‘Dolores, it’s me… Ella,’ she said, slowly pulling back the curtain. Dolores was lying underneath a white cotton sheet with a blue blanket tucked in around her chest, fast asleep. Ella couldn’t help but smile. Even though Dolores was in hospital, her hair was just so, her blonde curls framing her face and resting over her shoulders, and she had a full face of makeup. She looked peaceful lying there, even though she was hooked up to a machine at the side of her bed, the wires protruding from a gap in her nightie. It bleeped every few seconds.

Slipping quietly on to the chair at the side of her bed, Ella switched her phone to silent. She watched Dolores sleeping. The map of wrinkles on her face showed a life of experience, her eyebrows were immaculately shaped, and Ella was a teeny bit jealous that her eyelashes looked better than her own. She wondered what sort of life Dolores had lived. Thinking back to the star-studded line-up in the photograph album over at The Lakehouse, that was certainly a different world to today’s. These days the world was full of reality-TV stars that had no real talent, their careers based on their looks or their love life. Whereas Dolores was an actual singer with fans who followed her career. From what Wilbur had said, she had lived life to the max and fulfilled ambitions others could only dream of, and her career had started at The Lakehouse. Ella wanted to know all about it.

For a moment she watched Dolores sleep before reaching for the well-thumbed magazine on the table next to the bed. She flicked from page to page until Dolores began to stir. The second she opened her eyes, Dolores smiled at Ella and was in good spirits.

‘A visitor… It’s lovely to see you… They can’t get rid of me just yet,’ she joked, sitting up straighter. ‘I’m destined to receive my letter from the Queen.’

Ella leant forward and gave her hand a little squeeze. She couldn’t help thinking that must be something you think about a lot when you reach that time of your life. ‘It’s lovely to see you too. You gave everyone a little scare there for a minute. Please don’t do it again.’

Dolores gave a chuckle. ‘I’ll try not to. How’s my brood, are they behaving? I’m missing them.’

‘McCartney and Fred are just fine, don’t worry about them. McCartney slept on my bed, he’s made himself at home. How are you feeling?’

‘Bored is what I am. The conversation isn’t up to much in here, and this bed is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve slept on in a long time. I just want to go home.’

‘You’ll be home soon enough, I’m sure of it.’

‘So what have I missed?’