Chapter 25
25
Ruth
I’d been running on adrenaline and caffeine and not much else since the phone call on Friday afternoon. Back in Cutlers Bay and with home in my sights, I’d begun to flag at Hamish’s place. When I let myself into the flat, it was warm and stuffy and something was on the nose: rotting banana peel and an empty yogurt container. I hadn’t emptied the bin in the kitchen before I’d rushed out. Was that only three days ago? It felt like a lifetime. Life as I’d known it would never be the same again because one of my brothers was dead. The realisation stunned me anew and I dropped onto the sofa, closed my eyes and took stock of how I was: tired from the inside out, my head thick with fatigue, and sad beyond any sadness I’d ever felt before, even after Mum died. She’d been ninety-two. At her ninetieth birthday celebrations, she’d said she considered herself to be living on borrowed time.
Elliot and I had been the last to leave the hospital this morning. We hadn’t wanted to desert Robert, even though he was no longer in the land of the living. Lana, Robert’s second wife, had left not long before us. My belief was that she’d hung on until then because she’d been determined to outstay Corrine, Robert’s first wife, and the mother of his children. Elliot had been of the same opinion. We liked Corrine. In a way, she’d been Robert’s Hazel while Lana was his Blanche d’Alpuget. Nevertheless, although I wasn’t overly fond of Lana, it would have been difficult for her because, to some extent, Charlotte, Oliver and Corrine had pushed her to the fringes at every opportunity. Unintentionally, I hoped, but I suspected it’d been the opposite. Elliot had just shaken his head, stunned into speechlessness by the sheer enormity of what was happening.
When the stuffiness of the living area and the smell of days-old banana peel could be tolerated no longer, I dried my eyes, flung open doors and windows and set about the chores I’d come home to attend to. As I ticked off each task, it was hard to ignore the sharp tug of guilt whenever I thought of Elliot, which was most of the time. Distance had brought clarity and I knew now I should have stayed with him.
I sat down and rang him. His voice was slurred when he said hello. Had I woken him or had he been drinking?
‘How are you?’ I said.
‘How do you think I am?’ he barked and I kicked myself for asking such a redundant question. I knew how heartsick I felt.
‘I’ve done most of what I needed to do here, only the wholesaler’s order to ring through and then find staff to cover. Do you want me to come back tonight?’
He made a choking sound, half-laugh, half-sob. ‘What and have you kill yourself on the road because you fell asleep at the wheel on your way back?’
‘I’ll be careful.’
‘Ruth, do not even think about getting in your car again tonight. I’m fine. Corrine sent Oliver over to keep me company and luckily he enjoys a red as much I do. Tomorrow we’re going through all the photos to choose the ones for the service.’
I barely knew the adult versions of Robert and Corrine’s children, my niece and nephew. I’d never been close to them. A few hours over the occasional Christmas lunch or family get-together were the only times we were ever in the same place at the same time. Elliot’s daughter Stacey and I had had a short spell of closeness when I’d first moved to Cutlers Bay, before she and her partner had taken off for Queensland. But when you lose a close family member the ones remaining become more precious.
‘That was thoughtful of Corrine, to send over Oliver. Have you heard from Stacey? Will she be down for the funeral? How did Chris’s gastric bypass go?’
‘Yes, no and smoothly,’ Elliot said. ‘She won’t leave him, not so soon after his surgery. And of course there’re the kids.’
‘Surely they’re old enough to look after themselves? Are you disappointed she’s not coming down?’
‘Of course I am, but I fully understand. I’ll fly up and see them when the dust settles. What about, you old chook, how are you?’
‘Tired … sad … still can’t believe he’s dead. I’d only spoken to him once since we were together on Christmas Day. He didn’t mention training for another marathon, it was you who told me he was.’
I yawned widely and Elliot said, ‘Ruth, do what you have to do and go to bed. Please. I’ll cope. If you can’t get back here until Thursday, I’m in good hands.’
‘I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight, Elliot.’ I’d wanted to tell him that I loved him but the words had stuck to my tongue. Not because I didn’t love him, but because we’d never said that to each other before. Not ever. Why not?
After our conversation, I found it hard to get going again. My body was reluctant to do what I asked of it. The wholesaler’s order was the only task that wouldn’t wait until the morning. The order was late as it was and I’d rung them, promising to have it in within the hour. I attended to that, had a hot shower and tumbled into bed.
I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
* * *
I woke the next morning and luxuriated in that sublime feeling of being totally refreshed after a solid sleep, that handful of precious seconds before reality kicks in. And so it did, viciously reminding me that one of my brothers was dead. This time a week ago he’d been very much alive; he’d been a husband, a father, an older brother, friend and colleague, and training for a marathon. If I hadn’t witnessed his heart’s dying pulse, that last blip of life as he lay prone in the ICU hospital bed, I would not have believed he was gone. He’d been so alive, so vital, always reaching for the next challenge.
If I could have, I would have pulled the sheet up over my head and gone back to sleep, anything to avoid facing the inevitability of another day. From experience, grief was something that must be endured; left to take its course because it would not be denied. But face the day I must and six forty-five was too early to call Elliot, or anyone. And yet, on the bedside cupboard, my phone vibrated with an incoming call.
‘Hamish, good morning.’
‘I expected you’d be up. How are you?’
My brother’s raw response when I’d asked him the same question the evening before sprang to mind. ‘Much better after a good night’s sleep,’ I said, because I was. ‘You?’
