The Call of Camelot

Chapter 3 - The Resident Redhead

The hotel that I was to call home for the summer was exactly what I had expected it to be. Caught very much in the midst of the 20th century with a 1950's white washed exterior and an interior decorated with the type of patterned wallpaper typical of the 1990's with a carpet flattened and frayed from decades of visitors.

My room was the same as the rest of the hotel, worn and tired, with wallpaper peeling from around light switches and plug sockets, but clean and tidy with that familiar musty smell of age mixed with modern washing detergent.  I'll admit it's not the Ritz, but seeing as I wasn't paying to stay here (apparently that was Ambrose!) the accommodation could have been much worse.

I went through the usual routine that everyone does when first seeing their hotel room, checking out the cleanliness of the bathroom, figuring out the shower and lying on the bed to assess its level of comfort, all of which passed inspection.

Ambrose had told me when checking in that a meet and greet would soon be underway where everyone on the dig would have a chance to mingle and introduce themselves. After I unpacked, I showered and rifled through my clothes for something to wear.

I didn't want to appear too casual nor too formal, so I settled on one of my favourite summer dresses, an acceptably elegant navy blue floral skater dress that pulled me in at the waist to show my curves and had a sweetheart neckline to sophistically accentuate my favourite assets.

I tamed my wavy red hair with my straighteners which turned me from less warrior of the amazon to more Greek goddess seductively lying on the shore,  applied a little bit of makeup and made my way down to the dining room.

The room was a hive of noise and activity, there must be more than 100 people working on the dig all  crammed into the tiny room. The atmosphere was a mess of talking over one another while others laughed far too excessively whilst waving to people on the other side of the room clutching glasses of wine and beer.

For a moment I was relieved to see Ambrose, who'd also changed from the casual outfit he'd been wearing on the train to very smart grey suit and pale blue shirt. I decided against going over and saying hello to the boss in favour of helping myself to the complimentary wine glasses on the table by the door.

Taking my first sip I glanced at all the new faces round the room, suddenly feeling very awkward and out of place.  I decided to walk casually between groups of people hoping to catch onto a conversation I could subtly work my way into but it seemed that most people on the dig already knew each other and were talking more personally than generally.

Thankfully though I wasn't alone for long and I was relieved to catch the eye of an equally awkward looking young man who was obviously trying to do the same thing as I, failing as epically as I was.

He smiled at me first, to which I returned a smile. The universally acknowledged signal of "yes, come to talk to me!".   He made his way through the few groups of people between us and eagerly stuck out his hand to shake mine.

"Hi! I'm Niall" he greeted.

Niall was very cute, he couldn't have been older than 18 or 19 and had the kind of good looks of someone in a young boyband, you know the type - a boy on the verge of adulthood with flawless peachy skin and eyes that looked adorably too big for their face.

"Cara" I replied, shaking his hand... Ew, sweaty palms!

"Nice to meet you Cara, so what is it you're doing here this summer?"he quickly fired.

"I'm one of the volunteers!" I shot back.

"Oh me too!" exclaimed Niall excitedly, his cute boyband face lighting up.