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Post by Kate McDermot on Nov 18, 2016 13:25:55 GMT -8
Kate's headlights illuminated ancient stone walls and cobbled streets as she maneuvered her little BMW around the tight corners that were a result of the narrow, winding streets of Penchurch. The darkness certainly didn't help. Driving in Penchurch would have been difficult in daylight, but in the January evening darkness, it was a dicey operation. Finally, a small petrol station sign appeared in the beam of her lights, and she glanced at her petrol gauge automatically. It had been a long drive from her London flat, and she was running quite low. It would be best to fill up her tank now, before she found somewhere to stay for the night. She just hoped the place was open.
She pulled into the garage forecourt, turned off the engine and flicked off the lights. Kate immediately regretted this, as it was suddenly pitch black. After allowing her eyes to adjust for a moment, she stepped out of her car, locked it (though Penchurch hardly looked like a hotbed of criminal activity to her) and turned, took a step, then fell over in a puddle. Great entrance.
So, this was Penchurch. She had to admire the choice of location- she doubted this place had changed much at all since the Napoleonic wars. Kate certainly felt like she had stepped back in time. The place had a beautiful, old-school village feel, and Kate loved it. She could see that she was going to enjoy living and working here.
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