Mike Dixon

evealed a figure that still retained some youthful features
despite its weather-beaten appearance.
He had heard the story of her life. How she and Daryl had
lost their savings in a crooked partnership and how they
were trying to fight their way back with Daryl‟s latest venture
– crocodile farming.
As far as David could make out, the crocs weren‟t living
up to expectations and Daryl was supplementing their income
by other means. These included the provision of a
place of refuge for lost souls like himself. He was clearly her
most exciting refugee to date.
„You‟ve got bubbles under your arm.‟
He turned his back on her and poked his arms in the air,
coming close to scalding himself as his hand touched the
bucket. He wondered why no one had fitted a holding tank to
give the water a chance to cool down.
„You‟ve still got bubbles under your arm.‟
David ignored her. He‟d done enough to spice Noelene‟s
dull existence for one day. He thanked her for the shampoo,
wrapped a towel around his waist, returned the hat to his
head and made for his room.
ive minutes later he was back outside fully dressed.
F He‟d got no more than a glimpse of the place when
he arrived and was keen to learn more about it. His main
quest was the farm‟s communications system. It had to have
one. Noelene and Daryl knew he was coming. But there were
no telephone lines and Noelene had complained that the mo-
bile network didn‟t reach them.
He couldn‟t see her but knew she was following his every
move: no doubt out of lust rather than suspicion but that did
not make him any less cautious. He turned his back and
made his way towards some pens Daryl had constructed for
baby crocodiles.
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