“Thank you,” Stanley said, smiling at her. “We’re having another FOCL meeting tonight; it’s not too late to join us, you know?”
Oh god. “I’m afraid I have plans tonight.”
“I know you get anxious in group situations, but you don’t have to say anything. We would really value your input.”
“I’m sorry, Stanley, I’m busy.”
He let out a sigh. “Very well, my dear.”
June returned to the desk. She hated lying to Stanley when he’d always been kind to her, but if he knew she’d been banned, then there was a risk he’d tell Mrs.B, and then word might get back to the council that June had talked, and then she’d be—
“June!”
She winced as her boss’s voice bellowed across the library. Had Marjorie heard her talking to Stanley about FOCL? “Yes, Marjorie?”
“I need to talk to you.”
June headed to the office, her mouth dry. But when she walked in, she found Marjorie sitting behind her desk with an odd expression on her face.
“Hello, June. Would you please sit down?”
In her ten years working at the library, June had never known Marjorie to use such a gentle voice with her. Something must be wrong.
“Please,” Marjorie said again, and she gave another rictus smile.
June sat down, feeling even more nervous.
“I’ve called you in here because I need your assistance on a... personal matter,” Marjorie said. “One on which I’d appreciate your utmost discretion. It concerns Gayle.”
June stifled a groan; not another job for the wedding. Just yesterday, Marjorie had made June give up her lunch break to research local companies who could provide a dozen live doves to be released during the vows.
“What do you need me to do?” June asked through gritted teeth.
“As you are aware, Gayle’s hen do is in two weeks’ time. And as you’re also aware, the planned stripper has caused my stomach ulcer to return.”
“Would you like me to pop out and get you some more antacids?”
“No.” Marjorie paused. “I want you to go to Gayle’s hen do and stop the stripper.”
June gave a snort of surprise. “What?”
“Hear me out. You and Gayle used to be close friends—”
“Only at primary school.”
“Well, last night she was telling me on the phone that several of her friends have dropped out of the hen do, and now she doesn’t have enough guests for the planned activities.”
“Yes, but—”
“So, I told Gayle that I know you’d love to go, and she’s agreed that you can make up the numbers.”
June looked at her boss in disbelief. “Marjorie, Gayle and I haven’t been friends since we were eleven, and I’ve not seen her for years. Why would I go to her hen do?”
“Come on, you and I both know you don’t have a social life. This would be fun for you.”
“No, it wouldn’t—” June started, but Marjorie held up a hand to silence her. All pretense of niceness had disappeared.
“June, as your boss, I’m telling you that you have to go to the hen do. I can’t risk some sleazy stripper performing and word getting out to the lord lieutenancy committee, ruining Brian’s and my reputation. You need to stop it from happening.”
