Susan tucks an errant strand of hair behind Janet's ear, kisses her cheek - leaving behind a faint lip-print - and then goes to take her basket up to the room with all the rugs. She's moved the last few bottles of alcohol outside of it already, so it's empty of all but the rugs and some throw pillows. It's just the work of a moment to unroll a large rug with a spring flower pattern; after it's set out and she's positioned some of the pillows for comfort, she opens up her basket and lays out the supplies. Cheese board, check. Cocktail fixings, check. Oh, she ought to bring up some ice to keep things chilled, oughtn't she?

Getting an ice bucket filled and up to the room brings her right up to the edge of the promised fifteen minutes. Perhaps even a minute or two over. She rests the champagne carefully in the bucket, and then moves with all deliberate haste back to Janet's room.