With the new build, the café had been redesigned with the staircase inside. No longer would Alice have to worry about getting to and from work in the rain.
The flat was painted white, with a big red rug in the centre of the living room. A new couch, grey and soft, nestled against a wall, and a television sat in the corner. The kitchen was now open plan, making it look twice as big as it actually was. But it was the hallway that took Alice’s breath away.
‘We know what you lost, so we all went through our things. We hope it’s okay.’ Betty squeezed her shoulders and Alice stood, mouth open. She couldn’t stop the tears now pouring freely down her cheeks.
One entire wall of the hall was covered in a collage of photos and painted sketches, some small, some enlarged, of Tammy and Alice, Joey and Tammy, Hattie and Tammy, Claudine and Betty and Clive and Tammy; of Alice, pregnant, standing behind the café counter; of the whole group at Sunday brunch. All in elegant black frames.
‘Thank you,’ Alice whispered. She turned and on the opposite wall was a photo of Becca and Alice taken, it appeared, when neither one was aware they were being watched, sitting on the jetty, their toes in the creek.
‘You can fill that wall up as you go,’ said Hattie, squeezing her into a hug.
‘Right, then.’ Clive’s grumble was pitched higher than usual. Where are we all going to sleep?’ And everyone looked to someone else for an answer.
Beneath a midnight velvet sky Alice sat on the deck looking up at the stars. The lights in the café behind her were off, the torches on the new deck long extinguished. She counted the white twinkling dots above, lost her place, and started again.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’ Joey asked, startling her. ‘Sorry.’
‘Hi. You neither, huh?’
Joey shook his head. ‘That motley crew strewn about your living room make for very noisy bedfellows.’
‘Especially Clive,’ they said together.
As if on cue, they heard a shout. ‘To the trenches!’ Clive’s voice cut through the night and Alice and Joey started laughing.
‘Sorry this wasn’t quite the homecoming we had planned for you.’
‘Oh? This wasn’t part of some careful ruse to get me to stay over?’
‘Not quite.’
Joey sat beside her. ‘How you holding up?’
Alice thought about lying. Thought about telling Joey she was perfectly fine. But she’d never lied to him before. Kept things from him, yes. But never outright lied. And she wasn’t about to start. Not now they’d been given a second chance.
‘What if he comes back?’ She looked into his eyes.
‘Then we’ll be ready.’ He leaned in. ‘I’d be more worried about her taking off.’
‘It’s on my mind.’
‘Regardless, it might be wise to start using that new lock on your door. Just to be safe.’
‘Will it keep you lot out, too?’ Alice nodded towards the upstairs door.
‘Hardly.’ He laughed.
‘Freddy’s harmless enough, I suppose. And Claudine,’ Alice said, grinning.
‘Yeah, it’s that Miss Hattie you have to watch.’ Joey leaned in even closer, his warm breath tickling her cheek.
Curled up on a blanket in the corner of the deck, Shadow barked in his sleep and Alice jumped. ‘Does he always dream?’
‘Most nights.’ Joey smiled. ‘It’ll be okay.’ He steadied Alice’s shaking shoulders. ‘I reckon you and Becca have had your fair share of drama. You’re overdue for a break.’
‘I hope so.’
‘I know so.’ He pulled her into his embrace.
‘When you hold me like this I almost believe anything is possible.’
‘I’d better not let you go, then.’ Joey tilted his head and Alice could almost taste his lips.
‘I have something for you.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white box wrapped in yellow gingham. ‘I’ve wanted to give it to you so often, but it was never the right time. Recent events have made me realise there’s no such thing. The only right time is now.’
Alice opened the gift and pulled out a long silver chain. Dangling at its end was a small clear disc and sprinkled inside were dandelion seeds.
‘It’s beautiful. Are they real?’
Joey shifted his weight. ‘Yes. They’re from . . . I picked it up . . . when you dropped it . . . I had it preserved in resin.’
Tears fell down Alice’s cheeks as she realised it was the dandelion she’d dropped at his feet all those years ago. ‘From Tammy’s funeral?’ She looked into his eyes.
