The Surprise Party
WRITTEN BY CAMILLA KELLY
No one knew who planned it, but it turned out just perfect!
Margaret’s 60th I read in the calendar when I turned to the new month ahead, and cursed.
It was only a week away and I’d forgotten all about it.
However, this calendar was shared by the whole office – a record of all our leave and birthdays and whose turn it was to buy the biscuits – surely someone else had taken notice?
I glanced around, checking that Margaret was out of the room before I said in a loud whisper, “Did anyone remember it’s Margaret’s sixtieth next week?”
Shelly peered around the forest of potted plants on her desk and swore. “Really? Is there anything planned?”
“I don’t know, but we really should do something.” Especially since she’d missed out last year when her birthday clashed with Jay and Holly’s anniversary party and no one remembered.
Alan, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his beard with his pen, agreed.
Poor Margaret really does deserve better; she’s the one who always organises everyone else’s celebrations.
“What shall we do?” I asked, hoping someone would miraculously offer to solve the problem.
“Do about what?” Gaia asked, returning from her coffee break with a half-eaten chocolate bar in one hand and a cup of something more sugar than coffee in the other. Thank goodness for her young metabolism, I thought enviously.
“Margaret’s birthday next week.”
Gaia slipped neatly behind her desk.
“I thought it had been organised.”
Everyone sighed in relief.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. But someone said it was happening at the pub next Friday.”
“Which pub?”
“Um…”
“The Dew Drop?” That was the usual place for work dos. They did lovely food.
“Yes, I think that was it.”
“Gaia, would you mind phoning to make sure?”
Gaia nodded and did an internet search for the pub’s phone number.
“We could ask Betty if she’s making a cake,” Alan suggested.
“Good idea!”
Betty in HR always made the birthday cakes – she was a whizz.
“Of course!” she said when I dialled her number. “I’ve got the perfect cake for Margaret: a lemon curd. She mentioned before that it was her favourite.”
I felt much better when I hung up. It would have been terrible if Margaret had missed out again.
“They’re having an IT failure on their booking system at the Dew Drop,” Gaia said moments later, “but when they realised it was for Margaret, they said they’d put up a few decorations in the function room.”
“That’s good of them,” Alan said.
“Well, they’ve dealt with her a lot over the years.”
“That just leaves a gift,” Shelly said. “Any ideas?”
We all fell silent from lack of inspiration.
“Maybe someone else has already organised it?” Shelly said hopefully.
“Oh!” I suddenly exclaimed. “That explains the email I had confirming an order for a deluxe interchangeable knitting needle set from the craft store – payment on delivery on Friday morning.”
“That must be for Margaret – she’s the only knitter here. It’s perfect for her.”
“Has everyone chipped in already? No one’s asked me,” Gaia said.
“Me either. Let’s have a whip round,” Alan said, reaching for his wallet. “Then I’ll nip about and see if anyone else has been left out.”
“Ask them to sign a card while you’re at it,” Shelly said. “There’s one in the stationary cupboard.”
“Phew,” I said. “That was easy!”
I felt I’d had a lucky escape. “I’m glad someone remembered her this year.”
There was a huge turnout for the party on Friday. Everyone was pleased Margaret would finally be getting the attention she deserved.
“Lovely looking cake, Betty,” I said, gesturing to the three-tier confection glistening with pink icing.
“It was a bit of a challenge to do it at such short notice after you called, but I think it turned out well,” she said modestly.
I thought it was odd she’d had to be reminded by my call, but didn’t want to say so.
“So who do we thank for this whole do?” I said to the group.
Alan shrugged. Shelly glanced at Gaia, who paused after setting down the wrapped gift on the table and frowned.
I’m trying to remember where I heard the rumour in the first place…
No matter, I was sure we’d find out eventually. In the meantime, Alan waved a hand and called that he could see Margaret arriving outside.
“Happy birthday!” we all cheered as she came in the door.
Margaret stood on the threshold, pink-cheeked and beaming as she took it all in.
“Oh, isn’t this wonderful! Thank you all so much.”
She took off her coat, revealing a sparkly red top underneath with a “Birthday Girl” badge pinned to it.
“It’s almost exactly what I would have planned for myself.”
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Allison Hay
I joined the "My Weekly" team thirteen years ago and, more recently, "The People's Friend". I love the variety of topics we cover both online and in the magazines. I manage the digital content for the brands, sharing features and information on the website, social media and in our digital newsletters.
