Chapter 47
The stark beauty of snow-capped mountains surrounding a wide, blue lake barely touched John’s consciousness. Yet another stop in England. Yet another picture perfect village, with a perfect bed and breakfast waiting for them.
He stared without really seeing the rows of typical, cozy shops along the high street, nearly empty of visitors in the dead of winter. Half the shops specializing in hiking gear, local arts and crafts, and clothing and gifts for tourists sat closed for the season.
Three blocks down and one street over, their home for the night looked just like all the others. On the street, and on this entire trip and all of England, it seemed to John. Brick or stone ground floor, whitewashed second story with strips of wood for structure or simply because tourists expec
