The Kookaburra Creek Café

by Sandie Docker

  With no café to run it seemed only natural to try to keep the bakery going. A debt long owing that Alice was finally able to repay. If she had any say in the matter, Joey would have a business to return to when he got better. Whenever that might be.

  Alice showed Becca how to knead the dough exactly the way Joey had taught her, throwing it in ropes onto the bench. Becca yawned constantly. Four in the morning did not altogether agree with her, but she never once complained. And she was slowly getting her head around the art of baking Moretti’s traditional bread.

  Unfamiliar with the industrial ovens in Joey’s bakery, Alice burned the first dozen rolls, and she had little hope of being able to produce the range of breads and pastries Joey did, but she was managing the basics. And three weeks into the project, they weren’t doing too badly overall.

  Covered in flour, Becca opened the doors at nine. Hattie arrived, bringing much needed coffee for them, and by ten Claudine and Sam came to take over serving. Apparently, Betty had made another roster.

  That evening Alice meandered through town and came to the white bench. Tammy’s white bench. She sat and watched the moonlight dance across the tiny ripples on the creek’s surface.

  Alice picked one of the stems that hugged the bench’s leg and stepped towards the water. Her life had been so very different the last time she’d made a wish this way – the picnic when Tammy was three and Shadow turned up and Alice had wished for clarity regarding her feelings for Joey. Well, she had that clarity now, even though it had taken years to get it.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and blew the tiny seeds onto the evening breeze, wishing with all her might for Joey to get better.

  She made a second wish, too. She didn’t know if that was allowed, but she figured it couldn’t hurt.

  ‘Well, my sweet Tammy, the fight’s not over yet.’ She let out a deep sigh. ‘But I will keep on fighting for our home.’

  ‘Alice? Are you okay?’

  She looked up to see Becca standing before her. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Seriously? I know you’re keeping something from me.’ Becca sat beside her.

  Yes, she had been keeping this from Becca. Until she could find a solution. The poor girl was carrying enough guilt as it was.

  ‘Is it Joey?’ Becca’s voice dripped with fear.

  ‘No. There’s no change.’

  ‘Then what? You’re frightening me. Tell me right now what’s going on.’

  Alice couldn’t believe how very much Becca sounded like Hattie just then.

  ‘It’s the café. The bank. Now that . . . now that there is no café, no business, they won’t loan me the money. I have no equity. Not even enough for the land value.’

  A single tear fell down Becca’s cheek. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘Well, I’m still working on that. We need to come up with a plan C. We’ll get the gang together again and we’ll come up with something.’

  ‘If anyone can do it, you can.’ Becca slipped her hand into Alice’s and squeezed it tightly.

  Yes, Alice could begin again. She hadn’t lost everything. She still had Becca and Joey.

  Somehow she’d find a way.

  Kookaburra Creek, 2018

  attie stepped quietly into Genevieve’s room so she didn’t startle her. In front of the window her sister sat, the sun on her back, warming her on this cold morning.

  ‘Hi there, sweetie.’ Hattie sat beside her. ‘How are you?’

  Genevieve stared ahead.

  ‘Would you like me to do your hair?’ Hattie got back up and fetched the brush from the dresser. The mirror was completely covered, as it always was, by a green scarf, and the familiar pang of guilt rushed through her.

  ‘It’s over.’ She brushed Genevieve’s soft, thin bob – fifty strokes on each side, making sure her grey strands fell over the extensive scars down her left cheek. The nursing staff never quite got it right, no matter how often she showed them.

  ‘I haven’t told Alice yet. How can I?’ What a confounded mess.

  She returned the brush to its place and sat back down. ‘I wish you were here, Gen.’ She pulled the lilac afghan up over Genevieve’s legs. ‘Are you warm enough? Let’s take a walk.’

  She wheeled Genevieve out of her tiny room, through the living area and into the garden.

  Spending time with her sister always calmed Hattie, and by the time she got back home she was feeling marginally better. She kicked off her shoes and sunk into her old, floral sofa. She still didn’t know how to break the news to Alice, but she was in a better place to deal with it. She’d been keeping it from her for a week now and she just had to find the courage. She opened the letter from Smythe and Smythe and reread the words that changed everything.