‘Yeah, I’m good. You looked wrecked yesterday. I’m glad you had a good sleep. If I can be of help in any way at all, please yell out.’
‘I will and thanks. What are you up to today?’
‘Scraping woodwork and emptying the old rainwater tank. I’m going to take it to the dump. Do you know anyone with a trailer I could borrow or hire?’
‘Laurie Randall has one and so does Zach Cooper. I’m sure either one of them would loan it to you.’
‘Perfect. I’ll ask Laurie. He might even give me a hand to load the tank onto the trailer.’
‘Have a good day, Hamish, and thanks for the call.’
‘You too. Go easy on yourself, Ruth.’
Yawning, I dragged on my dressing gown, went to the bathroom and then made coffee. Officially, this was my day off and Allie would be opening up this morning. Lorna had been rostered to start at ten, however I’d talked to her yesterday evening and she’d agreed to work later in the week instead. ‘What about on the weekend?’ I’d asked.
‘I’m working at the supermarket on the weekend, because they’re short-staffed,’ she’d said.
I needed to talk to Allie before I offered shifts to any of the other staff. She’d get a surprise when I showed up at ten instead of Lorna. I had planned to call Allie last night but decided it would be better to talk to her in person. She’d been so prickly of late and I was reluctant to ask more of her, regardless of her earlier comment about wanting to work extra hours.
I needn’t have worried, because when I went through to the cafe, Allie was expecting me. ‘Lorna rang,’ she said in response to my questioning look. She was at the grill, bacon and eggs sizzling. Silly me for forgetting the efficiency of an employee grapevine. ‘I’m sorry about your brother, Ruth. How are you?’
There was that question again. ‘Up and down,’ I said. ‘Work will be a useful distraction. Shall I take over at the grill or would you prefer me to be out front?’
‘You can take over here if you like.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. She enjoyed cooking but it’d be easier for me to hide away in the kitchen, especially today. I tied on a clean apron and scanned the next orders. Allie plated the eggs and bacon alongside toasted sourdough and then whipped out to deliver them. Moments later, I heard the whirr of the coffee grinder followed by the hiss of steam.
As usual, it wasn’t until after the lunchtime rush that we found time to have a genuine conversation.
‘Robert’s funeral is on Friday,’ I said. ‘My original plan was to drive back to Adelaide on Thursday after the cafe closed, but I talked to my nephew briefly this morning and Elliot isn’t doing too well, so I would like to go back earlier if I could.’ I paused, hoping she’d pick up and offer whatever extra hours she could fit in.
To my consternation she didn’t speak, she simply stood there wringing her hands.
‘Allie?’ I said and frowned.
She cleared her throat. ‘I need Thursday off, Ruth. Sorry. I’ve already asked Lorna if she’d work for me. I can do all day tomorrow and Friday.’
Lorna hadn’t mentioned anything about already working Thursday for Allie. ‘What about Saturday? Lorna’s at the supermarket.’
She shook her head and my head started to pound properly. ‘It’s my birthday on Saturday and Mum and Dad are coming for the day. Mia has asked Suzie to work for her. It was sort of a last-minute thing for Mum and Dad to come up … and we didn’t want to bother you with the changes to the roster. It’s my fortieth.’
‘Oh, nice. Happy birthday for Saturday,’ I said, not sounding as if I meant it, but I did.
How was I going to work this? There were other casuals on the books but me and Allie—and Lorna, at a push—were the only cooks. I didn’t want to have to come home late Friday so I could open the cafe on Saturday morning. My plan had been to spend the weekend and my two days off with Elliot. It would have been good for both of us. I know I’d told Hamish I’d close the cafe if necessary but I’d honestly thought I’d find staff willing to help out. That is, Allie would be willing to step into the breach, because she was the only other person who knew all that needed to be done. I’d even shown her how to deal with the day’s takings.
‘I’m sorry, Ruth,’ she said.
Why did I get the feeling she was apologising for more than not being able to work Thursday?
‘Never mind. I’ll sort something out, even if I have to close the cafe. Just come in at the usual time tomorrow and then if you can do the full day on Friday, I’d appreciate it.’
Allie nodded. She scooted off to clear recently vacated tables and I took a minute to lean heavily on the edge of the sink in the hope my fulminating headache would ease. I was busy scraping down the grill when Allie returned with a tray full of dirty dishes.
‘Ruth,’ she said.
I paused and glanced over my shoulder at her.
‘I have an idea. What if I started early on Saturday to do the muffins, Suzie came at nine and I worked until George started at ten and then I came back at two to sort out the till and whatever else needed doing? I could do the same on Sunday but with Mia.’
‘Do you think George and Suzie would be all right here on their own for four hours? Two juniors? On a Saturday morning? It’s one of our busiest times and neither of them cook. Thanks for the offer, Allie, but I’ve thought about it and the best thing will be to close the cafe on Thursday and then I’ll come home in time to open on the weekend. I’ll ask Lorna to work with you on Friday. And of course Gayle will be in over lunch.’
I couldn’t read Allie’s expression, but she nodded and got on with loading the dishwasher.
At three o’clock, I went home. There were a few customers lingering over coffees but we’d done most of the cleaning up. I felt frustrated and frazzled on top of the nausea and aching head. Not having had any lunch might have had something to do with it, but that wasn’t all.
My place was with my family at a time like this. It’s where I wanted to be and instead my responsibilities kept me in Cutlers Bay. If I didn’t do something soon to ameliorate my situation, I’d begin to resent being here and that’d be unhealthy for me and my staff.