Mo’s mind was probably still full of the pro-democracy problems in Hong Kong, allied to the fact that her current non-magical state meant she was cloaked while within this backwater.
Like Ayesha, he felt there were no immediate threats against her, so was maybe not as diligent as usual. Either way, it had been easy enough for her to eat a meal with Mo before yawning a few times and retiring for an early night. Then, her trademark long coat buttoned against the late evening chill, she had slipped from the hotel.
Ayesha was surprised to see that even as late as this, the old Big Issue seller still stood on the opposite pavement. They kept it to much more manageable hours in London! Crossing the road she pressed a couple of pound coins into his hand but waved away the offered magazine, saying: “Get off home, pops. It’s getting late,”
“Thank you, lady. You take care now…” the old man called as she strode away, his voice fading as her concentration turned to seeing if this Newport had anything worthwhile on offer for a passing person currently stripped of all magical powers. In all likelihood, it would not be much.