Back in her room, she peeked into the en suite she shared with the room next door. It was empty so she stripped off, piled her thick hair on top of her head and let the warm water wash over her achy body. She felt strange, a little queasy, not quite right; probably just the shock of actually being here after all of the planning. It was hard to believe she’d really done it. Her travels had begun. Excitement fluttered in her belly along with the occasional jab of pain.

After the shower she lay on her bed, breathing slowly and willing herself to calm down. She wished now that she hadn’t agreed to go with Marty and his mates. It would have been better to veg out in her room and acclimatise to this newly found freedom.

Keely had always lived at home. After she’d left school she’d gone straight to university. Living at home had been the only choice. She had a part-time job but it would have been a real struggle to maintain a flat. Once she went teaching, the jobs were always contracts. She never knew from one year to the next where she’d be, so her mother had encouraged her to stay at home. Here she was, twenty-seven years old, and, apart from one term’s contract at a country school, she’d never lived away from home.

She pushed herself off the bed, put on jeans and a fresh top and pulled a quirky face at her reflection in the mirror. “You need some excitement in your life, Keely.”

The niggling pain grabbed her again. She grimaced into the mirror, applied some lipstick, brushed out the hair that her mother always wanted her to wear up and strapped on the neat little over-shoulder purse that her mother had said wouldn’t be big enough. It held her wallet and phone, which was all she’d need tonight.

Once more she glanced at her reflection, drew back her shoulders and stepped out the door to meet Marty and his mates.

* * *

“It’s nice to know you are still with us, Euan. Let’s drink to that, shall we?”

Euan watched his sister raise her glass, her piercing gaze not leaving his as she took a sip of the late-harvest riesling. Not one of his own wines, of course, but this one came from an old friend’s long-established Margaret River winery.

“Mmmm.” He let the flavours roll around his palette. “Rich and tropical with a hint of honeysuckle. Just perfect for you, Maggie.”