Jag was already on his feet, patting himself down and frowning as he realised that he was wearing the same clothes as last night, and as he had during that odd... dream. That odd dream that hadn't been one; he still had the weed he'd lifted from Val's old room in his pocket.

He padded over silently, looked out at... the grounds. Talk about getting smacked with his class issues in the face, but these were fucking Downton Abbey type grounds.

"Are you sure?" he had to ask, still frowning. "How do you know it's real?"