‘The bathroom is just through that door there.’ Posy turned to see where Clementine was pointing. ‘It’s a Jack and Jill bathroom with the bedroom on the other side, so make sure you lock both doors when you’re in there! There’s a lock on your side of this door, too, if you want to lock that at night.’

‘Who’s sleeping in the other bedroom?’

Clementine checked her clipboard. ‘Um, Marcus, actually.’

Posy tried not to shudder. ‘I’ll definitely lock the door.’

‘Good plan.’

‘So, uh, what do I do now?’ Posy asked, a hopefully endearingly clueless smile on her lips. ‘I mean, do I have a schedule? I’ll be honest, Anton kind of dropped this on me last night, and I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing.’

Indicating the leaflet still clutched in Posy’s hand, Clementine smiled reassuringly. ‘It’s all on there, don’t worry. There’s the murder mystery after lunch, then you have a film panel in the main events tent before dinner. Until then, you can just settle in. Or there’s the house tour before lunch, if you’d like to see more of Aldermere?’

If the China Room was representative, Posy would be happy to skip it. But this was where Lettice Davenport had lived, written and died. So it had to be the next best thing to reading her way through the biography in her bag.

‘House tour sounds good.’

‘Great!’ Clementine grinned, backing away towards the door. ‘In that case, we’re meeting by the dollhouse in twenty minutes. See you there!’

‘Wait!’ Posy called, and Clementine paused, eyebrows raised. ‘Are you sure I can’t get my phone back? If I promise, promise, promise not to post any photos of the house?’

She didn’t care about posting to social media. She just needed to be sure that no one was posting about her. Especially since the news had broken about her playing Dahlia Lively. If anyone was going to post any dirt they’d dug up on her, now would definitely be the time.

Not that there should be any dirt. She hoped.

Checking over her shoulder, Clementine shot her a secret smile. ‘I’ll see what I can do. Come find me this afternoon, okay?’

Relief seeped through Posy’s shoulders and spine. ‘Thanks, Clementine.’

Clementine shut the door behind her and Posy set about unpacking her bag and freshening up. Wash bag in the bathroom, pyjamas under the pillow, outfits hung by day in the wardrobe. Just as she’d been doing in hotel rooms across the UK and America since she was tall enough to reach the hanging rail.

It felt good to be doing it again. Good to be working again.