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Good Morning Britain’s Ed Balls and Susanna Reid were detailing the latest headlines on Monday morning when the ITV star opened up on the ordeal

Susanna Reid has shared an ordeal that happened to her in a hotel room a few years ago.

During Monday’s (March 9) episode of Good Morning Britain, the presenter, who recently paid an emotional tribute to her former co-star, explained that a man once walked into her hotel room when she was asleep.

It comes after the programme was discussing a woman who had been sexually assaulted in her hotel room after a man lied to staff in order to get into her room.

Explaining what had happened, she shared: “It happened to me in America, obviously not this seriously. But I was staying at a hotel in Florida for work, and somebody came into my room in the middle of the night with their suitcase.

“Honestly, the shock you have when that happens. They’d said to the receptionist, ‘I’ve lost my key for this particular room’. They had given the wrong room number. I don’t think intentionally, I think mistakenly.

“Again, it makes me feel slightly ill talking about it. I went, ‘Excuse me!’ and they went, ‘Oh, I’m really sorry and left’.

The GMB star explained that reception gave her an apology and explained very casually that they’d given out the wrong room key.

Susanna added: “It’s extraordinary that this happens, in this case, it led to a crime being committed.”

Reffering back to the news headline being discussed on the show, Susanna called the incident “absolutely shocking”.

ITV viewers learnt that a man had met a woman at a party, found out where she was staying and lied to the reception staff at the Travelodge hotel, saying he was her boyfriend and had lost his hotel key.

Susanna added: “He then accesses her bedroom, it makes me feel sick. He accesses her bedroom and sexually assaults her.

“She only knew this person because they met at a party, he was not in any way involved with her, was not in a relationship with her and should absolutely not of been allowed to get into her hotel room.”

The man, who has been named as Kyran Smith, has been convicted of sexual assault and has been given a seven and a half year sentence. The victim was given a £30 refund, which she has since blasted as “very insulting”.

A Travelodge spokesman said: “The safety and security of our guests is our priority and we were deeply concerned to hear of this distressing incident and our sympathies are with the victim.

“At the time of the incident our hotel team followed the correct security procedures. We continue to ensure our hotel and customer services teams are trained to follow our approved policies.”

Good Morning Britain is available to watch on ITVX

If you or somebody you know has been affected by this story, contact Victim Support for free, confidential advice on 08 08 16 89 111 or visit their website, http://www.victimsupport.org.uk.

They witnessed something inexplicable…

As a child, I relocated to a secluded hamlet near Wimborne in Dorset. This hamlet was situated less than a mile from the now-deserted and dilapidated Knowlton Church, a medieval building that’s reputedly haunted. When I was younger, I seldom visited Knowlton Church, but my fascination with its history and purported ghostly inhabitants grew after we moved away.

The church itself is reputed to be among Dorset’s most haunted locations – and with good reason. This Norman place of worship, erected in the 12th century, stands at the heart of a Neolithic ritual henge, a site of pagan worship.

According to the English Heritage website, the church symbolises the region’s shift from pagan to Christian worship.

It’s thought that parts of the church were built using some of the ancient standing stones found on the site, reports the Express.

However, it’s not just the church that gives Knowlton its distinctive character. The parish church also stands in the centre of earthworks.

According to the English Heritage website, the Neolithic earthwork “is one of the great Neolithic and Bronze Age ceremonial complexes in southern England”.

The main earthwork, known as ‘Church Henge’, encircles the church and has been protected from plough damage, while the others are only discernible in aerial photographs.

The church and village’s history fascinates me, but during my teenage years, one aspect drew me back to Knowlton: the ghosts.

One evening, my mates and I decided to venture back to the church in hopes of catching a glimpse of the alleged ghosts.

The church is reportedly haunted by several spirits, including a phantom horse and rider who are seen galloping across the grounds at night, even passing through the church itself; a ghostly face that materialises in the top window of the tower; and, some claim, a sobbing woman kneeling outside the building.

I’ve always been a believer in ghosts and the supernatural, but I’d never had a personal encounter with the paranormal.

