Rupert booked them a holiday.
It sounded romantic, until Laura found out that the Camel Trail has nothing to do with camels and everything to do with cycling. Seventeen bloody miles of cycling.
There was worse to come. She learned that the next day they were to pedal thirty miles from Padstow to Fowey.
Breakfast time, bright and early, and Laura was nowhere to be seen. Rupert went to wake her, with an indulgent smile on his big red face.
The note read ‘Camel Trail gave me Camel Toe. Gone home…’
As far as I know they never spoke again.
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