Home, Keely thought. She had a sudden idea that her parents would be worried about her but then she remembered ringing them on her mobile when she’d arrived at the hostel. If she rang them now she’d be teary, they’d get upset and they’d want to get on a plane and come over and her holiday would be ended before it had begun.

Perhaps she could go back to the hostel but it conjured a lonely picture. There was no one who knew she existed now that Marty was gone. She didn’t even have her wallet or her phone.

She took another sip of her drink then gripped the glass tightly, angry at the position she found herself in. She’d lost everything on the first night of her holiday. Then she heard her mother’s words – ‘put your card and some money in your backpack’. Keely looked around. The backpack was no longer on her bed. She tried to sit up and reach the cupboard but a jolt of pain made her gasp. She eased back against the pillows.

“Take it easy.” The nurse was by her side again, lifting the sheet and checking her stomach. “I know a laparoscopic surgery doesn’t look much from the outside but you have had your appendix removed. Use the spare pillow to press against your stomach when you move or cough. The pain relief from the op will be wearing off but you’re due for some oral meds. You’re going to be tender for a while yet.”

The woman finished her observations then watched Keely swallow two white tablets.

“Can you pass me my backpack, please?” Keely croaked.

“You’re not going anywhere just yet.”

“No, I want to get something.”

The nurse handed it over. Someone had put her clothes inside. She pulled out her jeans and shoved her hand inside the pack. Her fingers searched for the tiny hidden pocket and the reassuring lump inside. The money and credit card were still there. Keely had an image of her mother’s smug face then she relaxed and slept again.

When she woke next, it was early evening. The drip had gone from her arm and amazingly she felt a touch of hunger. She’d hardly eaten a thing since she’d left home.

The backpack was propped against the cupboard with her jeans neatly folded on top. She looked at them for a few moments while her brain struggled from the fudge of sleep. She needed a plan. Her bag was gone. It had contained her phone and her wallet, which meant everything she needed from bank cards to driver’s licence was gone, but she wasn’t destitute. She had a physical bank card and a hundred dollars in her backpack. She needed a place to stay while she recuperated and organised replacements.