We parked the car near the church, its headlights illuminating the building, and waited for something eerie to occur. At first, nothing happened.

We nervously chatted and giggled, our eyes glued to the medieval structure.

Then, out of nowhere, the church vanished from sight, as if shrouded by a dark veil. We all screamed and jumped in our seats as the building disappeared, only to reappear moments later as if nothing had transpired.

My initial reaction was one of fear; what on earth had I just witnessed? Was this some sort of prank? Was someone watching us, trying to frighten us off?

My gut told me to bolt. Some of my friends felt the same way and wanted to leave, but one was keen to investigate further. We quickly agreed it was safer to head home.

While my encounter was certainly out of the ordinary, I’m not alone in experiencing supernatural phenomena at Knowlton Church. Cheryl, a local from Salisbury, told Bournemouth Echo in 2022 that she’s convinced she spotted a ghost there.

Upon reviewing her photographs of the church, she noticed something peculiar: a shadowy figure lurking in an archway.

Other adventurers and self-proclaimed ghost hunters also claim they’ve had similar eerie experiences.

Today, Knowlton is a quaint hamlet nestled in a secluded location, but centuries ago, it was a thriving village teeming with life. It’s thought that the bubonic plague, infamously known as the ‘Black Death’, decimated the population in the late 15th century.

The survivors abandoned their homes and relocated, leaving the dwellings to decay. Over time, the structures were ploughed into the ground, though their foundations are still visible in certain areas today.

Despite the village being deserted, it’s believed the church continued to serve its purpose until the 18th century, when the roof caved in. However, local lore suggests the church fell into disrepair after its bell was stolen and tossed into the river.

Depending on who you ask, the bell was either taken by the Devil himself or a band of thieves attempted to snatch it but were thwarted by a witch.

As for what I witnessed that night, I can’t say for certain. It could have been mere mist or a play of light, but the feeling it evoked will forever be etched in my memory.

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If you’re reading this review of Gore Verbinski’s maniacal farce “Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” in newsprint, congratulations on being a Luddite.

But if you’re reading it on a smartphone, then you’re one of the suckers that Sam Rockwell is hoping to reach when his unnamed time traveler barges into a late-night Los Angeles diner screaming, “I am from the future and all of this goes horribly wrong!” The patrons pause scrolling to glance at this unhinged, unwashed man wearing a crown of computer wires wrapped around his head like an IT messiah. Then they get a good look at his shoes when he stomps on their tables, kicking cheeseburgers as he tries to make these regular folks engage with the tech-pocalypse he swears is coming.

It’s a sermon we’ve heard plenty of times before and possibly even delivered ourselves. Coming from the ever-charismatic Rockwell, a lecture to stop wasting our lives online sounds no more insurmountable, only more immediate.

Half of the world will die, he foretells. The other half will be too distracted to notice. That is, unless a handful of strangers join him right now, right this moment, to fight for humanity’s cerebral freedom. Unsurprisingly, volunteers don’t raise their hands. (The one eager guy who does has failed him too often in other scenarios.) But Rockwell’s time traveler — he really is one — is used to a firewall of resistance. He’s given this speech at this diner 117 times. Some combination of the 47 people in it is fated to succeed.

That opening scene sounds as if an AI merged “The Terminator” with “Groundhog Day.” True, Matthew Robinson’s funny, savage and surprising script doesn’t downplay its inspirations. (He even lets Rockwell rip off Indiana Jones’ line about snakes.) But the screenplay gets so intricate and angry — and so shamelessly ambitious — you can’t believe someone in today’s Hollywood was willing to put up the money to get it made. Even helmed by proven hitmaker Verbinski of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” franchise, it’s a feat akin to convincing someone to fund a skyscraper-sized cuckoo clock that has a bird that pops out and heckles the crowd.

