CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
There were quite a few vehicles in the seventeenth-century coaching inn car park but still plenty of spaces for Malcolm’s Honda.
‘Wait there.’ He opened his door and the wind almost snatched it out of his hand. Bent against the razor-sharp air, he went around to the passenger door and used both hands to hold it open.
The wind was so strong, Audrey and Malcolm were almost propelled through the inn’s battered door. Harry, the landlord, gave Malcolm a cheery welcome. His handsome ruddy face was topped off with a head of dark curls.
‘Could you point me in the right direction?’ Audrey asked, as she tried to recover her hair.
While she headed for the ladies, Harry gave Malcolm a double thumbs-up. ‘You’ve landed on your feet there, mate. She’s an absolute corker.’ He esco
