Neylah was among the many residents of Montero who felt proud to admit that, not once in her life, had she left the small, comely island.
Her home stoically welcomed the tides and all who came with them with patch-worked brick and stone. It was an old building that had seen so many refurbishments and additions that walking through its halls was like stepping through a timeline. Despite this, it was undeniably cosy with carpets on every floor and a fireplace in every wall; made to be an inn and an inn it was.
The plentiful success of the inn was helped greatly by the island it stood on; Montero was famous for leagues around for its hospitality, so famous that most buildings on the island were either for guests to stay in or for the pleasure of guests already there.
In turn, most of what Neylah did during her day was for ‘the pleasure of guests’ – hence why she was currently trying to mend a broken toilet in one of the rooms; it wasn’t a smell anyone would find pleasant…
“Mum, this just isn’t working, we need to get a plumper because frankly I have no idea what’s wrong with that loo” She despaired while washing off the layer of grime and muck that coated her forearms in the kitchen sink
Her mother released a long sigh, wrinkling her otherwise smooth face into a frown. In spite of being into her forties the woman bore few traces of her age; she had no lines around her eyes nor did her mouth, the only signs she had aged were a few gray strands in her chestnut locks and slightly hollow looking cheeks. Any age the woman lacked in appearance she made up for in mentality; world-weary and shrewd but deeply maternal underneath.
“S’pose we have to don’t we? Not like we have time to deal with it anyway, what with everything going on next week”