Chapter 19
19
Ruth
The next few days in the cafe were tension filled. Allie arrived for her shift right on the dot each day and did her work with her usual efficiency, but her heart wasn’t in it and smiles were rare. A couple of times, I came very close to snapping at her and asking her to lighten up and leave the problems at home. The only highlight was that Hamish was in town again and seemed in no hurry to leave. He’d worked out that generally the cafe was quiet after three and I was on my own and would have time for a chat.
Allie was filling in her timesheet before she left for the day on Friday afternoon and I was flipping through recipe books. A customer had generously given me a bucket full of yellow-flesh peaches off his tree and I was desperate for something to do with them. They wouldn’t keep for much longer. Allie cleared her throat and I looked up. Her bag was slung over her shoulder and she had her phone in one hand.
‘Ruth, I’m sorry I’ve been such a grump this week. Things at home are quite challenging at the present and although I try hard not to bring it to work, it’s not always that easy.’ Her attention shifted to the phone and she fidgeted with it. ‘You’ve always been a terrific boss, which makes me feel even worse about the way I’ve been.’
‘Well then, let’s hope the situation rights itself pretty soon,’ I said. I wondered if she wanted me to say more but I wasn’t about to say it was all right, because it hadn’t been. She’d been like a sullen black cloud and the customers had noticed.
‘Yes,’ she said and slipped the phone into her pocket without making eye contact. ‘See you next week. Oh, and thanks for the lasagne you sent home with Mia. It was generous of you. It would have been spaghetti on toast otherwise.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She threw me a rueful smile and left. I stared at the kitchen door after it clunked shut behind her. My gut told me there was much more going on with Allie than what Mia had confided about was happening at home. My head started to ache; distant drums again. With eyes closed, I massaged my temples. What if Allie quit? But why would she? She needed the job. Unless a better-paying job with more hours came along. The drums came closer.
Then the rarely used bell on the counter dinged. I pushed myself upright, pasted on a smile and went out to attend.
Hamish strolled into the cafe at three thirty just as I finished making iced chocolates for two kids itching to spend their pocket money. I squirted on an extra dollop of cream and they both grinned. ‘Which table are you sitting at? I’ll bring them over.’
‘By the front window,’ they chorused, already halfway there.
I carried the drinks to table one and turned to greet Hamish. ‘Coffee?’ I said and he nodded. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘Would you believe Zach Cooper’s found a buyer for the car? I’ve been cleaning it out.’ He shuddered.
‘That would have been awful! I don’t know of anyone in town who details cars. I wish I could offer you something stronger than coffee. You look as if you could use it.’
‘You don’t have a piece of that pecan pie left, by any chance?’
‘No, sorry. It’s one of the most popular things on the menu. There are brownies with macadamia nuts.’
‘Sold.’
‘Warm, with ice cream?’
‘Yes and yes. I would never describe myself as a sweet tooth but you are a persuasive woman, Ruth.’
Hamish sat at table three to eat and drink and read the paper. The kids noisily slurped their iced chocolates and when they were finished, they left just as noisily. Four o’clock came and I flipped over the sign, locked the front door and went on with my usual routine. Hamish brought his plate and cup through to the kitchen.
‘Is Laurie not coming? Shall I start putting up the chairs?’
I glanced at the clock. It was well after four thirty. I frowned. Unease fluttered in my stomach. ‘Laurie’s never late.’ There were no messages or missed calls on my phone. I scrolled through to his home number. It rang out. Hamish watched me do all this. He quickly picked up on my anxiety.
‘Does he live on his own? What’s his address? I could slip around there, see if he’s okay.’ He said it casually, as if it were no bother. I knew he’d be thinking about his own father.
‘Are you sure?’ I said.
He nodded firmly, aware of the subtext.
I tried Laurie’s number again with the same outcome. ‘Number seventeen Third Avenue,’ I said, along with brief directions.
‘What’s your mobile number?’ Hamish was poised, ready to enter it into his phone. I rattled it off.
