Destination India Read Online Free PDF Page A

village teaching English to adorable children, drinking cold sangria outside on heady evenings, longing for the neighbour of the homestay she was staying in to notice her.
    ‘Juan.’ She smiled. ‘Funny how the neighbour seems to have such an impact on my life.’ Well at least she could see the ironic side. It was the first time in the twenty minutes since she’d been sitting opposite me that she’d smiled, the worry lines on her pale thin face receding as she was instantly taken back to her youth. ‘I saw an advert about the tours you organise, with people like me I guess, and just hoped you would have something for me?’ She looked so lost I wanted to give her a hug, but I noticed the guytalking to Kelli kept staring over at us – breaking the intimate moment with a strange cold glance.
    I nodded and patted her hand. ‘We will do our best to get you back to that happy young woman. I’m positive about that.’
    I started to tap on my keyboard, looking for tours that would suit her. We had had an amazing success rate of matching people with countries and challenges that seemed to pull them out of their comfort zone and fix them back together again. The wall of the office behind me was tacked with so many thank-you cards and postcards from other customers who had once been sitting in the exact same chair as her. This was why I loved my job. The satisfaction from helping people get back on their feet was immeasurable – so what if it meant other things in my life may have been slipping?
    Not long later, Nice-Nails Lady was booked to go to Barcelona, looking to reignite her Spanish youth. She would be in a small group dusting off her language skills, joining fun nights out and soaking up the architecture all around her. She left the shop clutching the information to her bony chest, beaming. I couldn’t help but smile too.
    I noticed that the strange man Kelli had been talking to had also left. ‘What was he after?’ I asked her, picking up shreds of tissue from the floor.
    Kelli shrugged. ‘Was a right weirdo. I asked him what he was looking for but all he was bothered about were boring facts about the business.’ She popped a piece of gum in her mouth and chewed it loudly.
    ‘Did you speak to him like how we told you?’ I shuddered thinking back to when we’d first hired her, a favour to Trisha who was friends with Kelli’s aunt. A few weeks after she’d started, a new customer had walked in, someone in a similar position to the lady I’d just helped:red ringed eyes and chapped nose from the constant wiping of tears and snot. Ben and I were both on the phone at the time so Kelli had bounded over to her, thrusting our brochures into this poor woman’s sad face. She had started crying almost immediately seeing the faded band T-shirt that Kelli was wearing and explained mid-sobs how her ex loved that band. Instead of consoling her, offering her a cup of tea and a seat in a comfy chair, Kelli burst out laughing, exclaiming that she wore that T-shirt ironically as their music was utter shite. A true believer in tough love was our Kelli; let’s just say the client made a quick exit and never returned.
    She always used to rock up late with pillow creases down her pale cheeks and no apology, she never wore suitable clothes and barely brushed her hair but Ben was adamant we keep her on to please her aunt and said that with a little encouragement she would blossom. He was right. Ben had spent a lot of time patiently explaining to Kelli how she needed to listen to the customers before judging them on the music their ex liked or chucking our tours down their throats. Some customers were just not ready to go off and explore the world; they were still grieving their relationship and not yet ready to turn the page and start a new life.
    Kelli’s hunched-up shoulders had gradually softened, her timekeeping had improved and that sulky teen attitude that she’d had when she first walked in here had evolved into a sort