and down the hall to the front door, not really listening to her prattle on. For all I know, she is talking about pigeon racing I’m that tired. I’m almost surprised I’m not seeing two of her.

  ‘I’m glad we’ve got that sorted then. See you tomorrow.’

  I tune into the end of the conversation as Henri air kisses me goodbye and I hope that means that we’ve sorted out her wardrobe dilemma.

  ‘So, she seems nice,’ says Mark as I walk back into the kitchen. I slump down again on a chair and watch Mark stack the dishwasher. I’d usually do it when he’s cooked, but look how neatly he’s stacking it, and he’s doing all the pre-washing of the plates so they won’t get crusty bits. I can’t possibly interrupt that.

  ‘Yeah, the more I’ve got to know her, the sweeter she seems.’

  ‘She’s not at all what I pictured, I somehow imagined her to be highly strung.’

  I almost say give her time, but instead I just murmur a yes.

  ‘I hope this Nick guy’s all right. At least Russell will be there too.’

  Nick. My stomach is starting to churn a little uneasily. It could be something to do with the fact that I’ve eaten three days’-worth of food in the space of about six hours, but I think it’s more likely to be because I’m feeling uncomfortable about lying to Mark. I mean, surely he’ll recognise him instantly and make the connection. Deep down, I know I should care more about trust in my relationship with my husband but, for some reason, I can’t seem to bring myself to tell him. Is it better that I tell him the truth now so that he can preserve the illusion to Henri that we don’t know the secret?

  ‘He’s a really nice guy,’ I say, meaning it. After all, he was there for me last year when I needed him.

  I open my mouth to tell him, but then I close it again. I could be worrying about nothing, after all, I have to remind Mark constantly who’s who when it comes to my friends’ boyfriends. Is Richie the guy with the pit bull? No, that’s Robert, I’ll reply, Richie is the guy with the vegetable patch. And I’ve met him? Ma
rk will ask, despite the fact we’ll have gone to their house for dinner the month before.

  Yes, I’m worrying over nothing. There’s no way that Mark will remember Nick from the video he saw once, under duress, on the day of our wedding. I’m sure he had much bigger things to concentrate on than Nick.

  I hope Lou and Russell can come. It would certainly take a lot of the heat out of the situation.

  ‘So, how come you were late home from work? Still working on that graduate scheme?’

  ‘I wish,’ I say like an involuntary spasm. ‘An engineer tipped us off that one of his colleagues has been running a business during office hours and Giles wants me to handle the investigation.’

  ‘That’s great,’ says Mark.

  I’m trying not to laugh at the fact that he’s turned round from the washing up and he’s wearing my Marigolds.

  ‘Yeah, it is. From what I can tell, it seems that this woman, Indy, has been running an Italian cheese importation business.’ I can’t believe that after everything I’ve eaten today, talking about it is making me crave cheese. ‘It’s just really tricky trying to prove that she’s been working on it whilst she’s in the office. And we have to do it in secret because if she gets an inkling about what we’re up to then she’ll probably cover her tracks.’

  ‘Sounds very cloak and dagger.’

  ‘I know, it is. Giles thinks, from what the engineer has told us, that it’s ground for instant dismissal, so we’ve got to make sure that we have everything checked and in place before we confront her.’

  ‘Giles doesn’t take any prisoners, does he?’

  ‘No,’ I say, feeling slightly sick that he would take a dim view on my wedding planning too if he found out. But it’s not like I’m in Indy’s league. I mean, I only have one client and I’m not in contact with her very often when I’m at work.

  ‘When’s the big confrontation going to happen then?’

  ‘Probably later in the week, or early next week. Giles wants to strike while the iron is hot.’

  ‘Hopefully this will score you some brownie points for the promotion.’