They strolled slowly through the hotel and out onto a main road, where coaches trundled past, spewing out dusty clouds and people on scooters whizzed by, papping horns and shouting good morning.
“The people are really friendly here,” Rose commented, as they dodged across the busy road.
“That’s partly why I stayed so long,” Shelly agreed.
“How long did you live here?” Rose asked.
“Two years. When the holiday season finished, I worked on Darius’s family’s farm.” She lowered her voice. “I had a whirlwind romance with the head waiter at the time, but it fizzled out and last I heard, he was studying business and economics in Barcelona.”
“You’ve had such an exciting life,” Rose said wistfully, “seen so many places.”
“But there’s no place like home,” Shelly said, as they neared the beach.
