‘Deal. Jim, Gerry, get those cases loaded on to the trolley,’ she barked at the men. ‘You, stay away from that, it’s valuable.’
Sonja smiled as she saw the porter shake his head and turn his back on the Americans. The pilot ushered them across the runway, at a trot to avoid a Cessna hurrying past to make its departure slot. On the edge of the taxiway a white pilot strained as he single-handedly pushed his aircraft up to a fuel bowser. Sonja wondered how many people were diced by propellers here each year.
The terminal had grown in her absence, as had much of the town, judging by the sprawl she’d seen from the air on approach. The building was now two storeys, brick, and bustling with people dressed in floppy safari hats and khaki ensembles. There was a menagerie of animal print scarves a
