Bang! The screen door slammed shut, scattering leaves. Thomas' footsteps reverberated on the concrete path as he pounded down the street.

You can do it, Waterhouse! You can do it!

Brightly coloured houses streaked past him, his bag thumped against his spine and air rasped in and out of his lungs. Frenzied action and anticipation had wound them into two tight balls, but his body — stiff, sore and reluctant — pushed on.

The sofa had been God awful. Far too narrow to support his broad shoulders and so well used, every spring and piece of wood had dug into him.

Tossing and turning, he'd chided himself for being as precious as the princess with the pea. Hell, had everyone else lost sensation in their arses? Regardless, after dozing off from exhaustion, he woke early. Far too early and bone tired. After a well-needed trip to the en suite to relieve himself, and one glance at the apricot monstrosity, he resigned himself to wakefulness.

This had been providential — serendipitous in fact. He had been standing on the porch, indulging in a strong black coffee and a cigarette, when the commotion occurred.

Khai, Savannah and a few others stumbled back, eyes black from something illicit and reeking of hard liquor. He heard the carry on — well, at least half of the exchange — then the cad stormed off.

Jacqui, bless her heart, became an unexpected ally, filling him in on the blanks, helping him to plan, and — to his horror — pulling back the shower curtain after Nadia's premature departure, shouting at him to get moving while he frantically cupped his hands between his legs.

His hair was still dripping, he wore no socks, and a blob of conditioner was drying on the back of his neck, but, thankfully, everything had been paid, packed and readied before his ill-fated shower.

Thomas rounded a corner and spotted her, not twenty metres away, heading in the direction of Parque Central. He breathed out a sigh of relief and released a small portion of pent-up anxiety before he measured his stride to a brisk walk, hoping to appear casual in his approach.

The morning sun shone through trees, painting delicate patterns, intricate as lace, across the pavement. Fresh dew and overflowing trash cans perfumed the air. Above, birds sang their morning chorus from a tall fence as they danced between the shards of glass embedded atop it.

A car backed out of a gate, blocking him. Damn it!

He bounced on his feet as he waited for it to pass. It did, with infuriatingly slow speed, tyres creaking and exhaust pipe spluttering.

Thomas pulled up his sleeve and pointedly checked his Rolex. Not that it made a difference — if anything, it increased his sense of urgency.

The driver, an elderly gentleman, turned his head to squint at him out of rheumy eyes, smiled, came to a halt and unwound his window. "Bienvenido a Peru!"

Oh, come on! Thomas smiled back politely, waved and bounced harder, twiddling his signet ring with the tip of his thumb. The man reversed a fraction more, taking exceptional care to check his surroundings. Thomas peeked around the car to make sure Nadia was still visible. She was — just. He pinched the bridge of his nose and combed his hair. Breathe, Waterhouse. Relax.

The car moved on. Thomas bounded through the gap, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand as he fixed upon the slinking black shape.

He drew closer. Ten meters. Seven. He slowed. His heartbeat quickened, and he started to sweat. If Nadia realised what he had done, she might be furious — or worse, scared. Was he, heaven forbid, a stalker?

Oh God, I don't know if I can do this. Please don't be angry at me.

He stepped around a woman carrying a bin to the street.

One metre.

"Hey!" he called out casually, tucking his thumbs into the straps of his bag as he hiked it up, and pulled in next to her. She stopped, turned and brought her gaze up to him with an unreadable expression, her puffy grey eyes rimmed with red.

"Oh ... hi." She sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand against her nose. "Umm ... what are you doing here?" Her shoulders slumped as she studied her shuffling feet.

A metal lid clattered down the street, accompanied by the sound of rattling bottles. They both turned, momentarily distracted.

"I — er — I — that is —" Thomas fumbled. He shrugged. "I, well, I'm leaving Lima."

"Oh ... cool."

A dog barked, and a garbage truck moved along the street in halting grunts.

"So, umm, where are you going?"

"Oh ..." He paused, praying Jacqui's intelligence was correct. "Ah ... to Cusco, actually."

"Really?"

"Er ... yeah."

After a time, she gazed up. "How are you getting there?" The bright and carefree tone of her voice sounded forced. Thomas' hand itched to stroke her face.

