ABRA HAD THE HOLIDAY brochures out and spread all over the coffee table and settee when Rafferty arrived home. She was surrounded by them, each cover destination looked more exotic and costly than the previous one.
'You can put those away, sweetheart,' Rafferty told her as he flung his coat over the back of the settee and flourished Nigel's brochure. 'Your hero has saved the day. I got us a good deal on a villa in the south of France.'
'The south of France? But I fancied somewhere more far-flung for our honeymoon.'
'There's nothing wrong with the south of France. And do you really want to spend the best part of a day either way scrunched up in an airplane seat when we might be enjoying our own pool and celebratory bubbly?'
'Well, when you put it like that...'
'You know it makes sense,
