I opened my eyes to see her backing away from me, her hand over her mouth. I tried to speak, but my mouth couldn’t form words. Her eyes watered. ‘...…I’ll get my things,’ she said, as she turned and ran into the house. I reached out, knowing I had fucked up telling her. She moved too quickly. I couldn’t have handled it more poorly. I found her packing in the bedroom. She was crying so hard I didn’t know how she was moving at all. I was such a shit. I entered the room and watched for a moment,. The thought of living in that luxury villa for two years and escaping Bristol's suburbs was the great appeal.Zambia was all that was said of it, a lot more, and a lot worse.I had a rude awakening to African men before we left the airport when one of the luggage handlers casually fondled Paula's bottom in front of me. The arrogant bastard did not give a damn that I was standing beside. Paula froze in shock and I yelled at the African who just grinned and seemed bemused at my protest. He shrugged. More

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