Chapter 15
15
Ruth
Wednesday morning rolled around again and I felt refreshed in the wake of two glorious days off. I’d barely flipped the sign on the front door to open when Audrey Franco was on the doorstep ready for a coffee and muffin. The festive season had been a brief hiatus and now life was returning to normal, the new year rapidly gathering momentum. Christmas with my brothers was a fond but distant memory. Some folk would holiday at the beach for a while longer, perhaps until school went back. But from the second week in January, the early-morning tradies’ vehicles had returned, parked haphazardly out front of the hardware shop, the hospital admin girls were back at work, stopping in each morning for a coffee, and the op shop had reopened.
Audrey’s mouth pinched up like a cat’s bottom as she said, ‘You wouldn’t believe the junk people dump in the op-shop collection bins over the break. That’s why I’m working again today, and Reg is loading the trailer to take to the transfer station as we speak. The most annoying part is that what they can’t jam into the bins, they just leave in the alley.’
‘That’s a bit cheeky,’ I said and went on making her coffee.
‘Disgusting is what it is. The lazy so-and-sos. If the wind picks up it blows stuff everywhere. If we don’t clean it up post-haste, some busybody will report us to the council and next thing we know we have them breathing down our necks.’
‘Then why don’t you do away with the bins all together? Tell people they can only bring their goods when you’re open and then if you decide it’s garbage it can bounce right back home with them. Let them take it to the transfer station themselves.’
Audrey’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Ruth!’ she said. ‘That’s not like you at all.’
‘What’s not like me?’ I said, genuinely curious.
She twitched a bit, uncomfortable with being put on the spot. ‘It’s not like you to be … outspoken. You’re generally so amenable.’
So I was. But did everybody think that because I never voiced an opinion, I didn’t have one? And that meant I agreed with whatever they said? How mistaken they were. ‘I’ve heard you say all this before, Audrey, and I agree, why should you have to clean up other people’s garbage?’ I fixed the lid onto her to-go cup and slid it across the counter towards her. ‘I can’t understand why you’ve never done anything to try and change it.’
Audrey pinned me with a gimlet gaze. ‘If we took away the bins they’d just dump it by the door or in the alley.’
‘What about security cameras?’
‘You think the church can afford the likes of security cameras?’
‘If you can’t afford the real thing, buy some of those fake ones. Put up signs saying the place is under surveillance. It might deter people.’
She nodded slowly. ‘You know, you’re right. Why should we put up with it? None of us is getting any younger and we’re all volunteers. Well, everyone except Daphne. The church pays her ten hours a week to do goodness only knows what. The roster takes her all of ten minutes, the amount of thought she puts into it.’
‘Then ask Daphne to make the suggestion to the powers that be. Go to them with a plan. They might even fund real security cameras.’
‘I can’t see that happening, but it’s food for thought just the same.’ Audrey pointed at the muffins under the net on the counter. ‘What sort are they?’
‘Orange with a lemon curd filling. The lemons came from Claire Cross’s tree.’ In the lull between Christmas and New Year, we’d cleaned out the freezers and I’d discovered several jars of lemon curd.
‘They do look delicious. I’ll have one … No, make it two. Reg can have one with his cuppa. He’s been a real trouper, helping clear out the bins and doing the dump runs. It’s given him something to think about other than his bowels, or the dog’s bowels.’ She shuddered.
I thought it prudent not to comment. Besides, what was there to say? I popped two citrus muffins into a brown paper bag. ‘There you go,’ I said and put the bag alongside her coffee. ‘Enjoy.’
She paid me, gave a brusque nod and swept up her purchases. ‘I’ll see you again tomorrow, Ruth. Daphne wants all hands on deck until we’ve cleared up this mess.’
Audrey marched off and an image of her bursting into a lusty rendition of ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ popped into my head. I almost laughed out loud. I rearranged the muffins to fill the empty spot. It wasn’t long before there were more coffees to make and the morning’s pace picked up.
Nine thirty came but Allie didn’t and no message to say she’d be late. Fifteen minutes later, when I’d begun to worry, she rushed in. I was at the grill flipping toasted sandwiches.
‘Sorry, Ruth,’ she said, frazzled. She threw her handbag into the cupboard, pulled her hair into a ponytail and washed her hands. ‘I went to put a load of washing on only to find the laundry floor flooded and no hot water. Have you ever tried getting a plumber in this godforsaken place? The local bloke’s on holidays, would you believe? Now, where are we up to?’
‘Tables two, three and seven have their coffees and the food’s almost ready.’
‘I’m on it,’ she said.