A car sped past, and a young man stuck his head out the window calling out in Spanish. Nadia flinched, then resumed her walk.

Thomas matched his steps to hers. "I — uh — er ... I am not quite sure yet."

A pregnant silence filled the air between them. He brushed away a fly but missed and repeated the motion several times as the pest heckled him. The sound of traffic grew. A minute stretched out into two.

"How are you getting there?"

She stopped. "How did you know I am going to Cusco?"

Bollocks! His face grew hot. "Er ... Jacqui mentioned it."

She leaned forward, holding his eyes as he fidgeted. "Why would she tell you that?"

"Er ..."

Thin, brown brows lifted.

Thomas trudged through cognitive mud, straining to pull anything from his mouth. "I, uh ... I helped you home last night."

She pulled back. "It was your bed?" She shook her head. "No wonder he's so pissed. Stupid, stupid!"

"Nadia?"

But she continued her ruminations, oblivious to the world around her as she paced back and forth, muttering to herself.

"Nadia ... Nadia!"

She stopped and faced him. "You're the knight in shining armour."

"Huh?"

Her eyes seemed to focus on something within until the pupils constricted into tiny points. "Did you pay for my room?"

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps? You did, or you did not. Which one is it, Thomas?"

He pulled himself upright. "I did. I −"

"Thought it was okay to just impose yourself on me," she finished for him. "Have you any idea how this makes me look?" Her arms began to move about in wild gesticulations. "Have you?" She grabbed at some shrubbery. "I mean, first he finds us drinking together, then I —" She coughed, ripping at the foliage. "I sleep in your bed." She held up her index finger, warning him to keep quiet, and tossed the small pieces of greenery to the ground. "You pay my bill and follow me." She rested against the fence and propped her face on her hands.

Thomas stared at her, heart in his stomach. He'd no idea what to say or what to do.

"Why?"

He gulped and decided honesty was the best policy. "I like you." You intrigue me. "And you needed help." So, do I. "I ... ahem, need — would like someone to show me the ropes of how to get around this place."

She assessed him, incredulity on her face. "Look, Thomas, I don't think backpacking is for people like you, and I'm not a —"

"What do you mean people like me?"

She crossed her arms. "Rich, judgemental hoity-toity prigs who have everything in life served to them on a platter and think they can go about buying whoever, or whatever, they want."

He scoffed. "Hoity-toity? Now you're the one being a judgemental —"

"And I'm not a tour guide." She pointed in the direction of the town centre. "I am sure an agent can organise a fancy tour for you."

Thomas took a deep breath, willing calm. She was so infuriating. He'd chosen the hostel to surround himself with down-to-earth and openminded people. Perhaps he had been mistaken. Still, something about her fascinated him, even if he couldn't entirely put his finger on it. Clearly, she was still drunk, sleep deprived, and broken-hearted. Perhaps she needed someone who could absorb some verbal blows without pushing her away. He could do that.

"I've done luxury tours. They don't suit."

Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she tapped a foot, glaring at him.

"It seems to me that you could do with some company yourself. It can't be safe for an attractive young woman to be alone here. Haven't you read the travel warnings?"

She gestured at a couple walking down the street. "I'm not exactly alone. It's an overcrowded world."

"You know what I mean."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Jacqui told me a woman in a taxi had her finger cut off last month because her ring would not slide off."

He saw her blanch, realised he had hit his target, and pressed his advantage further. "That's just one of the stories I've heard. I could protect you."

Seeing her eyebrows raise, he changed tack. "Ah, I mean together we will be safer. Think about it. If you need to go to the necessary, I can mind your bag, and vice-versa. It makes sense." He smiled to lighten the mood. "I mean, I hardly need to steal your money or passport."

She smiled back, and her shoulders relaxed. She looked like she could curl up on the footpath and sleep right there.

Just one more tiny prod. "And I will follow your lead, no negotiation required. Scouts honour."

"Fine!" She threw up her hands and marched towards Parque Central.

Thomas grinned like a kid on the way to the ice cream store, adjusted his pack and followed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bienvenido a Peru! — Welcome to Peru!