SARAH lay in bed staring at the ceiling, making patterns with the cracks, her imagination creating a host of pictures. It was late, but she didn’t care. She could hear Lewis downstairs, lugging bits of furniture around, grunting, groaning, sometimes singing tunelessly. She envied his positive outlook. For her, the initial thrill of the arrival was soon replaced by anxiety. They’d taken on too much, she knew it.
Rolling over, she gazed out of the window. Another beautiful day. Against the advice of close friends, she had agreed to come here, doing her best to support her husband. Lewis was a good man. Weak, ineffective in so many ways, he nevertheless wanted to make them a good life, and he believed the hotel would give them that. But they had to make it work. Already Sarah had witnessed f
