After giving herself that moment, she grabbed her suitcase and wheeled it through the double doors—heavier than they looked—and into the main hall. It was quiet inside, almost eerie. There was a fireplace on the right, though no fire currently burned there, and there were a few candlestick holders dotted around, half-burnt-down candles dripping wax down their sides. There seemed to be an abundance of wooden furnishings, and the big rug made it feel like she was stepping back in time—it was the type of thing that might have been fashionable when Josie was a child. Still, she supposed that was all part of the charm.
There was a smartly dressed man holding a clipboard and smiling politely in front of a blue table—was blue granite a thing?—with the biggest bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen on top of it. “Hello, miss,” he said, his accent softer than the taxi driver’s, his tidy appearance somehow giving the impression that he was too modern for a place like this. “Are you here for the wedding? Can I take your name?”
“Josie Morgan,” she answered, still glancing around the room, trying to take in every little detail.
Clipboard Man nodded. “You’re in Buttercup.”
“Buttercup?” Josie repeated with a slight frown.
“The name of your room, miss.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
He came forward and took her suitcase for her. “Shall I show you the way?” At her nod, he wheeled her suitcase ahead of her, leading her to the left, past a circular wooden table and four ornate wooden chairs, and up an epic staircase, wide enough to fit at least four people side by side. They passed a chair and table at the corner of the staircase, in case you wanted to have a quick sit-down, apparently. Josie ran her hand along the banister, feeling little tingles run up her arm. People actually used to live here. She couldn’t help grinning at Clipboard Man, who smiled back, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
As they neared the top of the stairs, there was the sound of voices, seeming to echo softly around the whole interior. “OK, well look, I don’t need a microphone, I think that’s too formal for this evening, but please make sure that—Josie!” Laura turned as Josie reached the top of the stairs. She had one hand in her hair, which looked both blonder and messier than Josie had ever seen it, and was standing with an older woman that Josie thought she recognized from a barbecue a while ago—Laura’s mother—and two almost identical petite women, both also holding clipboards. Laura pulled her hand out of her hair and broke into a big smile as she came toward Josie. “You’re here!” She turned to Clipboard Man. “Can you just take her bags up for her and put them in the room, leave the key in the door?”
Clipboard Man nodded. “Of course,” he said smoothly. He turned to Josie. “Will you be able to find your room?”
“Where’s she staying?” Laura asked.
“Buttercup, I think,” Josie said.
Laura waved her hand in the air. “No problem, I know where that is.” Josie smiled wryly. Of course she did. No doubt Laura had studied and memorized the floor plan weeks before. Laura shifted back to the other three women. “This is my mum, Jose,” she said, proving Josie correct as she indicated the older, classy-looking woman. She smiled politely at Josie, like she recognized her but couldn’t quite place her. “And this is Tiffany and Abigail,” she said, gesturing at the clipboard women. Why did everyone need a clipboard? Josie wondered. Was it Laura instigating that, or was it something they just did here?
“I’ve no idea where John is,” Laura continued. “He’s off with some of his Scottish relatives somewhere, I swear there are more of them than I ever knew about, and every time he speaks to them he gets more and more Scottish. I swear I can’t even understand half of what he’s saying at the moment, so God knows how the speech will go.” She was definitely talking faster and slightly more erratically than usual. “Anyway.” She gestured again toward the clipboards. “We were just finalizing the seating plan for this evening. I’ve put you on a table with Jess and Tom from work and Erin, one of John’s friends—is that OK? He’s sure you’ll like her, though he only thought to tell me this today, of course, and she still hasn’t confirmed if she’s actually bringing her plus one with her, but she’s one of John’s best friends, so.”
If Josie kept smiling like this all weekend, she swore she’d tear her facial muscles. “Sounds great.” Even though she hadn’t actually spoken to anyone but Laura from Peacock’s since she’d left. A good thing, then, that it wasn’t just the two of them and Josie—it meant that work couldn’t be the only topic of conversation for the whole evening. And Jess and Tom, from the sounds of things, were minus plus ones tonight too. The thought of that made her relax slightly—maybe it would be genuinely nice to catch up with them, as long as they didn’t linger too long on what she was doing now.