He nodded.
Alice couldn’t speak. She handed Joey the necklace and turned so he could put it on her. As his fingers brushed the back of her neck a shiver ran down her spine.
‘I don’t know what to say.’ She turned back to him, the distance between them so small now. ‘Thank you.’
He smiled and brushed the hair from her forehead.
‘Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?’
‘Forgiven you? What on earth for?’
Joey cast his eyes down. ‘For not saving Tammy,’ he whispered.
‘Oh, Joey.’ She pressed her hand into his chest. ‘You think . . . God, no. I never blamed you for that.’
‘But all that time you kept me at a distance, I thought it was because you couldn’t forgive me.’
Alice’s heart broke for the pain she’d caused him all these years. ‘My sweet, sweet, Joey. I never blamed you. It was just, for the longest time every time I looked at you I saw her smiling face and it was just too hard to bear. God, I’m so sorry you thought . . . Oh, Joey. It’s you who needs to forgive me.’
‘So that’s what’s kept us apart all this time? That I remind you of Tammy. Not that you couldn’t forgive me?’
Alice shook her head. ‘Over time that got easier. But there was just so much history. So much between us that was unresolved.’
‘We can’t change history, Alice. Our own or anyone else’s. All I need to know is how you feel about me, now.’
She touched Joey’s cheek. ‘All this time, through the darkness and the light, it’s been you. You, Joseph Moretti, are the reason I’m breathing. In more ways than one. I didn’t realise it at first, and then once I did it seemed all too late. You’ve loved me all this time and I just never knew how to love you back. Not the way you deserve.’
‘Just by being you.’
‘It’s taken me a while to understand that.’
‘And now?
She slipped her hand behind his head. ‘And now . . .’ She leaned in and pressed her lips into his.
There were no birds singing in the trees, no breeze rustling the leaves overhead. There was just Joey; his arms wrapped round her and his soft lips moving in time with hers.
I told Freddy everything.
He sat with me once everyone sorted out their place. Hattie to go in to Alice’s room, Clive on the sofa, Betty on the blow-up. Claudine said she was fine on the rug, but I reckon she might regret it in the morning, and Joey said the armchair was more comfortable for his burns than lying down. I think he was lying. But it’s an okay lie, I guess.
Freddy sat on my chair at my desk and said he’d stay watch there all night, which might sound creepy but it was really nice. So, I figured he had the right to know what he might be getting himself in for and the whole bloody story came pouring out of me.
He just sat there and listened. If he was shocked, he didn’t let on. If he was upset, he didn’t show it. He just listened.
When I finished spilling my guts, he came over to me and wiped the tears from my cheeks. He didn’t freak out. Didn’t say anything. He tucked me into bed and sat back on the chair.
He’s asleep now. He snores. Just a little. It’s kinda cute.
Every time I close my eyes I see his face, so I’ve given up on sleep tonight.
I know now that no matter where I go, he can find me. I know that I can run, whenever I want, wherever I want. But no matter where I go, he’ll s
till find me.
So, I guess I might as well stay here. I know they will always have my back.
I know now what family is.
Kookaburra Creek, 2018
lice lay in the grass, her arms stretched above her head. The breeze was light, the sun warm. The smell of fallen eucalypt leaves crushed into the dirt so familiar, so distant.
She smiled as his face came closer, his breath on her cheek. She could taste the coffee on his lips, smell the scent of cloves and honey on his neck, as he kissed her gently, briefly.
He rose, the edges of his face fading into mist.
‘Too smart,’ he whispered, tapping her on the head. ‘Not smart enough.’ He touched his chest and looked at her with eyes so sad she began to cry.
‘Goodbye,’ she whispered.
The sound of pots and pans crashing woke Alice and she realised she was on the deck, with her head on Joey’s shoulder. The two of them must have fallen asleep there at some point in the early hours of the morning.
She rubbed her eyes. Her cheeks were wet. The taste of coffee lingered on her lips, the smell of cloves and honey in her nose. She abruptly sat up, pushing the dream from her mind.
