The Kookaburra Creek Café

by Sandie Docker

  ‘I know, petal. I know.’ Hattie squeezed her.

  Reverend Harris came up to them and embraced them both. ‘I hope you know just how much you mean to us all.’ He adjusted his collar and stepped back to Clive and the other men surrounding them who were eager to get started.

  ‘What can we do to help?’ Hattie and Alice asked together and rolled up their shirtsleeves.

  Betty walked past and whispered in Alice’s ear. ‘I wasn’t about to let you go. Either of you.’

  Hattie brushed Genevieve’s hair gently. ‘Well, I never thought Betty would be the one to save the day, but she bloomin’ well has. I do wish she had let us in on her plan. Would have saved us a lot of heartache. But I guess in the end, as long we get to keep the café, it doesn’t matter.’

  She finished with Genevieve’s hair and fixed the cardigan across her shoulders. She was always cold.

  ‘Alice is going to buy it off her. Once it’s back up and running and things have settled.’ She leaned over and whispered in her sister’s ear: ‘Our home will be in good hands long after we’re both gone.’ She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and squeezed Genevieve’s hand.

  If she hadn’t known it was impossible, she’d have sworn Genevieve squeezed back.

  Hattie climbed the steps of her small home and sat on the end of her bed. Alice and Becca wouldn’t be back for a while yet and she enjoyed the quiet. She loved having them there, of course, but it did get noisy sometimes. She wasn’t as young as she used to be and she’d lived alone a long time now.

  Still, at least they were safe, and now they had a future. The café was saved; her home, her legacy, was intact. Now all they had to do was see Joey safely out of hospital and Kookaburra Creek would be back to normal. Everyone’s tomorrow could begin.

  Even hers. Not that she had many tomorrows left at her age. But, however many tomorrows she did have, she’d be damned if she was going to waste them. If nothing else, the fire had taught her that. She looked at the trunk at the end of the bed.

  She opened the wooden box and pulled out all the old newspaper and magazine articles, the photos, every last relic of Buckley Hargraves, and took them outside to her small yard, dumping them unceremoniously in the metal garbage bin.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she said softly, as she lit a match and threw it onto the pile. The yellowed paper went up quickly; the photos curled at the edges and slowly melted. As she stared at the dancing flames, she smiled. ‘Goodbye.’

  ‘Hattie, what are you doing?’ Alice ran towards her.

  ‘Nothing. It’s just a little going-away party,’ she said, taking great pleasure in the confusion that crossed Alice’s face. ‘It’s time we all looked to the future.’ She dusted off her hands. ‘Now, I think we need to have a party. A proper one. My birthday’s coming up and we’ll need to reopen the café. Besides, I think the whole town could do with a pick-me-up.’

  Alice stared back at her. ‘How can you think of throwing a party when Joey’s still in hospital?’

  ‘Even more reason. That boy needs something to look forward to. People who are unconscious can hear. They’ve done studies, you know? There’s no way he’d be game enough to miss my birthday party. Might just give him the impetus to come back to us. It’s all part of my cunning plan.’

  Alice closed her mouth.

  ‘There’s a good girl. You’ll get that organised for me, won’t you?’ She patted Alice on the shoulder and turned her back on the small bonfire, striding into the cottage, feeling lighter than she had in years.

  Kookaburra Creek, 2018

  s the sun began to set Alice and Becca entered the hospital. Fiona came out of Joey’s room and walked towards them. ‘Hi.’

  ‘How is he?’ Alice asked. She knew Betty had Fiona rostered on for the afternoons, but she didn’t normally stay this late.

  Fiona reached out and took Alice’s hands. She smiled, relief in her eyes.

  Alice and Becca ran to Joey’s room.

  Just inside the doorway Alice stopped. Becca ran past her to Joey, who was propped upright in the bed. The bandages had been removed from his eyes and he smiled when he saw them.

  ‘Hi.’ Alice fought back tears.

  ‘Hey,’ he said.

  Becca launched into telling him how she’d made a plaited loaf that morning.

  ‘It was a bit wobbly.’ She shrugged. ‘But Mrs What’s-her-name with the fluffy poodle didn’t seem to mind.’

