Still, for better or for worse, it was show-round day, and there were still some things Carrie could do to get ready for the invasion.
Showered, made-up and dressed in her best grey suit and lilac shirt, Carrie descended the stairs to find Izzie and Jacob poring over something at the reception desk. Her heart clenched. “Everything okay?” Because really, what else could go wrong?
Jacob looked up with a wide smile. “Fine. Just perusing the new menus. They look fab.”
“New menus?” Carrie asked, stepping closer. Yes, she and Jacob had discussed the actual dishes they had planned for the wedding brochure so she could talk to Ruth and Selena about them, but they didn’t have any real menus.
Except the one Izzie held up and waved. Carrie took it from her.
“This looks really great,” she said, aware of the surprise in her voice. The heavy, creamy card had swirling dark green borders, with thick, clear print detailing the dishes in much better words than the ones Jacob and Carrie had come up with. “They’ll go perfectly in the new brochures.” When they got around to printing them. “Where did they come from?”
Izzie shrugged, eyes wide and blank. “They were on the desk when I came in this morning.”
“Is there a packing slip?” Carrie reached over to rifle through the box. Nothing. Not even a label. “Well, someone must have ordered them.”
“It was probably Nate,” Izzie said, after sharing a look with Jacob that, try as she might, Carrie couldn’t quite translate. “You should ask him.”
“I will,” Carrie said, adding a few of the menus to her clipboard. “Once I manage to find him.”
“He’s sorting the flowers in the dining room, I think,” Jacob told her. “And I need to get back to the kitchen.” He disappeared through the double doors to the dining room, and Carrie considered following.
But Ruth and company could arrive at any moment. With a sigh, she pulled out The List again and headed for the drawing room.
And promptly paused in the doorway. In the centre of the room stood the low coffee table from the other sitting room, surrounded by five of the more upright chairs and a tray with coffee cups and saucers, sugar and spoons. A note propped against one of the cups told her that Jacob would keep the coffee machine running all morning and bring out a fresh pot, with cream, when her guests arrived.
God bless Jacob, she thought, and crossed set up meeting area off her list, wondering how he’d known it was one of the many things she just hadn’t been able to get around to before she’d fallen into bed in the early hours of the morning.
There were fresh flowers on the window sills, too, she realised, presumably courtesy of Nate and Moira. Poor Nate would have no flowers left in his garden by the end of the visit.
Carrie consulted The List again, ignoring the items she could do nothing about—Fix terrace! New windows, etc.—and focusing instead on the things that might be achievable before everyone arrived.
She’d have liked time to make the bridal suite more impressive, but had settled for sorting out the main reception and ceremony areas. There was nothing to be done for the carpet in the dining room except to reassure her guests it would be replaced before the big day, but the tables had all been cleaned, polished, then, when even that didn’t make a difference, covered in crisp white linen as they would be for the wedding breakfast.
Nate had polished the Welsh dresser without her even asking, and apparently Jacob had been running all the china through the dishwasher to make sure it sparkled. She couldn’t afford to waste money on centrepieces, but Nate and Moira were doing what they could with what they had in the garden. Carrie hadn’t even asked what they planned to put the flowers in. Nate had just pushed her out of the doorway the previous evening and told her not to worry about it.
The chairs, too, were covered in some dusty old chair covers she’d found in one of the back rooms, apparently left over from another event. The bright lilac colour wasn’t anywhere near the same colour as Ruth’s beloved roses, but she’d splashed out on some thick white ribbon to tie them on, which toned it down a bit.
Then suddenly there was the sound of wheels on gravel, and it was too late to do anything else anyway.
“Oh, Carrie! It’s so good to see you!” Ruth threw herself into Carrie’s arms as soon as she stepped into the lobby, her blonde bob flying across her face. Over her shoulder, Carrie could see Selena eyeing the tapestry she’d replaced over the desk as she stripped off her gloves and coat and left them on the reception desk, since Izzie had disappeared again. “Tell me this place has a bar,” Ruth whispered, hugging her cousin. “The drive up was a nightmare.”
“Fully stocked,” Carrie whispered back. “Where’s Graeme?”
Ruth’s face was stormy. “Last-minute meeting he couldn’t get out of. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Carrie lied. Would Selena book without Graeme having seen the inn? “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get this tour over with, and your mum and dad packed off back to Cheshire, then it’s you, me and a bottle of wine.” She pulled back and smiled brightly at Ruth’s mother.
“Aunt Selena, it’s so lovely to see you again. Is Uncle Patrick not with you?” Carrie asked.
“Oh, he’ll be here in a moment.” Selena air kissed somewhere in the vicinity of Carrie’s cheek. “He’s just giving Anna an external tour of the property, apparently.”
“Anna?” Something inside Carrie froze at the sound of the name.
“Anna Yardley. Old family friend. She runs a…wait, didn’t you work for her once?” Selena’s eyes narrowed as she tried to remember.
“Only for about five years, Mum,” Ruth said. Then she whispered in Carrie’s ear, “I’m really, really sorry. They’re hijacking my wedding.”
“Anyway, Patrick thought she’d be able to give us an insider report on this place,” Selena said, obviously unaware at the way Carrie’s skin crawled at the very idea of her ex-boss seeing the Avalon in its current condition.
The heavy front door opened again and Uncle Patrick walked in, still talking to the woman behind him. “The place has potential, you have to agree, Annie.”
No one else in the world would ever get away with calling Anna Yardley ‘Annie’, Carrie thought as she stepped forward to greet them.
“Uncle Patrick. Anna. How lovely to see you both.” More air kissing from Anna, although with a distinctly chilly feel. Uncle Patrick, meanwhile, wrapped her up in a rather sweaty bear hug.
“Little Carrie. Trying to make a go of my inheritance, eh?”
“Gran left the Avalon to Carrie, Dad,” Ruth pointed out. “I think that makes it her inheritance.”
Uncle Patrick waved a hand dismissively. “We’re all family here. And the Avalon belongs to the family. I was just telling Annie the very same thing.”
“And I’m looking forward to seeing the venue that was important enough to tempt you away from Wedding Wishes, Carrie,” Anna said, in a way that made it very clear that, actually, she wasn’t all that interested at all. So why the hell was she here?
Carrie motioned towards the open door beside her. “Why don’t you all come through to the front drawing room?” Hopefully Jacob had heard the commotion and coffee was on its way. “We can talk about your plans and ideas for the wedding.”
“If there is