She stretched and shook Joey’s arm.
‘What? Who?’ He jumped up.
‘It’s okay. We fell asleep. I’m guessing the others are in the kitchen.’
Hand in hand, they stepped through the open sliding doors into the café dining room.
‘Morning,’ said Freddy, startling them as he pushed his way through the shutters into the dining room.
Joey clutched his chest. ‘Jesus. You do remember I’m recovering from a heart attack, right?’
‘Sorry, petal.’ Hattie sashayed into the room, carrying a plate of fried eggs. ‘The two of you just looked far too cosy for us to wake you.’ She winked and patted his cheek. ‘Becca’s cooking breakfast. For all of us.’ She placed the eggs on the long table in the middle of the room.
Clive and Betty came in, raising their coffee mugs in salute.
‘Bonjour, mes amours,’ Claudine smiled, carrying a large platter of pancakes.
Alice fell into Joey’s good shoulder and burst out laughing.
Scrambled eggs, bacon, banana smoothies – the food just kept on coming out of the kitchen. Becca had even thrown together a fruit salad and muesli, in consideration of Joey’s recovering heart.
Joey ignored the salad. Instead he piled some waffles onto his plate and began to eat them.
‘Well, well, well.’ Carson appeared at the front of the deck. ‘What’s going on here?’ He crossed the deck in one stride and sat beside Alice.
‘Breakfast,’ Alice said, frowning slightly. What was he doing here so early? Had something gone wrong?
‘Just thought I’d pop by and see how the sleepover went,’ he said with a broad smile.
‘Smashingly well, my dear.’ Hattie handed him a plate of eggs and bacon. ‘Could you smell it from your car?’ She grinned and Carson winked. Apparently he’d also spent the night there. Nothing got past Hattie.
He leaned into Alice. ‘Pulled over in Queensland,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Seems someone tipped them off up north that they might want to check out his vehicle. Turns out that someone was right. He’s been arrested. Possession.’
She sighed and her shoulders dropped. ‘Thank you.’
While the crew started cleaning up Alice found Becca sitting on the jetty, her bare feet in the creek, and she joined her.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
Becca shrugged. ‘I’m worried he’ll come back.’
Alice put her arm round her and was pleased Becca didn’t back away. ‘I suppose that’s a possibility. Unlikely, but I guess you never know. All I can promise you is that we will always be here for you. We’ll always protect you.’
‘I know.’ Becca nodded.
‘And if you ever want to find your mum or real dad, I’ll help with that. But this is your home. Forever more.’
Becca smiled. ‘I know. They made their choices, Alice, and I reckon it’s about time I started making my own.’
She hugged Alice tightly and Alice hugged her back.
Kookaburra Creek, 2018
lice swept the deck of the café and wiped down the tables. The dry run had gone well and they would be ready to reopen in a few days. In the week since she and Becca had moved back in, they’d checked off their list of finishing touches – a touch of paint here, a wobbly table leg fixed there – and there was nothing left to do but make sure the café was sparkling clean. And that was a job Alice insisted she do herself.
She’d sent Becca to Glensdale with Freddy to buy serviettes and cupcake cases, and Joey had a big day in the bakery ahead of him. Truth be told, she was grateful for some peace and quiet after the last few days.
Inside, Alice pulled the chairs down from the tables, the mopped floor now dry. She hummed softly as she set up the dining room.
The new replica doorbell of the Kookaburra Creek Café rang loudly and Alice turned around.
Through the café door stepped a woman. Her blonde hair was shorter, her face was gaunt and her posture was just ever so slightly less straight than it used to be. But, despite the distance of time, Alice recognised her old friend immediately.
‘Alice,’ the woman said.
‘Louise.’
‘I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.’ Louise held up an envelope – the envelope Alice had sent Dean all those years ago with news he had a daughter. ‘But I had to try. Someone in town said I’d find you here.’
‘It’s been a while.’ No other words came to Alice’s mind.
‘Do you mind if we go somewhere to talk?’