  ‘Dear Miss Brookes, We are writing to inform you that an offer has been made on the property at 1 Mini Creek Lane, despite the substantial damaged sustained in the recent fire, and the Hargraves family have accepted it. The new owner, who wishes to remain anonymous at this time, will be taking possession in fourteen days . . .’

  Buckley Hargraves had done it. From the grave he’d managed to throw one more spanner in the works. But she’d be damned if she’d let him ruin Alice’s life. She’d find out who the new owner was and come to some sort of arrangement. Hattie could be very persuasive when she wanted to be.

  Kookaburra Creek, 2011

  or the first time since the fire, Alice entered Tammy’s room and saw it as it actually was. A mess of clothes and toys strewn across the floor, the bed a crumpled mess of linen. Alice had lived in the room since Tammy’s funeral and she could now smell the evidence of that.

  It was time, she knew, to tidy up. To give Tammy’s room the love and care it was owed.

  She started with her own mess, picking up her clothes and throwing them in the washing basket. Then she picked up Tammy’s toys, left as they lay the day fire tore their lives apart. With each stuffed bear, each half-clad doll, Alice could see Tammy’s crooked grin. The one she always wore when playing with her favourite things.

  The empty tub under Tammy’s bed was just the right size to fit everything in. The suitcase in the cupboard, the one ready for emergencies, would fit all of Tammy’s clothes. Alice took in a deep breath and got to work.

  With the room clear, she sat on the bed. Beside her was Tammy’s favourite colouring-in book, her box of pencils, and her rainbow headband. Alice looked around the room, her life dismantled. She picked up Tammy’s favourite jumper, infused with the lavender fabric softener Claudine had given her, and held it to her face. She cried into its soft folds. In a small rainbow-striped box she put those last few things, steeling herself to put one foot in front of the other.

  Those next few days routine and mundanity kept Alice going. Baking, cooking, running the café – an insincere half-smile painted on her face, a carefully crafted mask hiding the truth.

  ‘She’s doing so well.’

  ‘Such a brave girl.’

  If only they knew. Alice was hanging on so tightly to her daily chores she was afraid she’d simply disintegrate if she stopped. And at some point in the repetitive haze, getting out of bed each morning had become just a little less onerous.

  ‘She’s moving on so well, bless.’

  Alice hated that expression. Moving on. To her it carried connotations of leaving something, someone, behind. Abandoning the past. But Alice didn’t want to abandon anything. She hadn’t moved on at all. She had simply kept going, carrying the past inside her deeper every day, but never forgetting.

  ‘You there?’ Joey called, arriving with two loaves of bread.

  ‘Hi,’ Alice said in a clipped tone, as she came into the dining room. ‘Thank you.’ How long would it be, she wondered, before she could look at him and not see Tammy? Another month? A year, perhaps? Ever?

  ‘I hear business is picking back up.’ Joey rocked back and forth on the spot.

  ‘The regulars are all back.’ She busied herself with the cutlery, polishing what she’
d already polished only half an hour before.

  ‘Do you . . . do you think you’ll maybe, ah, come to the markets next week?’

  Alice wanted to utter the words, give him the smile that would ease his pain, make things right.

  ‘I . . . I don’t know, Joey.’

  ‘Alice . . .’

  ‘Please don’t.’ She forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘I can’t. We can’t.’ She fought back tears, looking at him, seeing Tammy’s lifeless body in his arms. ‘We just can’t.’

  He grabbed her hands. ‘I can’t lose you too, Alice.’

  She could see the tears in his eyes.

  ‘I won’t.’ He stepped closer.

  She shook her head. ‘I’m already lost.’

  She moved to the other side of the café and started setting the tables.

  Hattie burst in. ‘Ah! I’m glad you’re both here. I’ve had the most amazing idea. Sorry. Am I interrupting something?’

  ‘No,’ said Alice. She looked Joey in the eye. ‘We’re done.’

