ESCAPE
It is only my charming personality and refusal to gloat that keeps me out of my colleagues’ bad books after a weekend at the Lookout. “It was really nice,” I tell them on Monday, while internally screeching with delight. I’ve found paradise, dear reader, and now (probably) won’t need that summer holiday.
The trigger for my new-found bliss? A two-bedroom beach house with delicious interiors by Edinburgh’s Hen & Crask that sits right on the waterpatiently shows us round while we coo and sigh and make jokes about having the locks changed.