He left and I paced, peering every so often through the front door, never sure what I was looking for. The ambulance? Zach’s police ute? Try as I might, I couldn’t recall Laurie’s son’s name or where the farm was. I looked up the White Pages and found seven Randalls in and around the area. Not good enough , I told myself. Laurie wasn’t exactly an employee but I should have known these details.
Fifteen minutes passed and I began stacking chairs onto tables to distract myself.
I had six chairs to go when my phone pinged with a message: Laurie ok.
‘Thank god,’ I murmured, lightheaded with relief. I sent back a thumbs up, pocketed my phone and finished the chairs. Hamish came in just as I was filling the mop bucket with hot water, detergent and a splash of vinegar.
‘He’d had a bad night so after lunch he laid down for a nap. I rang the front doorbell and when he didn’t answer I went around and knocked on the back door. Took a bit to rouse him. He couldn’t believe what time it was.’
‘Next time I see him I’ll get his son’s phone number. Thanks for going around there.’ I rested the mop against the cupboard and focussed on Hamish. His expression was bleak. ‘Are you okay?’ I said.
He lifted his shoulders and gave the tiniest shake of his head. ‘Just thinking how it must have been for Zach Cooper when he went around to check on Dad, not knowing what he’d find. I suppose for him it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d stumbled across a worst-case scenario.’
‘Goes with the job, I guess. Not something I could do.’
‘Me either. Hats off to the people who do.’
We reached for the mop at the same time.
‘Let me do it,’ Hamish said when I refused to relinquish my grip on the wooden handle.
‘It’s okay. I did it for years before Laurie came along.’
‘And I’m offering to do it now in lieu of Laurie. He still wanted to come and do it but I promised him I would and I’m a man of my word. He believes you work too hard.’
I laughed and reluctantly let go of the mop. ‘He is a dear man. Another lonely soul left to fend for himself after his wife died. They seem to gravitate to this place. Or the front bar of the hotel.’
‘I get why they come here, Ruth. I’ve sat at Dad’s table often enough now to have worked it out.’ He raised his eyebrows before he trundled off with the mop and bucket and I set about unloading the dishwasher and putting out supplies for the following morning. I tip-toed across the wet floor when I went to the storeroom. I loved the vinegary freshness left in the wake of the mop.
‘Come for breakfast in the morning,’ I said after he’d emptied the bucket down the grate outside the kitchen door. ‘On the house.’
‘I will come, but I’ll pay,’ he said. He washed his hands at the hand basin. Large, capable hands, neatly trimmed fingernails. Used to hard, physical work, if the calluses were anything to go by.
‘No, you won’t. Laurie does the floors and I feed him. That’s the deal.’
Hamish smiled and I decided I definitely liked his smile. ‘Fair enough,’ he said, drying his hands on the paper towel. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning. And don’t work too hard. Can’t have Laurie worrying about you.’
I gave an exaggerated eye roll as I locked the kitchen door after him.
I peeled and sliced peaches to make peach and honey jam and then put together the dry ingredients for tomorrow morning’s peach and coconut muffins. While I worked, I pondered how it might be for Hamish going back to his parents’ place, unaccompanied except for his memories. More from what he hadn’t said rather than what he had, I’d gathered all had not been well between Hamish and his father. On that front I’d been lucky: nothing but happy memories of my dad. I’d been doted on. Robert and Elliot being a decade older meant that I’d virtually been an only child, which probably had a lot to do with it. Basically, I’d lived something of a charmed life. There’d been the usual challenges: not getting jobs I’d wanted; relationships that hadn’t worked out; being broke in New York and not knowing how I’d get home. Trivial stuff, most of it. Losing Dad and then Mum a decade later had been king hits, but my brothers, particularly Elliot, were always there in the background, if and when I needed them. So nothing out of the ordinary, really, not like what Hamish and his sister would be trying to come to grips with. And Natalie’s children and grandchildren, losing their grandfather in such a way. How would it be explained to them? And then to have to clean out the car where his father had taken his own life? That was the part that left me with a lump in my throat.
It was late by the time I’d made the jam, poured it into sterilised jars and cleaned up. Peach and honey jam would go nicely with scones and whipped cream. I put aside a jar for Allie, thinking a sweet treat might cheer her up for a bit.