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Francine looked up at her, the three-second stare as she contemplated her response. “Well, I’d prefer it. It makes sense for you to be within shouting distance.”

“Good, and would it be alright if I wandered around and did the touristy thing?” Morgan asked, holding up her phone to show an image of the sun shining through the stained glass windows. “I’d really like to check it out.”

Francine was already back into whatever she was doing. “Sure, why not.”

Morgan settled back into her seat, smiling to herself. She could find ways to keep herself busy. The Magna Carta was there, that would be interesting.

It should have only been a ninety-minute journey from Winchester, but roadworks had caused a diversion, and it was nearer two hours by the time they pulled up in front of another version of Downton.

“Are all the hotels like this?” Morgan asked curiously as she stared up at the beautiful brickwork and façade covered in ivy.

“I guess.” Francine shrugged. “Give her a poke, will ya?”

“Why’s she so sleepy anyway?” Morgan asked, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning towards Alex.

“Up all night,” Francine answered. “She’s worrying about something, that much I do know. Found her in the bar this morning playing the piano all by herself, well, and a bunch of cleaners and the early shift arriving.”

Morgan said nothing, instead, she leaned forward and gently shook Alex by the arm. “Hey, time to wake up. We’re here.”

Slowly, Alex’s eyes prised open, and she squinted against the bright light until everything came into focus and she found that intense, concerned stare aimed in her direction.

“Hi,” Alex said, still half asleep and not wanting to turn away.

“Hey,” Morgan said gently. “We’re here.”

Finally, Alex turned to look out of the window. “That was quick.”

Francine rolled her eyes and smirked at Morgan. “Maybe for you, sleepyhead. We had to sit through traffic and diversions.”

Alex stretched.

“Sorry, that must have been a bore without me here to entertain you.”

A grin stretched across Francine’s face, just as Mike opened the door. “You’ll never know just how much you’re wrong,” she said before climbing out. “Thank you, Michael.”

Alex chuckled, before her attention moved back to Morgan, who waited patiently because she couldn’t get out without clambering all over Alex and invading her personal space. “I hope it wasn’t too long a journey with Francine ignoring you.”

One shoulder shrugged. “I can deal with it.” Morgan smiled and held her gaze for as long as Alex could deal with it.

“Okay, let’s get inside then, and you can enjoy the spa and—”

“I’m going to the cathedral,” Morgan interjected. “I think it makes more sense, and I’d like to see the buildings. I enjoy the history and architecture. Francine said it was okay.”

“Oh, right, okay, that’s a plan then.” Alex smiled quickly before she turned and got out. “Shall we go in?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she sped towards the entrance and a waiting Francine, alongside someone who she suspected was the manager.

Morgan watched her go before she, too, got out of the car. “Thanks, Mike.”

“Any time. Go on, I’ll arrange for bags to be taken up.” He smiled sincerely at her, and she returned it, before she took a deep breath and walked towards the disappearing group already entering the building.

The grand suite was in fact, just like the name suggested: grand. The manager smiled as everyone filed into the room. Morgan didn’t wait for pleasantries this time; it was obvious which room would be hers, and she opened the door to it and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Another four-poster bed, this time with huge curtains hanging on all corners and huge pillows stacked up against the headboard. It looked comfortable and huge. There was a small walk-in closet for clothes and a shower room to one side. The large window looked over rolling hills and the tennis court.

“I guess this is home for now,” she said to herself, swinging with one hand around the closest bed pole.

Inspection over, she re-entered the living room and found Francine and Alex going over details for that afternoon. More interviews, sound checks, rehearsal. Nothing Morgan needed to be concerned about.

“What time are we leaving?” she asked.