Chapter 8
8
Ruth
A person can look at themselves in the mirror every day and not really see what’s there, staring them in the face. I did it every morning. I cleaned my teeth, moisturised, applied tinted sunblock—heaven knows why, because I rarely got outside when the sun was shining—brushed my hair and pulled it into its usual twist then swiped on lipstick. Always bright-coloured lipstick. All without actually looking at myself. If I had, I might have noticed how worn out I was; how this endless work was leaching the colour and vitality from my very being.
Since the first headache, I’d had two more. Obviously not a virus. The second wasn’t as severe; the third on a par with the first. Luckily, that one had come on the afternoon of our first Sunday opening for summer and I’d had all of Monday and Tuesday to recover. When I’d started to feel better on Monday afternoon, I’d googled migraine headaches and almost convinced myself it wasn’t that. I made a promise there and then that if I had another headache as severe I’d make a doctor’s appointment. Much to my shame, I hadn’t had a serious check-up since I’d left Adelaide half a decade ago.
By mid-week the weather had warmed up and folk were on the move. I couldn’t remember having a busier Wednesday morning. Allie and I didn’t stop. Lorna was in Kadina visiting her elderly mother and although I’d tried, I hadn’t been able to raise any of the other weekday casuals. Of course the juniors were at school and that didn’t break up for the summer holidays until the end of the following week.
By half-past midday, the lunch orders were piling up and I was sweating over the hot plate. When I leaned down to place more loaded plates onto the servery shelf for Allie to deliver, the front door opened and Hamish Adams, aka Macchiato Man, came inside, accompanied by the surly woman he’d said was his sister. What was her name? A younger woman and a girl of about eight or nine, who, by the looks of them, had to all be related, followed them in. Allie directed them to the recently vacated table six and the menu board on the wall above the servery window.
What on earth were they were doing in Cutlers Bay in the middle of the week? Or any other day of the week, for that matter. While the four of them clustered together at the counter and read the menu, not a smile between them, Allie whipped around clearing and wiping their table.
‘I want fries,’ I heard the girl demand.
Allie dumped the dirties, washed her hands and went around to grab the plated food orders from the servery. Our eyes met across the salad sandwiches and chips. No fries in this establishment. She raised her eyebrows expressively. ‘Table five,’ she confirmed, glancing at the docket and then back at me. She swept up the meals and as she passed the counter, I heard her say, ‘Be with you in a minute, folks.’
Steak was sizzling on the grill for two steak sandwiches with the lot plus side serves of chips. A slice of quiche heated in the microwave while I plated the salad and there were more sandwiches to prepare. Otherwise, I would have gone out and served Hamish myself. If only to ask what he was doing in Cutlers Bay again.
The dishes were piling up, along with the food orders. When the steak sandwiches and chips were ready, Allie was busy at the coffee machine, so I delivered them to table eight. ‘Bon appetit,’ I said, recognising the two hirsute workers in hi-vis who’d become regulars. They grinned and tucked in. My steak sandwiches were obviously better than a meat pie from the bakery.
I just happened to glance towards table six as I returned to the kitchen. Another woman with two teenage boys had joined the party, crammed at the same table. Natalie! That was his sister’s name. They were all dressed semi-formally, making me wonder again what they were doing in town. A reading of the will? Nah. There was no legal practice within cooee, so why would they be here to do that? If they were cleaning out Theo’s house they wouldn’t be dressed in their best clothes.
When it was ready, I helped Allie ferry out their food, the table groaning under the weight of it all.
Hamish smiled widely and said, ‘Hello, Ruth.’
I beamed back in return. His sister acknowledged me with a curt nod.
Things calmed down somewhat after that. It never ceased to amaze me the way that happened. One minute I was being overwhelmed by orders and an hour or so later the place was all but empty, the pile of dishes the only evidence customers had been there at all. The stayers had moved on to cake and coffees.
The dishwasher gurgled away and I was at the sink up to my elbows in hot soapy water and dirty pots and pans and utensils when Hamish appeared in the kitchen doorway.
‘Thanks, Ruth,’ he said. ‘Great food and your sidekick makes coffee almost as good as yours. It sure is a busy little place. You need more staff.’
‘Are you volunteering to wash dishes?’ I held up my pink rubber glove–encased hands.
He laughed and it did all kinds of lovely things to his face. Captivated, I stopped what I was doing to stare.
‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve washed dishes,’ he said.
‘Wednesdays aren’t usually this busy and none of my casuals were available at short notice. Anyway, what are you doing in Cutlers Bay?’
‘Dad’s ashes have been interred next to Mum’s and we had a bit of a family thing to say goodbye.’
‘Oh, that was a decent thing to do. I remember you saying it didn’t feel right not having a funeral.’
‘Yeah,’ he said and seemed to withdraw. ‘I’d better go. Just wanted to say thanks.’
‘You’re welcome,’ I said. ‘Safe trip home.’
He nodded, a brief incline of his head, and was gone.
Allie returned with more dirty crockery and cutlery. ‘Who was that?’ she said.
‘Theo Adams’s son and daughter. Not sure who the others were. Obviously related.’
