Jennifer Joyce - The Accidental Life Swap

‘I’m throwing a housewarming party, you see, to showcase my beautiful new home.’ Vanessa reaches for her handbag, rifling inside before pulling out a cream card embossed with sparkling bronze writing. She slides it towards me, jabbing a finger on the date printed on the front. ‘That’s in one month’s time, when Nicole promised me the house would be ready.’

How inconvenient . I’m sure Nicole is as furious with her broken promise as Vanessa is.

I want to say this out loud, my tone so thick with sarcasm the words would almost get wedged in my mouth. But I don’t. I silently seethe while Vanessa spits venom about her ruined party plans.

‘And the invitations have already gone out to everybody I know!’ Vanessa snatches the invite back and shoves it into her handbag. My invitation must have been lost in the post, I suppose.

‘The thing is, I don’t have time to find another project manager to get the job finished by my tight deadline.’ Vanessa pushes herself out of her seat and strides towards the window. ‘Especially if I have to go on a waiting list.’ Vanessa shakes her head and the wayward strand of hair has a wobble. I fear she’s going to catch its reflection in the windowpane and demand to know why I haven’t warned her that she looks like she’s been on the receiving end of an electric shock.

‘You said I could help?’ I only give her the reminder so she’ll turn away from the window, but I soon wish I’d kept quiet when the crocodile smile makes a return.

‘Yes, I did, didn’t I?’ Vanessa strides away from the window and perches on the edge of her desk, looking down at me.

‘Do you want me to get in touch with everyone from your guest list and rearrange the party for a later date?’

The answer to the question is clearly a big fat no as Vanessa’s mouth gapes open in outrage. She places a hand on her chest as she gives a humourless laugh. ‘I am an events manager , Becky. I can’t postpone my party – what kind of message is that sending out? If I can’t organise my own party, what hope is there for paying clients?’

‘These are extenuating circumstances. I’m sure if you explain the situation with the accident and …’ My words tail off as Vanessa leaps from the desk and marches back towards the window. She isn’t listening to me anyway.

‘Postponing isn’t an option. The party must go ahead, and it must be spectacular .’

‘You want me to plan your party?’ I’m almost breathless. Vanessa wants me to plan her party ! This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me! Of all the event planners in this building, Vanessa has picked me to organise her housewarming celebration. This is it. My big chance to prove to Vanessa that I can be a creative asset to this company. No wonder Sonia was looking ticked off as she left the office. She must want to puke with envy.

‘No, sweetheart.’ Vanessa is giving me an odd look, as though I’ve just sprouted an extra head before her eyes, and she’s speaking to me rather slowly. ‘I want you to project manage the final stages of the house renovation.’

I watch Vanessa carefully, the corners of my mouth twitching, eager to rise into a smile as soon as Vanessa bursts into the laughter I know she’s holding deep inside. Because I know she’s kidding. I’m a PA. I have a degree in events management. And I know squat about restoring houses, other than the occasional viewing of Homes Under The Hammer when I’m too hungover to reach for the remote. Let me tell you, I am no Lucy Alexander. I cannot see potential in knackered old buildings. I don’t care about original period pieces and I’m as likely to gush over Lee’s sweat-dampened socks left strewn across the bathroom floor as I am a ceiling rose.

Vanessa’s good, I’ll give her that. Her poker face is amazing as she faces me with an unwavering facade, her features as still as a mask cast in plaster.

‘You’ll need to get in touch with the head builder – Victor, I think his name is. Or maybe Vance?’ Vanessa bites her lip, and I suspect this is the moment she is going to roar with laughter. She’s trying so hard to keep the amusement in, but it has to burst out at some point. Right? ‘I haven’t got round to filling him in about Nicole, so you’ll need to update him on the situation.’ She twists her wrist to glance at her watch. ‘I really must dash off, I’m afraid. I’m so late for this meeting. Victor’s details are in my contacts and I’ll arrange to have Nicole’s paperwork couriered over to you ASAP. You’ll just have to wing it until it arrives, I’m afraid, but at least the builders won’t slack off if you’re around to keep them in check.’

She’s striding towards the door without a hint of delight at her little joke. I watch her reach for the handle, fully prepared for her to spin around and laugh at me.

Except she doesn’t. She strides straight through the door without a backwards glance. When she fails to poke her head back round the door to perform her gotcha! moment, panic starts to bubble inside. She isn’t serious about me taking over the role of project manager, is she?

I laugh to myself, but I don’t sound particularly joyful. I sound afraid and slightly manic.

‘Vanessa! Wait!’ Leaping from my seat, I tear off across the office, almost slipping on the polished floor in my stupid peep-toe boots. Yanking at the door handle, I’m relieved to see the back of Vanessa’s head, the strands of hair still sticking up, as she marches towards the meeting room. ‘Vanessa!’ I yelp as my foot slips again, but I keep going, grasping hold of a startled-looking Vanessa as I reach her. ‘I can’t do this. I’m not a project manager. I have no clue what to do.’ I spread my arms out wide. ‘No clue at all.’

Vanessa’s foot starts to tap as she observes me, one eyebrow quirked unnaturally high on her forehead. I lower my arms slowly as she continues to scrutinise me, resting them by my side as Vanessa’s other eyebrow rises to join the first in its piqued position.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Vanessa’s voice is a low growl and I suddenly realise I’m desperate for a wee.

‘I, um … the thing is, Vanessa …’ I cross my legs as a sharp pain crosses my belly. ‘While I’m absolutely flattered that you think I’m capable of overseeing the refurbishment of your new house, I don’t think I’m up to the job.’

Vanessa’s head tilts to one side and she rests a hand on her hip. ‘You don’t think you’re up to the job?’

I give a rapid shake of my head as I concentrate really hard on not wetting myself outside the meeting room.

‘You’re not up to the job an untrained monkey with a clipboard could do?’

I’m not sure what to say to that. If I answer no, I’m admitting that I’m less capable than an untrained monkey. But if I answer yes, that I am up to the job after all, then I’m landing myself with a new, albeit temporary, job description for the next few weeks.

‘Well?’ Vanessa’s foot is tapping again. I need to answer quickly, before she loses her temper for the second time this morning.

‘I guess I’m a fast learner?’ I wish my voice hadn’t come out sounding quite so weak, that it had been a strong statement of my abilities rather than a meek question.

‘Good.’ Vanessa gives a curt nod and I train my eyes on her mouth so I neither have to look into her searing eyes or watch the stray hairs wobble. ‘Because I wouldn’t want to have to find both a new project manager and a PA at such short notice.’ If I could bear to meet her gaze, I’m sure Vanessa would be piercing me with a warning look: refuse to take on this role at your peril.