In silence Alice and Louise walked along the creek until they got to Tammy’s bench. They sat, staring into the water.
‘It’s Dean,’ Louise started. ‘He’s gone. He’d spent so much time over the years taking more and more risks. Skydiving, scuba diving, rally car racing. But in the end it was pneumonia. His lungs never did recover properly from the dam.’ Louise’s voice was thick with tears.
‘When?’ asked Alice, trying to keep a neutral expression.
‘Seven days ago.’
The night of the slumber party. The night of that dream. Alice bowed her head.
‘I found these. In his drawer.’ She handed Alice a bundle of postcards tied with a peach ribbon. ‘I had no idea how much you loved him.’
Alice gulped.
‘I just had to come and find you. Tell you I’m so sorry.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I was trying to protect him. You have to understand that.’
‘What?’
Louise handed Alice the envelope she’d been carrying. ‘I never . . . I thought you didn’t really care. I thought . . .’ She shook her head. ‘I never showed it to him.’
Alice struggled to take in what Louise was saying. He never got the letter. He never knew. All those years she spent thinking he didn’t want to know his daughter. All those tears she cried over his rejection of her, and he never even knew. He died not knowing Tammy existed.
Alice turned to Louise. ‘But you read it? You knew what was inside?’
Halting sobs escaped Louise’s throat. ‘I did love him, you know. Right from the very start. That day at the lookout. He treated me, like, well, like he did genuinely care. About me. No other guy had ever treated me like that. I tried to stop the way I felt. For you. But when you took off, I was so angry at you. That you could do that to him. I was just trying to be his friend.’
Alice couldn’t even speak. She tried to process what Louise was saying.
‘Why didn’t you tell him, Alice, as soon as you found out?’
‘I didn’t know how.’ Alice’s head hurt. ‘Would it have made any difference?’
‘I don’t know. All I know is he was crushed. When you left. He looked for you. For so long. Then he gave up. Then he let me in. He was just starting to get over you when that letter came.’ She looked a
t the envelope in Alice’s lap. ‘I had to protect him.’
‘Did he love you?’ Alice’s voice was soft.
‘I believe he did. In a way. We had a good life together.’
‘Kids?’
‘No. We tried. The chances were always slim though after the accident.’
Alice shook her head. So much wasted pain.
‘I don’t expect you to forgive me, Alice. Or even understand why I did what I did. But I wanted you to know about Dean. Closure, I guess.’
Alice closed her eyes for a second. Closure.
‘Mostly, I wanted Tammy to know her father never abandoned her. Not by choice. It was me. It was all me. And I’m sorry.’
Too many emotions ran through Alice’s mind and filled her soul.
‘If you’ll let me, I’d like to apologise to her. Tell her what her dad was like.’
‘Ease your guilt?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You can’t.’
‘I understand. Your decision.’ Louise nodded.
‘No. I mean, you can’t – no one can. Tammy died. Eight years ago.’
‘Oh, Alice.’ Louise threw her arms around her.
Alice stiffened under the embrace, then she softened. Louise wasn’t the only one at fault – it was such a tangled mess of secrets and lies and mistakes.
They sat there watching the sun fade behind the trees.
‘Are you driving back to Sydney tonight?’ Alice broke the silence.
‘Yes. I should get going. Here’s my number. Just in case . . . I don’t know.’
‘Drive safe.’
‘I am sorry, Alice.’
‘So am I.’
Alice watched Louise walk over the bridge and in to town, waiting for hate to fill her. But all she felt was regret and pity. So much was lost already. Hate seemed so pointless now.
*
By the time Alice got back to the café, the night was cloaked in darkness. Two lights shone down from the windows in the apartment and all was quiet. There was no need to hurry. She’d go up in a minute.
With her feet dangling in the creek beneath the jetty, Alice fingered through the bundle of postcards. Every unanswered note she’d ever sent Dean after the dam accident, every word she’d written him, tied neatly with the ribbon she’d wrapped her ponytail in the night of the school dance. She’d always thought she’d lost it on the way home that night.
The Kookaburra Creek Café Page 28