Borgo 5. Start of a friendship

The May sun bore down heavily on Sarah as she waited for the number 4 bus. She squinted at the steam rising from the hot tarmac below the Portes des Bombes and resolved to buy a better pair of sunglasses. Thankfully, the dusty orange vehicle arrived before she herself evaporated. Sarah handed the fare over to the driver and scurried to the only vacant seat, next to a fat middle-aged woman who nodded and smiled at her. Sarah held on tight to the seat in front of her as the bus sped towards Birgu. A mix of Maltese and Africans crowded the bus with loud conversation. The whole bus seemed to confabulate, a cheery exchange, yet Sarah could not help noticing that the two did not mingle.

When they approached Marsa, the woman beside her grabbed her large purse, stood up and pulled at the suspended grimy string. The bicycle bell at the front of the bus rang and the driver pulled the break at the last minute. Passengers lurched forward and back against their seat. Most of the Africans got off the bus at the same stop as the woman.

“It’s Sarah, isn’t it?” It was the waiter from the Waterfront restaurant. He collapsed on the sweaty seat.

“Hi! Sorry, don’t recall your name.” Sarah replied, cringing.

“Haven’t seen you at the restaurant since. Did the British lady find my tea making skills wanting?” Mark smiled cheekily.

“No, it was the calorie filled sweet you sold me I’d rather not be tempted with again”

“A moment on the lips…” Mark teased.

Sarah noticed he was wearing fitting trousers and waistcoat over a freshly ironed white shirt.

“Are you on your way to work?”

“Somebody has got to earn a living.”

“That’s one reason I got married”, joked Sarah, instantly regretting having pointed out her status so early on in the conversation.

“Is he back in the UK? Why don’t you tag along?”

Sarah thought Mark had just ignored her disclosure, the cheeky monkey.

“I can brew a fabulous coffee. Better than my tea - a proper kafe Malti” Mark insisted.

“A no strings attached coffee?”

“As long as you don’t grow a moustache, there’s no need for you to worry, my dear Dorothy!”

The story so far