Izzy, the events organiser and all-round incompetent whose dad happened to be club treasurer, found me in the smaller of the two private dining rooms, setting out the table for an evening event.
She rushed in, eyes wild, swearing repeatedly under her breath. I heaved a mental sigh.
‘What?’
‘A mistake’s been made with tonight’s booking.’
‘The party of six for that finance company?’
‘Sort of.’
‘What do you mean, sort of?’ I carried on laying knives and forks just so.
‘That’s the mistake. It isn’t a party of six.’
‘Izzy, if you’re expecting me to sort out another one of your cock-ups, you’d better tell me what it is.’
‘A number was somehow missed off the booking form.’
‘Izzy.’
‘Sixty guests are arriving in just over an hour.’ She sank into a chair, lowered her head into her hands, and began swearing again.
At that point, Perry Upperton strode into the dining room wearing a tuxedo.
‘Ah. Sorry. My mistake. I’m looking for the Churchill Room.’
‘Yes. This is it.’
Perry looked around. ‘No. I’m looking for the room where my party is tonight. For PSU Finance?’
I placed the tray of cutlery on the table, and took a deep breath. Izzy had ceased muttering, but now crouched in the chair like a frightened mole.
‘Mr Upperton, on behalf of HCC, please accept my sincerest apologies. There has been a mistake with your booking which has only just been discovered. Our records made a rather grave error regarding the number of guests.’
Perry’s eyes flicked around the room, with the one central banqueting table elegantly laid out for six.
‘You are kidding me.’
‘No. Look, I’m going to do my absolute best to sort this. And I’m pretty sure we’re only going to charge you for six guests. Did you send through a seating plan?’ I took a step towards him.
‘I did.’
‘And talk about the room arrangements, music, centrepieces, stuff like that?’
‘Yes. I spoke about all these things with the events manager. Izzy Black. I would like to speak to her. Please.’
I tipped my head in the direction of Izzy.
‘Ah.’
‘Right. Here’s what I’m going to do. First, I need to speak to the chef. What menu had you ordered?’
He looked back at me. ‘I can’t remember. And at this point, I don’t really care.’
I pulled out my pad and made a couple of notes. ‘Okay, we’ll see what he says. I’ll make sure we bring in the extra staff, and Izzy will print out your function list and get started on sorting the room. The ballroom is empty, but it will need dressing.’
‘What can I do?’ he asked.
