Page 64 of To Hell With It

Is my key back in the shop?

Yep.

Thanks.

No problem. I take it you’ve landed?

Yes, I’m on the bus.

Safe trip.

Thanks, Niall.

There were twelve, by the way.

Twelve what?

Woodlice.

ChapterThirty-Six

Once the bus got to Auckland, it was like another world. The roads were so wide they didn’t look like roads; they looked like, well, I don’t know what they looked like – they were just really wide and calm. The pedestrian crossings made a funny bleeping sound that bleeped so loud and fast it sounded like an alarm. But still, the calmness remained and everyone took their time like they had all the time in the world. Nobody rushed to get across. They all looked so at ease, so relaxed, so OCD-free.

Sky Hostel wasn’t a skyscraper like I’d imagined but it was big. Una had said it was used by all the travellers and was closest to the bus stop, which was where I needed to be to get to Te Puke. I hadn’t thought about Jack once since I’d landed, probably because if I had I might have had a panic attack about what I was actually doing. I needed to get to the hostel, get clean, and then I’d think about him.

I walked straight through the automatic doors (another of Una’s selling points because I wouldn’t have to touch any handles) and was greeted at the reception desk by a young girl who looked around nineteen. Her hair was bright orange – not ginger like Una’s – and looked as though it might have been blue before that because I could see streaks of it at her roots. She had one of those bullrings in her nose and all I could think about was how unhygienic it must be, because surely it would catch her boogies and sneezes? And did she clean it? How did she clean it?

I gave her my name and she gave me a room card and told me about the nightclub next door that offered free entry and a cocktail to anyone staying at the hostel.

My room was on the fifth floor but I took the stairs because I am claustrophobic and there was no way I’d go in the lift. (It is the thought of the lift doors opening and being faced with a concrete wall outside. I can’t bear it.)

I had wondered if my OCD would travel to the other side of the world with me. Of course, I knew it would to some extent, like the hygiene side of things for example, that came with me everywhere. But the intrusive thoughts while trying to get from A to B, I wasn’t sure if they would tag along.

I found out that they did when I walked up five flights of stairs three times (luckily for me, not many people chose to take the stairs) and 468 steps later I was inside my room, number 556 (I would be fine), and wondering what the hell I was doing. It all hit me then. Jack, the surprise (the not an actual invite, invite), his declaration in his note, the sneezing hen, the man on the plane with the stinking shit, the shower, I needed a bloody shower.

I pulled off my clothes and dumped them in a pile on the floor before I’d even had a chance to look around my room – not that there was much of it, it was a box as far as I could see, with one window that overlooked the city below.

I sanitised and grabbed my wash bag – it was pre-packed for that very occasion, a gift to myself: my mini bottle of shampoo, a bar of soap, and mouthwash to give my insides a rinse. But where the bloody hell was the bathroom? I scanned the room naked, all four sides of it. There was my bed, freshly made, an empty single wardrobe, an ironing board and a kettle with one cup, some teabags, coffee sachets, and two milk sachets. But that was it; apart from a small basin and toilet that I thought was a cupboard until I opened the door. But there was no en suite, no shower.

I caught sight of a leaflet on the bed with Sky Hostel written on the front. I opened it up and started to read. There was a communal kitchen on the ground floor, an internet room, pool room, reading room, the free cocktail nightclub next door, aptly namedFall,which made me think of James Bond, even though I’d never watched any of the films (not my thing, sorry). And the shower rooms – yep – the shower rooms as incommunal– could be found on every floor.

A normal person might just grab their towel; wrap it around themselves and head to the shower, but not me. I couldn’t do that, could I? Because if I did that the towel would touch the back of my legs and although I’d been extra careful not to touch any public toilet seats while squatting over them, another part of my body might have touched something on the way out and I just wasn’t willing to question it. I just needed a shower.

So I got back into my dirty clothes, sanitised my hands, put a bag of fresh clothes together, with my towel and toiletries, and made my way out of my box room to find the shower room.

ChapterThirty-Seven

My bus to Te Puke wasn’t until the morning. I had a whole evening to fill because I couldn’t go to sleep even if I’d wanted to. I had no idea whether I was tired or not; wired maybe? Una had warned me about the jetlag so maybe it was that.

I didn’t fancy the communal kitchen, besides, I had nothing to cook, so once I’d got downstairs (it took me half an hour) I made my way to the orange-haired girl and asked her where the nearest place to eat was. She pointed me down the road to a café on the corner and I thanked her but she didn’t look up. She kept her head in a magazine full of celebrities I didn’t recognise.

September was nearly springtime in New Zealand, and I couldn’t quite get my head around that because back at home winter was looming. It wasn’t like spring in Ireland. The wind didn’t have the sting of winter in its tail. It was warm, like Ireland’s summer in a good year.

I could see the café from the hostel entrance, which was great because it meant I couldn’t get lost, I just had to walk in a straight line and keep my eyes on where I needed to be. It was much like walking to Una’s salon to meet her for lunch; only I didn’t need to worry about red cars.

At least, I didn’t think I did, until I saw three in a row and I couldn’t get the thought of Una dying out of my head. Would anyone tell me while I was away? Or would they wait for me to get back to break the news? I managed a fair few steps before I caved in and turned around to start again, cursing Una and her bloody red hair all the way back to the hostel entrance.

I waited for the road to be clear of red cars and half an hour later, with my head down and my eyes fixed firmly on the pavement, I finally reached the café.

---