Always, in December(64)
With that in mind, she put her suitcase to one side and picked up her camera. It was the perfect chance to capture the castle—there were two cars parked outside, but they were out of the way and easily hidden. Imposing, that was the right word for it. She supposed that was the point of it, originally. And the landscape was just glorious—blue skies, the sun causing reflections to dance in a few of the windows at the top of the turrets—though she imagined this was the type of place to look just as good with a moody, stormy sky in the backdrop. Still, she was glad of the weather, for Laura’s sake. It was one of Josie’s favorite times of year, September. You weren’t expecting glorious weather, so when you got the tail end of summer it was even better.
After taking a few photos on her camera, Josie snapped one on her phone, then sent a WhatsApp to Bia.
The castle!
She got a line of heart emojis back, then: I’m SO excited. I’ll see you tomorrow!!
Josie smiled as she slipped her phone back in her coat pocket. Thank God Bia had agreed to step in as her plus one after Josie’d had to tell Laura that Oliver wouldn’t be coming after all—she didn’t think she could manage the whole weekend alone, pretending that she had absolutely no problem with being single in the face of her friend’s marital bliss.
For a good minute, Josie made herself stand there, trying hard to be in the moment. She had to admit, something about the atmosphere here, the beauty of it, made her feel a little more peaceful than she thought she’d be. But not just here—she’d felt the same in Edinburgh. Almost the moment she’d stepped off the train, she’d decided she loved the city and was instantly sad she only got one night there. She’d never been to Scotland before—her grandparents had taken her to Wales a few times on holiday, but never Scotland—and now she was struggling to think why she’d never bothered to visit of her own accord.
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?