She smiled. ‘If the cocks are crowing at seven thirty, then you’ll be right. Okay, go back to your pint, I’m heading to bed. Chat tomorrow. Love you.’ She waited until he echoed her words before hanging up.

6

Molly expected to sleep well; the room was almost eerily quiet, the bed extremely comfortable, the pillows perfect, everything designed for a peaceful, relaxing night apart from churning thoughts in her head that kept her tossing and turning. Wide awake before the first light of dawn chased the shadows from the room, she lay still, concentrating on her breathing, hoping to get another hour’s sleep. It didn’t come, but she lay there anyway, uneasy about wandering around the hotel so early. The distant but distinct sound of a cockerel’s cock-a-doodle-doo followed by the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside her open window made her throw back the duvet and swing her feet to the floor.

Checking her phone, she was surprised and pleased to see a message from Jack. It had been sent at four, she guessed the long drinking session with his friends had had its inevitable consequences and he’d used the toilet break wakefulness to text her before going back to sleep. Be careful running on the canal, I worry about you. His concern made her smile. Whatever was wrong, they’d get through it. She sent a quick reply. Heading off soon, wish you were here.

Padding over to the window, she peered around drapes she hadn’t bothered to pull shut and looked out. It was a beautiful day with that just awake fresh greenness that made her open the window wide and take a deep breath. There was no one to be seen, but the murmur of voices drifting from somewhere below indicated the hotel staff, at least, were up and about. She took her running gear from the drawer and pulled it on, tied her hair back with a scrunchie and a minute later, was quietly opening her bedroom door. She stood a moment, listening, then stepped out into the corridor and shut the door behind her.

Downstairs, she was surprised to see quite a few guests were up and about and she had to wait until the one receptionist on duty was free before she could ask her about access to the canal.

‘There’s a path that cuts through the hedge on the right,’ Molly was told, the receptionist pointing towards the hotel gardens. ‘Follow it to the bridge, cross it, and you’ll be on the towpath. You can run for miles in either direction. Keep your eyes open for herons, and if you’re really lucky you might see a kingfisher.’

Molly’s eyes widened. ‘I’ve never seen either.’

‘You should see a heron, they’re fairly common; a kingfisher is harder.’ The receptionist smiled as she admitted, ‘I’ve never seen one, to be honest.’