They stood in front of the pub as Streak drove off to stash the car, their travel bags left dumped on the ground by the curb. The place was picture-perfect with its thatched roof, and yet it didn’t have the look, so common in some parts of England, of having been deliberately crafted in that image to deceive gullible visitors. It had always looked this way. Michael signed them in and paid in full, in advance, with a service fee just a little above what might have been expected but below what would have been ostentatious. Flaunting excessive wealth would not have been in keeping with the town.