  Joey laughed and stopped himself, clearly pained with the effort. The right side of his face was covered in dressings that restricted his movement.

  ‘Alice here’s been turning out wholemeal rolls like she’s been doing it forever.’

  ‘Yeah, but they’re not as good as mine, right?’ He winked at Becca.

  Alice stepped into the room.

  ‘You’re awake,’ she said.

  ‘They took me off sedation last night apparently. I came round an hour or so ago.’

  ‘You’re awake.’

  Becca looked at her phone, which hadn’t actually made a sound, and stood up. ‘It’s Hattie. We’ve got a party to plan. Oh, and did you know Betty’s the new owner of the café? Alice can tell you all about it.’ She leaned over and kissed Joey on the cheek before skipping out of the room.

  ‘You know, you’re her hero now,’ Alice said.

  ‘If I’d known that was all it took to win her over . . .’

  ‘Joseph Moretti, you stupid old fool.’ The tears she’d been holding tightly back burst forth. ‘Don’t you ever risk your life like that again.’ She hit his uninjured shoulder. Hard.

  ‘I couldn’t let her . . . not again . . .’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Alice, please . . .’

  ‘Don’t,’ she sobbed, falling into his pillow, and as he wrapped his good arm around her he allowed himself to cry too.

  They stayed like that, without words, until evening turned to night, and Alice knew there was nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.

  ‘You know,’ Joey eased Alice back up, ‘they’re probably going to come past and kick you out soon.’

  ‘I’d like to see them try.’

  Joey smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’ He sighed and reached out to brush Alice’s fringe to the side, the stiffness in his muscles making him grimace with pain.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here.’ She smiled, taking his hand in hers. ‘I saw Fiona on the way in. She’s been visiting every day.’

  ‘She’s a good friend.’

  If the last few weeks had taught Alice anything, it was to fight for what you wanted.

  ‘Is that all she is?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The two of you have been pretty tight ever since she came back to town. I figured you were, you know . . .’

  ‘No. I don’t know.’ He looked mildly amused.

  ‘You mean you’re not?’

  Joey’s smile grew. He was definitely amused.

  ‘Alice Pond, I’m thinking maybe I’m not the fool here. Fiona is a friend. That’s all. She came back all conflicted about her career and Mrs Harris was giving her grief. A lot of grief. She just needed a friend to lean on. Someone with perspective who’d be honest with her.’

  ‘At the markets, Claudine said . . .’

  ‘Alice, you know better than to listen to idle gossip.’

  ‘So you’re not . . .’

  He shook his head.

  ‘You and Fiona aren’t . . .’

  He shook his head.

  ‘I’m rather happy to hear that.’

  ‘I’m rather happy to be heard.’ He squeezed her hand.

  *

  Six long weeks after the fire, Joey was allowed home and his first day out of hospital was celebrated with a gathering at the Cow and Boot. Alice was in a particularly good mood at the pub and not just because Joey was back. The café rebuild was nearly all done, except for a few finishing touches. And she and Becca were moving back in. She’d have to find a way to thank everyone for w
hat they had done to get it ready so quickly, but how did you thank a group of people for giving you your home back?

  Words would never be enough. She’d have to think of something else. But not tonight. Tonight was about Joey.

  Freddy circulated the third round of drinks, smiling at Becca as he handed her a lemonade. She took the glass with a grunt and a frown.

  ‘What’s up with them?’ Hattie whispered in Alice’s ear.

  ‘Oh, she’s cranky he didn’t stop by the bakery for lunch yesterday.’ Alice laughed.

  ‘I didn’t stop by. She’s not cranky with me,’ Hattie said.

  ‘Yes, but she isn’t in love with you.’

  Mr Sinclair burst through the pub doors.

  ‘Howdy, good folk of Kookaburra Creek,’ he said, his feeble voice doing its best to cut through the noise. ‘Look what went national yesterday.’ He held up the article he’d written about the café’s rescue.

  COURAGEOUS CREEK COMMUNITY in thick black letters stood proudly above a photo of the building crew at work restoring the burnt-out café, with Alice and Becca in the background watching on. The pub hushed.