‘The younger women were calling the older one mum.’
‘There you go,’ I said.
She took off to serve customers.
Just after three there was a ruckus out front, punctuated by a burst of raucous laughter. Allie had left for the day so I hurried out of the kitchen to find Ella Sinclair wrangling Claire Cross and her walking frame across the threshold. They were both giggling.
‘It’s you two,’ I said, feigning exasperation. ‘I should have known.’
‘Damn thing,’ Claire said and gave the offending walker a hefty shove. ‘Gets hooked up on just about every damn thing.’
‘Never mind, we’re in now. Will you have tea, Claire?’ Ella said. The pair made their way to table two, their usual.
‘Please, and a piece of the richest, most unhealthy cake you have.’
Ella settled Claire at the table and came up to the counter. ‘Claire’s been unwell. Nothing serious, but she’s almost ninety and really shouldn’t be living on her own in that old house. But of course she won’t agree to the old folks’ home. Not that I blame her.’
That explained why I hadn’t seen them for the last few weeks.
‘If you’re going to talk about me rather than to me, keep your voices down,’ Claire called and cackled with laughter.
‘How is she now?’ I said and loaded a generous slice of hazelnut gateau onto a plate. I added a squirt of whipped cream.
‘Frail, but feisty, as you can hear. Between me, Angie and the community nurse, we’re managing to keep her at home, which is what she wants.’
‘Is there anything I can do to help? I have Mondays and Tuesdays off over summer,’ I found myself offering without thought.
‘Ruth,’ Ella said in a kind but firm voice, ‘pardon me for saying this, but you look as if you need a month at a tropical resort, not more things to do.’
‘I don’t mind helping, not one little bit,’ I said. I could be feisty too. ‘And I like Claire. She brings me lemons to make lemon curd. Now, will you have your usual?’
‘Thank you.’ Ella studied me some more, almost to the point of discomfort, while I made Claire’s pot of tea and her cappuccino. ‘Tell me, Ruth, for interest’s sake, when did you last have a holiday?’
‘I don’t remember,’ I said.
She tutted and then carried the cake across to Claire. I followed with the drinks.
Ella was in her seventies. She’d been visiting friends in Cutlers Bay several years ago and at a crossroads in her life when she’d ended up buying a house and staying. She’d been a regular at the cafe ever since. I remembered vividly the first time she’d come into Rosie’s. She’d looked sad and lost and I’d later discovered she’d had every reason to be that way: recently widowed, she had been forced into a sudden and unexpected seachange that she’d turned into an opportunity to make a new life for herself. Claire was her elderly neighbour and the two women had forged a firm friendship, right from the get-go.
‘Why don’t you get a drink and join us? Sit down for a bit,’ Ella said. ‘My treat.’ She scanned the near-empty cafe as if to emphasise I had no pressing business.
‘All right, I will. Thanks.’ I usually didn’t dare stop at this time of the day because, as lovely as it was to sit down, if a customer came in I didn’t bounce up as quickly as I used to. I grabbed a glass and a cold drink from the fridge.
‘I heard from Henry that Zach and Angie are moving into the bigger police residence,’ I said. I half filled the glass with sparkling water. It was deliciously cold.
‘Lily’s two and a half now and desperately needs a yard to play in. The bigger house had a lawn that Henry and I are slowly coaxing back to life. And there’s even room for Angie to plant a veggie patch.’
‘Lily’s a gorgeous little thing,’ Claire said. ‘Bursting with energy. Exhausts me just watching her.’
‘When are they moving house?’
‘In the new year. Zach’s requested a few days off,’ Ella said. ‘Angie can’t believe how much stuff she’s accumulated in a relatively short time.’ Angie had been travelling and living in her car or a tent when she’d first passed through town and met Zach and Ella.
‘That was to die for,’ Claire said, scraping her plate clean. She slurped her tea and smacked her lips in appreciation.
I laughed. ‘Good to see you haven’t lost your appetite for tea and cake.’
‘When I do, I’ll know my time’s well and truly come,’ Claire said, suddenly serious.
‘Get away with you,’ Ella said. ‘You’ll probably outlive us all.’
The door opened and a group of schoolkids tumbled inside, Allie’s Cody among them. He threw a tentative glance my way.
I stood slowly, easing the kinks out of my back. ‘Thanks for the drink, Ella. Good to see you both.’
Ella touched my hand when I reached for Claire’s empty plate. ‘Are you taking a break over Christmas, Ruth?’
‘Three. Glorious. Days.’
‘Why don’t you close for the whole week? Give yourself a decent break.’
‘Tempting, but I have a few bookings already.’
‘I don’t know how you keep up with it,’ Claire said. ‘Be careful, girl, or you’ll run yourself into the ground.’
First Henry and now Ella and Claire. I must’ve looked as worn out as I felt. Instead of going to Robert’s on Christmas Day, perhaps I should stay home and sleep. No, I needed to get away from Cutlers Bay for a few days as much as I needed sleep. I hadn’t seen either of my brothers since Easter.
That night, when I should have been ordering supplies and planning next week’s specials, I googled tropical resorts and let myself dream.