The First Week Read Online Free PDF Page B

coat around her. Should she have borrowed a smarter jacket from Michelle?
    Michelle. She shouldn’t have lost her temper. But the thought was soon gone, whipped away by the gritty wind.
    The address of the court was in her pocket. Somewhere on the Terrace, opposite Government House. There were more arcades than she remembered, but she managed to thread her way through from Forrest Place and emerge into a chasm between towering office blocks. St Georges Terrace. Wasn’t it? So she should turn left, to the east. But suddenly she wasn’t sure.
    She stepped towards a man who was hurrying past.
    â€˜Excuse me …’
    But her voice was drowned out by a bus and the man hurried on, briefcase held in front of him like an ice-breaker.
    Huddled in the shelter of a building were two young Asian tourists studying a map, not the sort of people Marian would normally talk to.
    But they did have a map.
    â€˜Excuse me.’ She spoke slowly and loudly. ‘Do you know where Government House is?’
    They made helpless gestures of non-comprehension.
    Well of course. They came over here and they couldn’t even speak English.
    Marian pointed at the map and raised her eyebrows. ‘Can I?’
    â€˜Yes,’ they said eagerly. ‘Yes please.’ The young man handed her the map.
    By rotating it she could orient herself with the station and Forrest Place. Yes. Government House was along to the left, across Barrack Street.
    â€˜Thank you very much,’ she said handing the map back. But she saw from the confusion on their faces that they hadn’t understood. They had thought that she was going to help them .
    Damn. She didn’t have time to get caught up with these two. They should have a tour guide or something. Or they could get a taxi. They must have plenty of money.
    She moved away, but the young woman held up her hand and spoke. ‘Please. Where is Rottnest?’ The skin around her eyes was creased with the effort of finding the words. ‘Boat. Rottnest boat.’
    For goodness sake. Why would you go to Rottnest in the middle of winter? Marian looked at the sky. What a terrible day for a boat trip.
    But here they were, looking at her as though she was their only hope.
    â€˜The ferry. You mean the ferry for Rottnest?’
    The young woman smiled. ‘Yes. Rottnest.’
    Marian took the map again. ‘It used to leave from the bottom of Barrack Street. Yes, here it is.’ She handed the map back with her finger on the jetties. The young man took the map, but he was looking at her, not at the mark on the paper.
    â€˜Oh come on. I’ll show you. Along here’
    Together they walked to Barrack Street and Marian pointed them down the hill. The young couple smiled sweetly and gave little bows, smiled again, and set off into the wind.
    Marian had been picturing courts in movies, old stone buildings and wood panelling. But it turned out to be another towering office block. Three men in black leather jackets and dark glasses blocked the entrance, smoking and showing no sign of noticing Marian.
    Bikies. It was only bluster.
    When she walked around them the doors of the building opened automatically.
    Two security guards stood at a table to one side. The larger of the two hitched his belt and stepped forward. Marian clasped her bag. Somehow they had recognised her.
    â€˜Just check your bag thanks, madam.’
    â€˜Oh. Of course.’ She loosened her grip and handed it over. The guard opened it on the table and inserted one large hand, pushing into all the corners. Apparently satisfied, he withdrew his hand, snapped the bag shut and handed it to her.
    Marian stood hesitating. ‘Is that all?’
    He stared at her. ‘Lifts are over there.’
    â€˜Oh. Thank you.’
    The sign beside the lifts was blurred and unreadable. Marian reached into her bag for her glasses, but couldn’t feel them. She stood on one leg to balance the bag on her knee and fumbled