[15: everyone forgets that...] They stepped off the train, the conductor all but cursing as they left, and it was up to speed before they even got a good look about. The sun was setting behind the rolling hills, and the little train platform seemed so tiny after the huge expanse of the London terminal. Just a pair of tracks, one going each direction, and a narrow strip of asphalt with a bench and a roof. Their uncle checked his watch, snapping the little pocket-watch shut again with a loud click, and tucked it back in his pocket. "Not too bad, I suppose. Only eight minutes late. This way!" He gestured to the end of the platform, and started walking. The girls had to hurry to catch up, legs tired from dancing. As they got to the end of the platform, a car started its engine, a long, careful-looking black car, and its headlights came to life. The driver rolled down the window, "Good day, sir! The trip wasn't too long, I hope?" "No, Nigel, it was fine. The trains were late as always. And we nearly missed the stop. These two were up to their own devices." They got in the car, and drove toward the house. The road wound up the side of the hill, and through a large open expanse, and to a little cluster of houses clinging to the side of the hill. "Girls, welcome to Broad Mountain" came Nigel's curt but friendly voice from the front of the car. The driveway was set up in the old, grand style of manor houses, a curved arch surrounded by hedges and garden, and the front of the house felt imposing. The cold late afternoon light didn't help, giving the house a sort of forboding feel. The car stopped at the front door, and the girls got out, their uncle stretching a little, then walking up past them and into the house. "There's tea in ten minutes, in the drawing room, there at the end of the hall. Go wash up. Your rooms are upstairs. Meera, yours is the one on the right. Sama, yours is on the left."