The morning sun felt good on his back , and the biscuits and milk had allayed the major hunger pangs , so Peter settled himself to wait patiently. He was in a contemplative mood , thinking back over his past travels . Reaching into his pack he withdrew the small diary that he kept there , and which he used to record the major events of his trip , as well as using it as a kind of account book .

The cash expenditure of the past month or so had been a trifle more than he had intended , and so he knew he would need to refill his coffers very soon. Meanwhile , he did have a credit card and a couple of traveller's cheques that he had been saving for any emergency . Nevertheless , this morning , if he wanted to eat before he could get to a cash machine or an open bank , he would have to draw upon his special reserve.

Always the cautious one , he had secreted a couple of notes in a slot in the back of the diary , not enough to sustain him for long , but enough for the moment . He slid them out , thought for a moment , and then returned the larger one to the secret compartment . Then taking his pen that was part of the diary , he began to write in the story of the night before . Generally he made observations of where he had been and what he had done , daily if he was able , but he thought that he would not attempt to forecast what he would be doing in this village.

In his earlier days, he had taught himself a system of shorthand , and over time had modified it into what now resembled a code, probably easily broken by an expert , but sufficiently esoteric to baffle anyone who picked up the diary casually and tried to read it . After he had completed the entry , including the 40 p for the milk , he clipped the pen into its place and returned the book to the rucksack .

Satisfied with that small chore , he decided that it was now time to go for breakfast . Crossing the road he passed by the florist shop where a woman of somewhat elderly appearance was arranging the display . She glanced up , and then , as he walked past , moved outside to the front of the entrance , and stared at him openly , following his progress down the street.

Both the eating places had opened , so he paused for a moment before each of them as he walked along the footpath . It was , he thought , pretty much of a tossup between them, but The Jumping Bean had a bit of an air of being more likely to cater for morning teas , coffee and cakes than for anything hearty . The Wishing Well looked as if it would provide something a little more substantial , even if it had a touch of the greasy spoon about it . So , slipping his rucksack off his right shoulder , he pushed the door open .

A small bell clanged , and the young girl who was busy stacking clean cutlery into open drawers by the counter , turned and looked round at him . Peter made a tentative gesture towards a single table near the window , raising his eyebrows to ask whether he should sit there .

-- That will be fine , said the young girl . She picked up a metal clip stand holding a menu and brought it to the table . She stood there looking at him him with a hint of curiosity .

-- I think I'll make it the full English breakfast , said Peter with a smile . I haven't eaten much over the last few days .

-- Tea or coffee ? , asked the girl .

-- Oh tea , please , said Peter , and the girl moved over to a large urn , picked up a nearby metal teapot , dropped a teabag into it and filled it from the urn. Then she called across the room ,

-- Milk ?

-- Yes please , said Peter , and she brought the teapot , a cup and saucer and spoon , together with a small container of milk and placed them on the table in front of him.

-- Be a minute , said the girl . Won't take too long . You're the first this morning so not everything is ready yet .

-- That's all right , said Peter and settled back relaxed to gaze out of the window . He was immediately aware of the watchful eyes of the woman from the flower shop , who had apparently followed him part of the way to the cafe . As soon as she saw him notice her , she turned hurriedly back into her shop .

-- Don't worry about her , laughed the girl from behind the counter . If curiosity was to kill that cat , she'd be long dead .

A minute or so later she brought the breakfast . Peter looked for a name tag so he could thank her by name , but she wasn't wearing one , so he merely said his thanks and proceeded to tuck in .

He had almost finished when the bell clanged again and a young looking policemen entered .