Free Charlotte and the Starlet 2 by Dave Warner Page B

and Todd could find Bevans. Even if they
did, there was no guarantee he could help. According
to Fiona, Bevans lived in a small cottage on the outskirts
of the nearby town of Grenfell. Unfortunately
there was no Bevans listed in the phone book so she
hadn't been able to call him. The trip to Grenfell took
around twenty minutes. It wasn't a big town – in fact,
there was just one main street that stretched for a few
hundred metres with some smaller cross streets
running from it. The first premises seen from the bus
was a large open lot that appeared to offer tractors and
other farm machinery for sale. A pretty stone church
followed, then a row of picturesque cottages. The bus
passed two hotels and slowed as it reached the town
hub, a strip of small shops. It finally chugged to a halt
in front of the bakery, where Charlotte was relieved
to see Todd waiting for her, waving as he tucked into
a bread roll.
    'Bought you one too.' He handed her the paper bag
as she stepped from the bus.
    'Thanks but I'm too nervous to eat.'
    'Bevans might like it,' said Todd optimistically.
That was something Charlotte liked about Todd. He
was always positive. Todd had cadged a lift into town
from the Milthorp blacksmith and he had pointed
out Bevans' cottage as one of those in the row the bus
had passed on the way into town. Todd was able to
lead Charlotte to the neat stone cottage with a small
but very colourful and well tended front garden.
They passed through an ornate iron gate and headed
up a narrow path to a low cement verandah festooned
with hanging plants that had little purple flowers
exploding all over them. The only furniture on offer
was an old wicker chair and small bamboo table.
It was the sort of place one could sit in the afternoon
shade watching the to-ing and fro-ing along the
main street. A bronze nameplate above the door
announced the house's name: Hastings. Charlotte
could see no bell but there was a large, iron knocker.
She picked up the knocker and let it rap against the
door. It made her sound much more confident than
she truly felt. There was a shuffling inside and the
door opened on a tall woman in a bright patchwork
dress. A helmet of dark red hair surrounded a bright,
chirpy face. Charlotte guessed she might be about
fifty. The woman looked enquiringly from Charlotte
to Todd.
    'Who are you collecting for – Scouts and Girl
Guides?'
    It hadn't occurred to Charlotte that Bevans would
not answer the door himself, and the thought of a
Mrs Bevans had never entered her head. While she
was still trying to process this and find an answer
to the unexpected question, Todd spoke.
    'Is Bevans in? We're from the JOES.'
    'Oh. Yes, he's out the back.'
    She stepped back to allow them into a narrow, dark
passageway decorated with photos of equestrian
horses. Charlotte caught a glimpse of a much younger
Bevans in one of them, standing beside a young
woman who had just won a ribbon.
    The red-headed woman led them through a small,
neat parlour inhabited by a sofa and armchair with
wide armrests. It was dark in here but cool, the sort of
room that hot Australian summers required before airconditioning
became a way of life. By the look of it,
this house was built a long time before that.
    Mrs Bevans opened a flyscreen door at the back and
ushered them through. After the darkness inside, the
sun was almost painfully bright. They stepped into a
small courtyard of concrete paving squares. Pots of
plants hung everywhere. Flower beds were under the
cottage's rear windows. It smelled wonderful.
    'Wilfred, some people to see you.'
    Wilfred? That must have been Bevans' first name.
Charlotte had never thought about him having a first
name before. In fact she'd never really spoken much
to Bevans at all. Nobody at Thornton Downs had,
apart from a hello and goodnight and a little bit about
the weather and which paddocks were mown. It was
beginning to dawn on Charlotte that coming here may
have been a very foolish exercise.
    Bevans appeared from behind