Allure

Chapter Three

With a bounce in my step that I'd long since forgotten I had, I walked down the stairs and to the communal kitchens. I opened a cupboard door and pulled out a can of spaghetti. It was nothing at all like the pasta I'd had during my many summer vacations to Italy as a kid, but there was something about it all the same.

Humming to myself, I brought the food to a boil and then sat down to eat it. I'd only been at this hostel for two days so far, having just arrived in town, but was really loving the friendly atmosphere. I sat down at a table next to the hostel noticeboard. I looked up and read some of the notes as I was eating. Some were funny – typical Australian jokes meant to give us backpackers a taste of the local humour, others were downright cute, like the massive tacky poster promoting free hugs day, but the majority were useful. For Sale – Toyota Corolla, only $2450. Bus time table from Wilson Creek to Perth. Fruit Pickers Wanted - $12 per hour.

That last notice caught my eye. I hadn't been able to find any decent work for a while and my funds were getting a bit low. While $12 an hour wasn't much, and fruit picking wasn't very glamorous, any extra money would certainly help.

I looked closer at the notice. There was no cell phone number. Strange. In small handwriting at the bottom it said – See Nan Berkeley if interested. But how can I see this Nan Berkeley if I don't know how to find her? C'est bizarre.

Just then I saw the hostel manager walk past. He went into the kitchens and started taking the labels off any old food that people had left after they had moved on.

"Excuse me, Charles." I said, tapping him on the shoulder. I still hadn't figured out how to say his name properly. Whenever I said it, it came out like Sharl. Blame my stupid French tongue.

"Yaha?" He said, turning to face me. I pointed to the notice board.

"Fruit Pickers Wanted? Who is this Nan Berkeley?" Charles grinned when he heard the name.

"Ah yes, Nan. If you're wanting a job she'll get you one. She lives just around the corner actually." He look around for a piece of paper. "Here I'll write you directions."

Charles' pen scratched on the cardboard of an old muesli box. "Now, what's the time?" He looked at his watch. "Yeah, it's only half past nine. You can count on Nan to still be up and about."

Within minutes I was out of the door and squinting at the directions Charles had given me.

Although it was 9:30 it was a clear night and the stars were so bright they seemed only just outside of Earth's atmosphere. The heat from the day still lingered. I wasn't even wearing a jacket and I wasn't cold. No cars seemed to be on the road and the big city lights of Perth were barely a spec in the distance. What a night to be alive.

Within minutes I'd found my bearings and had reached the end of the directions Charles had given me. I looked up. It was a dainty little house. Little rose bushes decorated the front lawn and a pebbled driveway led up to a decked veranda. Even the grass was fairly green, considering the summer.

I walked down the driveway, my jandals crunching on the stones. I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. Immediately, the door swung open.

My eyes met with a pair that were a fierce yellow green, decorated with wrinkles and smiles. My mind immediately flashed back to earlier today. It was Nan. The lady who had spat on the ground. The only one who had dared acknowledge the presence of this five burly guys.