Chapter Three
Connie practically waddled along the corridor to Frances’s office. Despite her protests, Craig had presented her with a large plate, piled high with delicious breakfast foods. And, much to his delight, Connie had demolished nearly all of it—hence the almost-waddling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so full up. Perhaps it was just because she’d been so empty to begin with, but an immense feeling of satisfaction settled over her even though she was, indeed, in danger of popping. Thank goodness her hiking trousers had an elasticated waistband.
With what felt like a superhuman effort, Connie lifted her hand and knocked on the door she’d arrived outside. A smart, brass sign fixed to it simply read Frances McKenzie.
“Come in,” called a voice.
Connie opened the do
