As you can imagine I could feel the room slowly spin around me. I held on to a tall potted plant for stability.

Dominic asked us if we knew why we had been called into his office. And then waited for a few moments. He asked if anyone had read that morning’s papers. Some people nodded yes. I tried to squeeze into a small gap behind the potted plant.

Again he looked around. Then he looked straight at me.

I couldn’t handle the pressure anymore. There was no point in prolonging this torture and humiliation. I took a deep breath, held on to the plant firmly and spoke.

I said, looking at no one in particular, that human beings made mistakes. That sometimes they got carried away by the moment. And that while things may look terrible at that moment, they always seem less catastrophic in hindsight. I also reminded him, very passionately I think, that one of the fundamental principles of employee engagement stated in the new Lederman Employee Guidebook is, ‘Focus on the problem. Not the individual.’

Dominic looked taken aback.

And then he said he was surprised that I already knew about the incident involving the Lederman employee, the travel agency wax statue and the automatic check-out machine at the Marks and Spencer supermarket. He said he was under the impression that only a few people within the Lederman top management were aware of what had happened.

He asked me how I knew.

For a moment my brain went blank. Then I unleashed an old trick of mine that you know very well Diary.

I told him that I was not at liberty to reveal that information. And that it was confidential.

He looked surprised and confused.

And then he told the assembled staff that even though Robin Varghese, i.e. I, was already aware of the secret information, it was his duty to explain things anyway.

He went on to describe the wax statue incident in reasonably accurate detail but without referring to who the employee concerned, i.e. I, was.

He said that most people in the office had already laughed at the story during the pub-crawl without knowing that the individual in question was a Lederman consultant or contractor.

Thank god the plant in Dominic’s room was planted so strongly. I would have definitely fallen over otherwise.

Turns out that while I was engaged in mortal combat with the unmanned check-out machine at Marks and Spencer, I had dropped one of my Lederman visiting cards.

This was one of those blank name-less designation-less cards that Lederman gives all its medium-and long-term consultants and contractors. It has no details except the Lederman office address and a common phone number. You are supposed to fill in the rest with pen.