  Joey turned away and placed some menus on the tables. Alice saw him wipe his cheeks, despite his efforts to hide doing so.

  ‘Good, then. The fundraiser for the RFS got us nowhere, so I’ve been wracking my brain to come up with a better idea. I want to hold a picnic. Charge for the privilege of attending and really get this thing going. Sunday is the first day of spring so what better time? Can I count on you to bake for me?’

  Alice knew that it wasn’t so much a request as it was an assumption.

  ‘I think it’s supposed to rain on Sunday.’ Alice frowned.

  ‘Bother. What about having it here, then?’

  ‘I suppose . . .’

  ‘Splendid.’ Hattie kissed her on both cheeks. ‘I’ll rally the troops. Joey, you spread the word. Expect us at eleven on the dot.’ She spun on her heel, flicking Joey in the eye with her purple scarf as she did.

  ‘Hurricane Hattie strikes again.’ Joey looked to Alice, hope in his eyes. When she didn’t respond he straightened his shirt and cleared his throat. ‘Right, then. I’m off.’

  ‘Joey. I’m sorry. I wish . . .’ She had no words.

  ‘It’s okay, Alice.’ He reached out and brushed her cheek. ‘I understand.’ His voice cracked and he rushed out the door.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered into the empty room.

  Days drifted, weeks waned, months meandered and somehow Alice found a way to move from one season to the next. She wasn’t sure when, but at some point her new half-life without Tammy became her normal, though the pain never went away.

  She would often catch herself talking to her little girl when baking, or going into her room to check on her at night, only to remember she was no longer there.

  During the day she kept the constant ache at bay with work and would bake late into the night when sleep was plagued with ashen images.

  She thought about leaving Kookaburra Creek, but it was Tammy’s home, and when she was still and quiet she could feel her baby with her.

  In the twilight of a mild December night, Alice and Joey walked beside the creek. Things would never be the same between them. That she knew. But they had found a way to move through their lives, together yet separate, two shadows that never quite overlapped.

  ‘What is this surprise you want to show me?’ Alice glanced sideways at him.

  ‘Well, if I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.’

  They turned in the direction of Dandelion Dell and Alice hesitated. She hadn’t been back. Not once.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Joey whispered in her ear.

  When she saw Tammy’s dandelion patch, renewed with life as Mother Nature was so expert at doing, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

  ‘What’s that?’ She stared at the shiny white bench sitting in the sea of fluffy white seed heads.

  ‘I . . . we, wanted to do something, you know, to remember her, to mark tomorrow.’

  Alice put her hand on her chest. She’d been trying to ignore that the anniversary of the fire was here. ‘I can’t believe this.’

  ‘The whole town chipped in. She was special to all of us.’

  ‘You guys are amazing. This place is amazing. You did this for her?’ She shook her head.

  ‘And for you.’ He took her hand and held it to his chest. ‘You’re special to us too.’

  ‘Joey.’ Alice shook her head.

  ‘I know it’s going to take time, Alice. And that’s okay.’ He kissed the palm of her hand. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ He bent down, plucked a stem and handed it to her, before stepping off into the shadows.

  Alice sat on the new bench, there in Tammy’s special place. There where life had so instantly and brutally changed.

  She could hear Tammy’s laugh, loud and infectious. She thought perhaps she might cry, but instead she smiled.

  With Joey’s delicate gift in her hand, she stood and stepped to the edge of the creek. ‘Sorry I’m late, sweetie,’ she said. She bent down and laid it on the water, watching it float past her feet.

  Kookaburra Creek, 2018

  rm in arm Alice and Becca walked along the creek, Shadow padding along slowly beside them. They hadn’t been back home since the fire. At first, Hattie hadn’t let them. She’d organised someone to gather some clothes for them and insisted they live with her till something more permanent could be arranged. Secretly, Alice was relieved. She wasn’t sure she could cope with seeing the aftermath. And then there seemed no point now it was no longer hers. That was just rubbing salt into the wound.

