Home again

As the train pulled into Waverley, a thought struck me.

"What if they're waiting for us, Kate?" I asked, suddenly feeling panicky.

"They might be, but I think it's probably unlikely. They don't have unlimited resources, so I can't see them watching the railway station all the time. Besides, what are they going to do in a busy public place? The worst they can do - if they're here at all - is follow us."

"Fair point. But now we're back here. what next? I suppose we could head for my flat - or would it be better going wherever you live?"

By now we were entering the hall where the ticket office is, and sure enough there were people milling everywhere.

"Hmm," she replied, "not sure either of those suggestions is a good one. Staking out our flats would be a piece of cake for them. No, I think we need to find alternative accommodation."

Kate had reached the row of cash machines and was getting more money out. She was clearly waiting for me to ask, so I obliged.

"Well, I suggest we do what any average couple of British tourists would do: we find a nice little B&B, of course."



Story begins here.