5.30 am. More than long enough for them to have in bed, he thought to himself with a malicious smirk as he climbed from his hard bed and padded slowly across the cold stone floor of his room, pulling on his threadbare dressing-gown before moving out into the hall and into the kitchen where he switched on the kettle, dropping six herbal teabags into six slightly grubby cups. They'd be needing all the sustenance they could get once the slightly hyperactive Delilah got her hands on them but first he had to get them up. Moving more briskly now he opened a small wooden door that rattled on its hinges and stepped into the confines of the bell tower, pulling down harshly on the rope and smiling as the bell tolled throughout the monastery.

She was having a lovely dream. She was running along a beach with a light breeze surrounding her and the sea sweeping gently between her toes. Behind her she heard children laughing as they built a sandcastle, enjoying the last days of their holiday and in front of her was nothing but a vast expanse of sand and the beach bar where he sat, sipping a cocktail, smiling as he watched her make fast progress towards him. Then she was level with him, feeling his lips on hers and his arms around her, pulling her to him, seemingly oblivious to their young audience as he kissed her.

'Michael' she mumbled sleepily, pulling his invisible form closer to her as she rolled over but was surprised to feel resistance in the form of someone else being pulled on top of her 'Michael?' she repeated, her voice sharper this time as she opened her eyes and shut them again as the light bit into her brain and she remembered where she was. On top of her she was aware of movement but she didn't open her eyes again, fearing now what she had done while she was drunk and several hundred miles from her husband. One thing she was certain of was that it broke all of the rules laid down by her hosts.
'Jesus' a roar of surprise travelled down the hall as the bell that woke her tolled for a second time, the noise making her brain feel as though it was rattling within her head 'bloody hell, its five thirty' the second shout was more worrying as she identified the voice and started to panic. If Ric was in a room further down the corridor then who on earth was lying on top of her? Not Zubin – she was certain that she hadn't been that drunk. Which left Donna, Chrissie or Mickie. Feeling nausea rising within her she opened her eyes and gazed tentatively out at the sleeping form on the person lying on top of her.
'Oh God' she whispered weakly, surprised to hear the clang of chains as she reached to push the person from on top of her.

'Good night was it?' Zubin had recovered his composure following his rude awakening and was lying on his back, his arms stretched high above his head as they often were when he awoke, surveying the person lying beside him with the smugness of one who wasn't hungover. The maelstrom of suffering occurring beside him was a small price to pay for drinking his entire bottle of vintage malt whiskey and he was determined to enjoy every moment of the other's suffering.
'Shut up' the quilt beside him mumbled and a slight sadistic smile spread across Zubin's features. This particular case of the morning-after-the-night-before would only be made worse when he shared with his bedmate what had only been averted by Zubin taking the initiative and putting them both to bed. It would be an incredibly humiliating revelation for both parties and he could hardly wait to hear the groans.
'I think that was our cue to get up' Zubin remarked, stepping from the bed but finding that something restrained him 'what the hell?'

'Donna?' Mickie opened her eyes blearily and glanced around her surroundings with surprise. Donna's idea of ordering a pizza and bribing the delivery boy to bring two bottles of wine had undoubtedly been ingenious but they hadn't been that drunk. Certainly not drunk enough to pass out on the floor and never make it to bed, yet that seemed to be what had happened. Slowly she sat up, rubbing her shoulder where it had made painful contact with the cold stone floor for the several hours that she had been asleep. Glancing down at her wrist her confusion deepened and she glanced from the band of metal around her arm to the similar ring of metal attached to the radiator and began to panic. This wasn't right.
'Calm down' a voice came from the bathroom and she turned to see a strangely familiar silhouette lying on the floor of the darkened bathroom, chained to a tap 'I know who's done this, I don't think he's going to hurt us'

'Are they awake?' Delilah trilled as she entered the kitchen and Archie winced. The woman drove him mad – she was clearly utterly insane and had an irritating tendency to sing everything that she said.
'I think so' he shrugged, knowing that she would have heard their cries of surprise and outrage just as clearly as he had.
'Right, give them a couple of hours to stew and we'll go up and put them out of their misery' she stated, pouring water onto a teabag and inhaling the aroma of artificial strawberries that filled the room.
'Are you sure this is even legal?' he asked tensely, tapping his long thin fingers on the cracked stone work surface and ignoring his own cup of tea that had long since gone cold. When she'd arrived in the small hours complete with this ridiculous plan he had tried to talk her out of it but there was no stopping her. All he had been able to do was to attempt to curb the worst of her over enthusiasm and pray that nobody sued.
'Of course – we're not hurting them, but I bet they won't find handcuffs so funny after this' On that point at least they were in perfect agreement.