  There was nothing else to do but cry when Hattie told her. But she’d reminded herself she still had Becca, and even though Joey hadn’t woken up yet he hadn’t got any worse. And in the strange mess that was her life right now, they were both things to be grateful for. She would find another home for her café. She would find another home for her and Becca.

  ‘So plan C’s out the window,’ said Becca. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘Well, there are twenty-three more letters in the alphabet, so we keep thinking.’

  ‘Does anyone know who the owner is yet?’

  Alice shook her head. ‘No. Which is really unusual. In a place like this news like that normally spreads pretty quickly. And I can’t believe they haven’t shown themselves by now.’

  The talk around town was all conjecture, though that didn’t stop it gaining momentum and, if any of it was to be believed, either Hattie was making up the whole story about Buckley Hargraves for publicity and actually still owned the café, or a celebrity chef had bought the place to turn it into a posh country retreat. And they were two of the less ridiculous rumours.

  ‘A mystery.’ Becca tried to hide a smile.

  ‘What do you know?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  As they rounded the bend that led to the café, Alice noticed cars and utes parked out front. Standing around in a large group of KingGee blue and khaki were a dozen or so men including Reverend Harris and Clive, and there was someone in the middle of the group barking instructions.

  ‘Hey, there.’ Freddy ran towards them. ‘Glad you two happened by.’ He winked at Becca. ‘Phase two is about to start.’

  ‘Phase two?’ Alice asked.

  ‘Yep. Operation Café Recovery.’ He turned around and spread his arms. ‘Bringing the café back to life. The new owner’s here and the engineer’s been by and given the go-ahead to get started.’

  ‘What? The new owner? How is this a good thing? Why are you all smiling?’

  ‘Because they all know something you don’t.’ Betty stepped out from the middle of the circle.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’m the new owner.’

  Alice stared at her. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘There’s nothing to understand. We had a problem. I stepped in.’

  ‘How? They wanted so much.’

  ‘Oh, I’m rich. Filthy rich, actually. Stocks and bonds and what-not.’ She waved her hand in the air. ‘My lawyer, Jim,’ sh
e pointed to a man with a phone pressed to his ear, ‘released some extra funds and I bought the place.’

  Alice recognised him from opening night of the play. He was in the audience.

  ‘So you bought the café?’

  ‘Yes. I wasn’t going to let anything or anyone take away our town café. I made an offer. They accepted.’

  ‘And everyone knew?’

  ‘Just about.’ Freddy grinned. He stepped aside as Hattie joined the group. ‘Everyone except you two.’ He laughed.

  Hattie took Alice’s hand. ‘Thank you for the call, Becca.’

  ‘You knew?’ Alice looked at the girl smiling smugly beside Freddy.

  Becca shrugged.

  ‘There’s no point doing something like this if you can’t have a bit of fun with it, now is there?’ Betty smiled. ‘Harriett Brookes isn’t the only one in town with a flair for the dramatic.’

  ‘So Betty owns the café?’ Alice needed to make sure she was fully grasping the situation.

  ‘Oh, good. You’ve finally caught up. But if you’re going to continue running the place, you’ll need to be a bit more on the ball. I only own it on paper. You two are still in charge. We can work out the details later. Maybe we can come up with some sort of purchase plan, Alice. I hear the market has had a sudden and dramatic downturn.’ Betty winked. ‘But right now, we’ve got a lot of work to do. Hattie, do close your mouth. Gaping is not becoming in a woman your age.’ She spun round leaving Alice and Hattie staring after her.

  Fiona and Mrs Harris and ladies from the church group had arrived armed with sandwiches and kegs of water and set up a trestle table.

  Alice heard a series of clicks and turned to see Mr Sinclair in the shadows taking photos and jotting things down in his notebook.

  He walked towards Alice. ‘I heard about the community rallying to rebuild. Thought it might make a good story. If you don’t mind?’ Sinclair lowered his camera.

  ‘That’s fine. I guess.’ She fought back tears as she looked at her friends, who’d banded together to rebuild the café. They were all in on it – coming up with this plan, keeping it a secret. They did this for her, and for Hattie. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, staring at her family, her home.