  ‘The Herald have been doing a series on small towns, you know, the whole tree-change phenomenon, and they thought this would fit. The Age are running it, too. I’m . . . we’re famous.’

  A cheer went up from the crowded room. Kookaburra Creek had only once before made it into the news. Fifty years ago when a once-famous actress crashed the car she’d ‘borrowed’ from a once-famous actor, on the edge of town.

  ‘Give the man a drink,’ Reverend Harris called out, and Mrs Harris shot her husband a look.

  Eventually, the excitement settled and guests broke off into small groups of animated but quiet conversations. Mrs Harris chatted with Betty about the imminent bowls trip to Wollongong and how keen the crew were to flog the team from Kiama, who they were yet to beat at a meet. Hattie was filling Joey in on the grandeur that her birthday-party-slash-café-reopening was turning into. At the back Clive was chewing Mr Sinclair’s ear off about doing a series of stories on local Vietnam Vets, perhaps. Becca and Freddy circled the group in opposite directions, clearing and refilling glasses. Becca doing her best to maintain her scowl, Freddy, grinning, seeing straight through the ruse.

  The pub doors opened slowly and Alice turned to see who was coming to join the celebration of Joey’s return. One look at the man who entered and it was clear from the hard set of his face that he wasn’t there as a friend. Her heart started to race. Through the large bistro windows she saw a green ute parked crookedly out front. Carson never parked crookedly.

  She turned to Becca, who was rolling her eyes again at Clive’s exaggerated story. But then Becca caught sight of the man and all colour drained from her face.

  Alice looked back to the stranger, who was searching the dining room off to the side, then back to Becca, and she stood up.

  Freddy, it seemed, had also been watching and, while he wouldn’t have known exactly what was happening, he could tell it wasn’t good. He put a hand on Becca’s back and guided her behind the bar before stepping into the middle of the room.

  ‘Can I help you, mate?’ he said loudly enough that everyone stopped and watched. He knew his town well. ‘You look a bit lost.’ He gave a false smile that Alice was both proud of and somewhat unnerved by.

  ‘I’m looking for Bianca,’ said the man.

  ‘No one here by that name. Sorry.’

  Alice noticed that Hattie had positioned herself to block any view of behind the bar. The rest of the gang shuffled around it too, ready for whatever was coming next.

  ‘Don’t mess with me, kid,’ the man warned, pulling himself to his full height, which was considerable. ‘I know she’s here.’ He pulled the article out of his back pocket. ‘Drove all night to find my precious girl,’ he sneered, stepping closer to Freddy, who didn’t move.

  ‘You!’ The man pointed to Alice and moved towards her. ‘You’re in the photo with her. Skinny little bitch stole my money and I want it back.’

  Joey rose and stood between the man and Alice, his thick arms folded across his chest. Alice could only imagine how menacing he must have looked, covered in half-healed scars.

  The man stopped, assessing his situation.

  ‘She’s nothing but a thief and a liar,’ he said. ‘I’m just trying to track down what’s owed me. She’s nothing but trouble. If she’s here, you’ll want to get rid of her.’

  Alice could see he was getting more and more agitated. She stepped out from behind Joey.

  ‘Show me,’ she said, reaching out for the article, hoping her shaking hand wasn’t too obvious. ‘Ah, yes. The fire was well over a month ago now, though.’ She paused. ‘I remember her. But her name wasn’t Bianca. It was . . . Simone.’ She pretended to look more closely at the picture. ‘That’s right. She was looking for work.’

  ‘Where is she?’ he asked, clearly battling to remain calm, but smart enough to know he needed to keep himself in check.

  ‘I’m really sorry, but she moved on. I couldn’t offer her work, obviously, so she kept going. Never saw her again after that day.’ Alice handed back the clipping.

  ‘Where the hell did she go?’

  Alice shrugged.

  ‘Simone?’ Freddy asked.

  Alice nodded.

  ‘I’m sure she said something about heading up past Brisbane. Loads of resorts up that way with lots of work on offer.’

  ‘Brisbane?’

  ‘I think that’s what she said, mate.’

  Becca’s tormentor stood his ground. ‘Brisbane? How the hell do I get to Brisbane from here?’

