When they returned, she left him and went to sort out her room and unpack, then she sat in ‘her’ room for a while, soaking in the feeling that she...was at home there. At nine, her mobile rang. It was Peter.“Where are you?” he asked without preamble.“At John’s,” she said coldly.“Didn’t he find you a hotel?”“Peter, you know that was never the plan. I wouldn’t have gone to a hotel if he’d booked one. He did give me the option. You know why I didn’t take it.”“I don’t like this,” he said.She could. The tunnel was nearly a mile long and looked like the arch over the new gate of the goat/sheep pen in the main valley, just longer. The floor of the tunnel was dirt, but the walls were stone and the ceiling was a stone arch nearly ten feet high. The tunnel was seven feet wide, plenty wide for loaded mules. I guessed that a mounted rider who kept his head down could ride through the tunnel.“What are those?” I asked, pointing to round holes spaced every fifty feet or so in the top of the tunnel.. More

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