CHAPTER TWENTY
Cassidy, wearing black linen trousers, white top, red jacket, large-brimmed black straw hat and her red and white Chanel sunglasses, had arrived at ten. She had managed to bag a convenient parking spot in the car park and had passed the next couple of hours investigating the shops. Some of the silver jewellery was nice, but it wasn’t her style and the clothes in Frills were a bit too hippy and 1970s; but then, she thought, what would you expect in a backwoods place like this, where people probably still wore smocks and the fishermen wore navy Guernseys and smoked pipes?
Crowds were starting to form, so she made for a vantage point, a higher section of pavement. The sound of rhythmic drumming could be heard in the distance, an ominous beat, the kind that might have accompan