  ‘I’ll help you get on the right road,’ Sergeant Carson, dressed in civvies, offered. Alice had noticed him leaning casually against the bar, watching everything, the tight vein in his neck the only indication that his cop instinct was on alert.

  ‘It’s pretty straightforward.’ He smiled, steering the man back out of the pub.

  Alice let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Freddy jumped over the bar to a shaking, crying Becca.

  They stayed crouched on the floor, the pub abuzz with speculation and gossip, until Carson returned, which felt like hours.

  ‘He’s gone,’ he announced, making his way behind the bar.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Alice asked.

  He nodded. ‘Followed him to the highway and stayed there a while to make sure he didn’t double back. Made sure I told him I saw Simone,’ he finger-quoted, ‘get on a bus headed north. Old Reggie’s on patrol a hundred clicks up and I asked him to let me know when he sees the green ute go by.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Alice sighed, helping Becca to her feet. She’d stopped crying, but was still pale.

  ‘Is it about time we had that chat?’ Carson whispered in Alice’s ear, though she suspected he’d probably already pieced together something pretty close to the truth.

  ‘Not right now.’ She hugged Becca tighter.

  Sergeant Carson nodded in understanding.

  ‘Surely you’re not still planning on moving back into the café tonight?’ Hattie said, handing a drink to Alice. ‘Not after this.’

  Alice shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Becca might feel more comfortable in her own surroundings.’ She looked to her charge, who gave a slight nod in response.

  ‘I’ll stay with them, Miss Hattie,’ Joey declared.

  ‘You’re hardly in any shape . . .’

  ‘I’ll stay, too,’ Freddy announced and Alice saw the corners of Becca’s mouth turn up ever so slightly.

  ‘And I’d like to see what’s been done to the place.’ Claudine clapped her hands.

  ‘It’s my investment.’ Betty stepped forward. ‘Don’t think you’re doing this without me.’

  ‘Or me,’ Clive mumbled. ‘Someone needs to keep you lot in line.’

  ‘Oh, Lord.’ Hattie threw her arms in the air. ‘I’ll stay, too, shall I?’

  ‘Slumber party!’ said Freddy, and Alice felt Becca
’s shoulders jiggle.

  On their way out, Carson handed Alice a piece of paper with his mobile number on it, which of course she already knew, and underneath was written ‘any time’. She nodded at him in appreciation.

  A new brass bell clanged as Alice opened the door to the Kookaburra Creek Café. Claudine clapped. Hattie cheered.

  ‘Doesn’t look too bad,’ Clive mumbled as he stepped through onto the new whitewashed floorboards.

  Where the old blue counter once stood, a wood-panelled bench now sat. Each plank of recycled timber was stained in a different colour – pale lime, soft blue, light lemon, bleached rose. Country chic had been the brief and, as Alice looked around at the eclectic mix of distressed-white second-hand tables and chairs, she was thrilled with the result.

  On the new counter sat a glass cupcake stand, five tiers tall. Alice reached out and touched it.

  ‘A new beginning,’ Betty said. The old stand Alice had used since she’d arrived in Kookaburra Creek hadn’t survived the fire. ‘But I expect to be able to choose the first flavour that adorns those lovely tiers.’

  Alice thought Betty could just about choose anything she liked at this point.

  The windows were now dressed with wooden shutters that matched the bench. A chalkboard on the back wall was ready for the daily specials to be written across its black surface and Alice couldn’t wait to write them up.

  ‘Très chic,’ said Claudine, running her hands along the communal table that ran the length of the French doors. In soft grey calligraphy across the stripped-back tabletop was written: ‘Come gather at our table: family, food, friends.’

  ‘The lights will be fitted tomorrow,’ Betty said, with pride in her voice.

  ‘A couple of dry runs in the kitchen and we’ll be good to go.’ Alice beamed.

  Joey stepped up beside her and placed his hand on the small of her back. ‘It’s fantastic.’

  She looked up into his eyes. ‘It’s all because of you lot.’ She turned to face her friends and tears started to well.

  ‘All right. Enough of this. Let’s see upstairs.’ Hattie coughed.