Why do I do this?’ Evie muttered under her breath as she lugged a heavy suitcase down the flight of narrow stairs to her car.
‘Wanna hand, love?’ asked the friendly B&B owner.
Sometimes Evie would stop for a coffee and a chat, but she had only just started her working day and needed to get on.
‘It’s OK. I’ve got both bags now thanks. Goodness knows what’s in this one though! Bye – see you soon.’
‘Cheerio.’
An immaculate designer suitcase and a shabby grip bag now sat in the boot of her car along with a battered guitar and scruffy bag owned by ‘Hippy guy’.
She had nicknames for all her clients. The owner of the unlikely designer suitcase was ‘Fashionista’. She rarely met these people, as they walked around the Cornish Coastal Path. They had usually set off walking before she arrived at their B&B. She simply transported their luggage from one B&B to the next.
It was a good system, and Evie enjoyed being part of it. She loved driving, especially in the
