CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Two weeks to go, Cassidy thought on Friday afternoon, flicking through images on her laptop when she should have been cutting and proofreading a double-page spread. She had decided to use four days of her holiday allowance, though she could always extend it if she was enjoying herself. She had ten days due to her, after all. Although Cornwall wasn’t Cannes, she was quite looking forward to her little jaunt. There was something quaint and old-fashioned about holidaying in England; something sepia-tinted and speckled with words like ‘Fayre’ and ‘cream teas’.
She had her itinerary planned. Fly to Newquay on the Friday morning, pick up her hire car at the airport, check into a sea-view hotel she had found on the internet (no vacancies at that lovely spa hotel), then visit the
