But he was afraid to trust her, so he stood at the front door, intercepting people as they arrived, and shepherding them through check-in.
Here came Rionna and Kaz.
‘This is a bit of a shit-show,’ he muttered. ‘I’m very sorry. I’m deeply, truly sorry.’
Rionna and Kaz laughed it off. ‘So long as Jessie has a good time, that’s all that matters.’
Jessie’s friend Mary-Laine and her husband Martin were similarly relaxed.
Annette and Nigel, though … Annette was Jessie’s friend and she was okay. But her husband Nigel was as arsy as they come. Too aggressive, always had to win and delighted with any chance to make life unpleasant for others.
Here came a gang of people Johnny didn’t recognize. These must be the other guests, he realized. Six thirty-somethings, a smiley, rowdy group of friends. Johnny scanned them, looking for the alpha, the person he could join forces with, to keep this thing on track – but they were all betas. So he was completely on his own, carrying this weekend entirely by himself. He’d only been trying to save money. He’d been ultimately thinking of everyone’s good. But who was going to cut him any slack?
No one, that was who.
His was a heavy and a lonely burden.
The only ones left to arrive were Ed and Cara and they’d be happy with anything. So when Micah whizzed past and told him to come to the drawing room, he decided it was safe to stand down.
Her props were a pair of vintage sunglasses, an onyx cigarette holder, a feather boa and satin elbow gloves, all of decent quality.
‘Ferdia Kinsella?’ Micah called. ‘Quentin Ropane-Redford. Racing-car driver and eligible bachelor.’ Ferdia was given a pair of driving gloves, a fake Cartier cigarette lighter, an elaborate-looking watch and goggle-style sunglasses. ‘For the weekend, become your alter ego.’ Micah winked at him. ‘And expect the unexpected …’
Mary-Laine’s husband, Martin – or MP Timothy Narracott-Blatt – was accessorized with a silver-topped cane, a monocle and a top-hat.
‘Liam Casey? You’re Vicar Daventry.’
Liam received a white dog-collar, a set of buck-teeth and a Bible. ‘Feck’s sake.’ He pawed through his haul. ‘Everyone else is playboys and good stuff and I’m a crappy vicar.’
‘Hot vicar,’ Nell said.
‘Oh, yeah?’ He shoved in his false teeth and lunged at her. ‘Still think so?’
She waved him away. ‘I’m going to the room to get changed.’
Johnny intercepted her, with the aspect of chief mourner at a funeral. ‘Nell, I apologize. This is a bit of a cluster-fuck.’
‘No way,’ she said. ‘It just isn’t very, you know, Johnny-and-Jessie. But it’s going to be the best fun. The props are class. They got them from a theatre group. It’s all cool.’
‘You’re so nice.’
For a scary moment, it looked like he might kiss her.
‘When should we give Jessie her gift?’ she asked. ‘We got her a powder compact. Vintage. Silver and enamel. Will it be okay?’
‘Aaah … We’ll play all that by ear. I’m sure she’ll be happy with it.’
He clearly hadn’t a clue and she felt sorry for him. Whatever, it would have to be okay. She’d wasted days on eBay searching for something adequately ‘Jessie’.
Micah called, ‘Johnny Casey! Dr Basil Theobald-Montague, once-eminent heart surgeon.’
‘I’m up,’ he said, and skedaddled.
Nell saw that Cara and Ed had finally arrived. They looked upset. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
Cara looked around furtively, until she saw that Johnny was too far away to hear. ‘Ed and I, our room is a yurt.’
Ferdia had also come to say hello. ‘A yurt? Cool!’
‘Except it’s not a yurt,’ Ed said.
‘It’s just a tent, like a four-man tent.’ Cara’s chin wobbled. ‘We can’t even stand up in it and there’s no bathroom. I’m too old for this –’
‘Have my room,’ Ferdia cut in. ‘I’ve five beds and at least one bathroom.’
‘Stop, Ferdia, I couldn’t.’
‘You could. I don’t care. I don’t need a bathroom. C’mon, Cara, let’s get your stuff and we’ll swap now.’
‘Thanks, Ferdia,’ Ed said. ‘That would be great.’
Tears actually spilt from Cara’s eyes. She seemed slightly broken. Ferdia led her away, his arm around her shoulders.
As the birthday girl, Jessie was the first Casey to the drawing room, to welcome her guests for the pre-dinner drinks. She’d already passed through about a dozen states of mind since they’d arrived. To begin with, she’d been surprised – surely this wasn’t ‘the country-house hotel’ where her much-anticipated fiftieth-birthday weekend was happening? When she understood that it was, she felt violent disappointment.