‘She could fly. We could arrange a driver from the airport.’

‘I don’t think she should be on her own.’

‘Who, then?’

‘I’ll ask Lawrence.’

‘You’d send her away with a stranger? On a trip like this?’

‘He’s a good man. Reliable. Calm. That’s what she needs. The bookings are all in place. Lawrence can take my car.’

‘Have you asked him yet?’

‘I’ll do it right now.’

Forty minutes later, it was organised. He’d come to Maxie’s suite, listened quietly as Olivia explained the situation, asked several questions and then agreed.

Maxie waited until he’d left before turning to Olivia. ‘I know this is inappropriate, given the circumstances, but he’s handsome, isn’t he? Smart too. Is he single?’

Olivia rubbed her eyes. ‘I don’t know. But you’re right. That is inappropriate.’

*

Eliza was taken aback at the news. ‘Lawrence? But I hardly know him.’

‘Just think of him as your chauffeur,’ Olivia said. ‘He’ll follow your lead the whole time.’

‘So he knows everything about me now? All my family secrets?’

‘We told him the bare minimum. That you were going to look for your father, or to talk to someone who might have known him. It’s up to you if you want to tell him anything else.’

Eliza thought about it. Perhaps it was the best possible arrangement. Someone professional, distant and responsible, acting as, yes, her chauffeur. She’d only had brief exchanges with Lawrence since she’d been at the Montgomery, but he had always been kind, courteous. There’d even been glints of humour when Celine was involved. She agreed.

On the way back to her room, she saw him working at the front desk and walked over.

‘I’m sure it’s not in your job description,’ she said quietly, ‘but I really appreciate it.’

‘You’re welcome, Eliza,’ he said.

She noticed again how his smile transformed his face.

She told Celine that afternoon that she wouldn’t be able to work with her again that week. Celine insisted on knowing why. Eliza said she needed to go to Ireland. That Lawrence was taking her.

‘Well, well, isn’t he the dark horse?’ she said. ‘Sucking up to the boss’s goddaughter. Whisking her off for some Celtic sightseeing. And a bit more than that too, I bet.’

‘It’s nothing like that, Celine.’

‘I suppose you’re taking Sullivan too? Your little crony.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Eliza said. He had asked if he could come, when Eliza messaged him that afternoon. She’d promised him an Irish souvenir instead.

‘I hope your plane crashes,’ Celine said, turning back to the TV.

‘We’re going by ferry.’

‘I hope it sinks,’ Celine said. She pointed the remote control and turned up the volume.