I plated the sandwiches and she whisked around to the other side of the servery window. When she picked up the orders, I noticed her hands were trembling. Was there more going on here? More than a broken-down hot water service? Even if that were the case we had no time to chat about anything until the lunchtime crowd moved on. And there had been a crowd. Lasagne and salad was the special and it sold out; I’d expected it to last more than a day when I’d baked the two large dishes yesterday. Not that I was complaining. Or was I? Now I’d have to make more this afternoon. I usually stuck with the same special for two or three days.
‘At this rate I’m going to have to do a supermarket run for more salad stuff to tide us over until the next delivery,’ I said. ‘And the butcher for more minced meat.’
‘I’d offer to go but the plumber’s coming and I need to get home to let him in.’ It was already after three.
‘You go then. I’ll pop out after we close when Laurie gets here,’ I said. But where were Allie’s kids? Why couldn’t one of them let the plumber in? And what about the ex-husband? Was he still camped in the sleep-out?
‘Mia’s at Mum and Dad’s for a few days and Cody’s staying with a mate,’ Allie said, as if I’d voiced the questions out loud. ‘I wanted to take them to Adelaide for a weekend before school goes back. Go to the movies, eat out, do a bit of shopping.’ She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘Unlikely, especially not now that I could be up for a new hot water service on top of everything else.’
I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. ‘Apart from the hot water service, is everything else all right?’
‘Not really,’ she said eventually.
‘Don’t think you have to tell me anything, Allie, but I’d have to be blind not to notice that you haven’t been your usual self, not since Cody and Mia’s dad showed up.’
She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes and made a sound somewhere between anger and despair. ‘I’ve got him out of the house but he’s still in town. He insists he has no money, doesn’t have anywhere else to go and says this town is as good as anywhere else.’
‘Where’s he staying?’
Her arms dropped to her sides and she gave a brittle laugh. ‘At the pub. And would you believe he’s got work there? Not in the bar, but all the restocking, yard work and the likes.’
‘Yeah, Leon’s not up for much since he had the heart attack and someone said he’d sacked the bloke who did all that. Caught him with his fingers in the till, apparently.’
‘So Brett said. It’s early days but he says he likes the work so far and Leon seems like a fair boss. My worry is that Brett’ll insinuate himself further and further into the kids’ lives and I’ll be left with the fallout when he moves on—because trust me, he will.’
The front door squealed. Allie bobbed down and peered through the servery window. ‘Going out not coming in,’ she said. ‘Which is exactly what I must do. The plumber is on his way from Kadina. I can’t afford to miss him.’
I grabbed a cloth and a tray to clear the recently vacated tables. ‘See you tomorrow,’ I said. ‘And if you need a hot shower tonight you’re welcome to come around to my place and have one.’
Allie smiled. ‘That’s decent of you, Ruth. Thanks. I might take you up on your offer. If this hot water service is buggered and I need a replacement, it could take several days. Cold showers are okay in this weather, until you have to wash your hair.’
She left. I chatted to the few remaining customers while I cleared the tables. They were out-of-towners. Not grey nomads, because I hadn’t noticed them slip any unused sugar sachets into pockets or purses. Turned out they had beach houses further down the coast. They kept calling me Rosie and I couldn’t drum up the energy to correct them. The three women prattled on about the quaintness of the cafe and how marvellous it was that they could get a decent cup of coffee this far from the city. Several inappropriate responses hovered, but I bit my tongue and smiled and made idle chatter about the weather and such instead until they left.
It was almost four when I flipped the sign behind them and pulled a face in their general direction. Audrey was so wrong. I remembered the other Ruth, the one who wasn’t a cafe owner. She’d had opinions about many things and could be outspoken on occasion. But then she’d moved to Cutlers Bay and opened a cafe called Rosie’s and that’s how people here came to know her. To them she’d only ever been ‘Ruth from Rosie’s Cafe’. They didn’t know the other Ruth, the person who’d had friends and had fun, who’d enjoyed having a few drinks and eating out before taking in a show or a movie. That Ruth used to laugh a lot.
Standing there staring out at the familiar streetscape I experienced a visceral yearning to be that Ruth again. I missed her. These days the only times she ever emerged was with family and old friends and that wasn’t anywhere near often enough.
Later that evening, after Allie had been for a shower and I’d made more lasagne, I called Robert and then Elliot. If either was surprised to hear from me, they didn’t voice it; they sounded genuinely pleased to hear from me. And Elliot laughed when I gave him a potted version of my day followed by a rant about everything I hated about small country towns.
‘You need to get out more. Come for a stay, any time. We’ll eat out, have a few wines, take in a show. You know you’re very welcome,’ he said. He was still chuckling when we disconnected.
Yes, I knew I was always welcome, especially at Elliot’s, and I did need to get out more. Dip a toe back into the world of that other Ruth. Up to me to make it happen, wasn’t it?