Ordinarily, Emily would have enjoyed the train ride from Paddington station. Rolling west, she was seated comfortably next to a wide picture window, a smiling young mother holding her sleeping baby across the way, a gaggle of passengers behind her chatting amiably, the deep-green landscape dipping and rising. Moreover, each expanse was marked by neat, coloring-book hedgerows—all of it ideal for a tour guide headed west for the center of Bath on a pleasant, early Wednesday afternoon. Just a short cab ride to pick up her rented Vauxhall station wagon and she would be lazily wending her way to Darlington House to meet up with her clients.
Ordinarily, Emily would have also been looking forward to going to the market to pick out her trip snacks of fruit, nuts, and assorted biscuits followed by
