They sat outside on the terrace in the sun, plates piled high with the full English breakfast he'd hinted that she'd make and pots of tea (her) and coffee (him).

'The amount of feral cats on the streets of Baghdad is insane. They go around in gangs and claim cars on the pavements. I remember a bunch of them crowding around this BMW like they were figuring out how to break in and go for a joy ride.'

He spluttered with laughter at the thought of a cat gang let loose in the streets of Bagdad.

'They all stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at me so they could track me down the street. I like to think they made a quick getaway soon after.'

He sipped his coffee, never taking his eyes off of her. He liked listening to her stories, she gave a different perspective. While they both tended to journey alone, he did have a habit of going off the beaten track to be guided by locals where Rosie preferred the busy cities, local spots and countryside ventures. He wouldn't mind exploring those a bit more. They shared the camel rides in the desert and the bustling cities of India to talk about and she'd even been to places he hadn't; a sex show in Amsterdam, hiking nearby the fjords in Norway, a day's stopover in Dubai and a few Eastern European villages. The thought of asking her to show him some of these places flared an excitement in him he hadn't felt before. He squashed it with common sense. After the wedding they would return back to their normal lives and that would be that. He'd never needed or wanted a constant travel partner and he didn't see what had changed.

'I'm glad I don't have a BMW' he remarked.

'You don't even have a car.'

He glanced at her playfully.

'So I've got nothing for the cats to steal.'

She returned the smile, took the last piece of bacon.

'Do you miss your home town?'

He thought about it. It had been a long time since he'd set foot there. His mother who was the reason for him coming here in the first place had died not long after that trip and he'd visited that dusty childhood street very rarely since.

'Not really. It's all in the past. Great for when you're a kid but not a place I wanted to stay in once I started travelling. There wasn't much to do. I do remember coming back from a night out with the lads though, blind drunk. We ruined my next door neighbours flower patch. I woke up the next day to hear that she'd been screaming about hooligans that had thrown up on her prize geraniums. She never shut up about it. So I never told her.'

They laughed at the thought of Mrs McGinty's indignation every time she related the story at a neighbourhood gathering.

'I have been known to do some truly stupid things when I'm drunk' mentioned Rosie.

Bill perked up at that.

'When was the last time you got drunk?'

'Aside from last night? I didn't do anything disgraceful last night. What a waste of alcohol. Ha. That'll probably be at Christmas. I graffiti-d some guys car with spray paint.'

Bill was a bit shocked at the idea.

'Why would you do that?'

'He was one of my colleagues ex boyfriends. He broke up with her and wrecked her flat. So we got drunk and wrecked his car.'

Bill thought it over.

'Sounds fair' he shrugged.

'Tanya would have thought up a nasty revenge for him. Shame she wasn't there. She was on top form last night though. '

'What did she do last night?'

She smirked. 'Well, the bartender for a start.'

He spat out his mouthful of coffee at the way she'd phrased it. Apologising, he took a cloth and cleaned the table while sharing the joke with her. He wasn't used to this kind of vulgarity in a woman and rather enjoyed it.

'Some things you just can't unsee' she declared.

'It sounds like quite a job you've got there. Making sure she gets home in one piece, tucking her up in bed with a hot young guy, or a rich older one.'

'Or both.'

That confused him.

'One guy who fits the brief or several guys who have a different quality?'

'Well a guy who fits a pair of briefs is a good start. Or boxers, she's not fussy.' Rosie laughed. 'Depends on who she meets. You never know who you'll find. I shared a flat with her for a couple of years, before she married her first husband. She had all sorts of men coming and going, house parties, the usual.'

'Did you get together with any of them?' He asked curiously.

'Sometimes. Sometimes there's a guy left and if you've interacted during the evening and you like each other enough, why not?'

Why not indeed? He'd done that from time to time.

'He'd leave the next morning anyway which was handy if I needed to chuck out Tanya's bloke as well for her. That kind of thing, you know.'

He thought about it. He didn't really know about it, he was too eager to get out of his town and start exploring the world and as a result had bypassed a lot of the usual things other people were expected to do. He told her so.

'You never wanted to go down the conventional route did you?'

'I wasn't thinking about that when I started. It just turned out that way.'

She nodded in agreement.

'You carry on the same path and never really think about it until years later when someone draws attention to it. I haven't felt the need to regret the way I live. My colleagues think I should. But I'm happy with my lot.'

'Not enough people are content with their lives. I think we're in a pretty good place' he told her. She agreed. They sat in comfortable silence, watching the waves break on the shore on the horizon.