Next Ella searched for Dolores Henderson on Google. Immediately up popped numerous articles on Dolores, taking her completely by surprise. Ella read headlines about fans queueing for hours along the riverbank to try and secure Dolores Henderson tickets. There was a picture of Dolores on the roof terrace at The Lakehouse whilst a select crowd of fifty watched from the sandy bay below.

Ella carried on reading. There were hundreds of articles describing Dolores as a sex symbol who regularly sold out concert halls, and there were pictures of her hanging out with all the rich and famous in the most magnificent dresses. She carried on clicking, then hovered over one dramatic headline: ‘Will Dolores Henderson Be a Future Princess?’ Wilbur had been right, Dolores could have been royalty.

The newspaper reported how Dolores had spent the summer with Prince George under the scorching sun in St Tropez. They’d enjoyed time on his yacht and were photographed together from a distance diving off the boat, swimming under the most spectacular waterfalls, and Dolores looked stunning.

Ella read on and was taken aback by the next headline: ‘Dolores Dumps the Prince!’ The article described how it was believed that the prince had proposed to Dolores in the South of France, but on their return they had gone their separate ways. From what Ella could find on online, Dolores had stayed out of the limelight for the rest of the year before returning to sell-out gigs across the United Kingdom. Ella searched but she couldn’t ever find anyone romantically linked to Dolores at all after the prince. It felt like the whole of Dolores’ personal life had simply disappeared from public scrutiny.

Shutting the lid of the laptop, Ella ruffled the top of McCartney’s head. ‘Right then, McCartney, it looks like it’s me and you.’ He opened one eye. ‘Let’s go for a walk. I’ve not been up to Starcross Manor yet. You can lead the way.’ Ella jumped up and grabbed McCartney’s lead. He may be deaf, but he wasn’t blind and the second he saw his lead, he was off the sofa and weaving in and out of Ella’s legs with his tail wagging madly.