Eventually, a dubious crew enlists: public school teachers Mark and Janet (Michael Peña and Zazie Beetz), grouchy ride-share driver Scott (Asim Chaudhry), assistant Boy Scout leader Bob (Daniel Barnett), jittery mom Susan (Juno Temple) and forlorn Maria (Georgia Goodman), who keeps sighing that all she wanted was a slice of pie. Rockwell also impulsively yokes in Ingrid (Haley Lu Richardson), a grungy girl in a princess dress, who seems to be on her own suicide mission. The actors are mostly just pegs in a complicated plot, but they snap into place well.

The man from the future doesn’t have a plan — and worse, he considers himself the only person who isn’t expendable. The others can die (and do). As the group shuffles toward catastrophe, Verbinski intercuts their mission with flashbacks to their civilian lives. Their ordinary days, the digital indignities they’ve borne, that’s where Verbinski really gets mean.

The film’s feints and twists are fabulous as they explore how the internet’s promise has soured. One plotline involves a corporate brainstorm to make people love and nurture their own talking adbot, essentially a human-sized Tamagotchi. In another, school shootings have become such an epidemic that when Temple’s Susan gets summoned to identify her ninth-grader’s corpse, the other grieving mothers at the station calmly chitchat about traffic until one glances over at her nonchalantly and says, “First time?”

At first, the not-so-original idea that phones have turned children into zombies is a Romero-style parody of brain rot. (The young actor Cassiel Eatock-Winnik has a great scene as a vicious teen who stares down one of her elders and says, “You’re 35? That’s, like, older than most trees.”) But Verbinski reveals an unexpected angle of attack: Here, society has groomed the next generation to behave like machines. We don’t know why, exactly, but we can imagine a few reasons.

Even coping mechanisms take fire. Susan meets more parents who’ve snapped under the strain and become nihilistic trolls raising their daughter to be toxic so it won’t matter as much if she dies. Another character is quick to insist that everything he’s looking at — the walls, the people — is a facade. A 20-something gig worker named Tim (Tom Taylor) wants to permanently live in a VR simulation. His story is a little rushed but we get the idea that Tim’s not a jerk, just an idealist who can’t handle the tawdriness of the 21st century. As he puts it, “Why would I choose this world over that one?”

Verbinski doesn’t say much outright about the creeping concern that we’re living in a highly surveilled, aggressive and unpredictable police state. He’s able to make that point without words when cops arrive and our heroes-slash-hostages, none of whom have yet done anything worse than skip out on their bill, all assume the itchy trigger finger of the law will shoot them on sight. (And they’re right.) He also makes an ominous refrain of “Thank you for your service.”

It’s easier to howl at a classic like “Dr. Strangelove,” which mocked the leaders giddyuping the planet’s destruction, than at a present-day satire where we ourselves are the joke. As with “Idiocracy” (and eventually “Eddington”), our ability to fully appreciate this merciless, furious comedy might take a decade of remove. Even then, though, I won’t like James Whitaker’s cinematography, which goes for a deliberate ugliness but just looks dishwater drab.

“Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” anticipates the audience’s resistance. We do think for ourselves and so we scour the movie for flaws that will justify the urge to roll our eyes. For example: Why does Rockwell let some characters die and not others? Is the movie just as shallow as its j’accuse of us? Some quibbles get answered. Larger questions are left coyly unresolved so that we leave the theater uneasy.

There are so many overwhelming ideas in “Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” that, at over two hours, it does have the sense of a dissociative doomscroll. There’s even a plot point involving an algorithmic overlord that creates randomly generated armies: “Ghostbusters” with AI slop. The normie survivors try to convince themselves it might send something good, like they’re thumbing TikTok hoping for a treasure worth the time. Rockwell assures them it won’t. Nothing good will ever come. And what does arrive is so hellacious that it makes the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man look sweet.

The film is too cynical to take itself that seriously; Verbinski would roll his eyes at any thoughts and prayers it could do much good. Yet, anyone born with “19” at the start of their birthyear still remembers how it felt to leave the house without a black rectangle in their hands. That makes us all time travelers of a sort, too, beacons of an increasingly distant era in which it was possible to be unplugged.

But it’s OK if you’re on your screen right now. Just sit before a bigger one to see this film.