The Cafe by the Bridge

by Lily Malone

  She missed Abe.

  Unlocking the sliding door, she greeted her enthusiastic pooch. He followed her inside and stepped straight across the living room floorboards to his bed, turned three precise circles and lay on his tummy with his black nose peeking over the side and his eyes on her.

  ‘Good boy.’

  Taylor poured herself a glass of red wine, put her nose in the glass and sniffed, lowered the glass to swirl, then took a sip. Then she sat on the couch and pulled off her shoes before lying back.

  What a day.

  She blew out a sigh. Poor Will. How could she have missed him being so depressed he’d considered suicide?

  Some psychologist she was.

  Before she did anything else she rang her parents. They needed to know she’d found Will and he was fine, or pretty close to fine. Fine for now.

  Taylor: the Woods’ family glue.

  Taylor: holding them all together.

  ‘Darling, Will’s here. He’s having dinner with us. He said he has news.’

  Her mum said news the way she always did, with a sparkle through it. In her mum’s world, news meant something momentous, like a new job, an engagement, a baby, an overseas trip. News.

  Taylor’s smile was sad.

  Will’s news meant telling his parents that he wasn’t working and about Amanda. News meant he intended to go to the police, report that scammer and get his life back.

  She finished the call to her mum. Then she sent a quick text to Abe. She’d missed calls from him and he’d want to know if she’d found Will.

  Pushing herself to her feet, she padded to her refrigerator. Its contents were sadder than she was, if that were possible. She opened the freezer, which was only marginally more cheery than the fridge, pulled out a lasagna, peeled off the protective coating and shuffled the container into the microwave.

  The microwave bleeped at her three minutes later and she ate on the couch, poking her fork through melted cheese.

  Imagine how all those Italian mammas felt when they saw what the modern world had done to their beloved iconic dishes. Imagine how it would feel to eat the real thing on a piazza somewhere. Florence. Venice. Naples. Rome.

  Taylor sighed again, and forced down another mouthful of lasagna from a box.

  * * *

  Abe didn’t believe the text for a second. He read it twice and then dialled Taylor’s number.

  She took so long to pick up he thought the call would go to voicemail. On the fifth or sixth ring, she answered with a simple, ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hey. What makes you think you’re bad company?’ That’s what her text said. I found Will and everything’s okay but I’m not much company at the moment. I’ll call you tomorrow. xx Taylor

  ‘It’s been a big day. I’m knackered,’ she said.

  She sounded knackered. She sounded like she’d been hit by a bus.

  ‘Talk to me. What happened?’

  There was an audible sigh over the phone before, reluctantly, she told him about finding Will at the library.

  ‘But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? He’s going to the police. I thought that was what you wanted?’

  ‘It is … but …’

  ‘But what, Taylor?’ He wished he was with her. It killed him that he was so far away and he couldn’t see her face. Chalk Hill might as well be China.

  ‘I really dropped the ball this year. I was so focused on Will’s problems I wasn’t properly there for my patients—’

  ‘Did a patient actually say that to you?’

  ‘No, but that’s not the point. I know it myself—’

  He probed further. ‘Are you saying it because you took time off this year to come to Chalk Hill? Or when you followed Will to Amanda’s place?’

  ‘That was just for a few days when I followed Will last year. A couple of afternoons.’

  ‘You’re allowed to take some time off, Taylor. Everyone is. Did you have a patient complain?’

  ‘They shouldn’t need to complain, Abe. I know I was distracted. I know I have high standards, but I’m sure I didn’t listen properly. I had a young boy in my office this morning with his mother and all I could think about was Amanda and dead rabbits.’

  ‘You’re not a machine,’ Abe said.

  ‘It’s not just about work.’ He heard her drag in a shuddering breath. ‘I got so focused on my feelings for you, I lost sight of Will. My little brother was depressed to the point where he actually considered suicide, and I didn’t even see it.’

  ‘You saw it.’

  ‘But I was almost too late. If something had happened to him … I don’t know what I’d do. How could I live with myself?’

  ‘You saw it, Doc. You saw it in me, too. You helped me get my shit together. I was real close to losing it until you came along. I’m not pissing in your pocket.’ He put a bit of steel in it. ‘I mean it. You’ve helped me get my head together. You encouraged me to see Dr Palmer. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me.’

  ‘I think I need to clock off and spend some time doing not much at all. I need to recharge my batteries. Europe maybe. I’m so tired.’

  She’d go travelling? She’d go without him?

  Did she think he was fixed now?

  Was he a check-box in a list of Losers to save that she’d now ticked?

  Hold on there, Abel.

  He’d promised her that night after the Bowling Club, after they’d made love the first time. He said he wouldn’t act like a kid anymore. He’d promised her he’d grow up.

  She needed him.

  She needed him!

  ‘I told you I was bad company,’ she said, while he was stone cold silent, figuring all this out. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise, Taylor. You don’t have to apologise to me, or anyone. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time either. You can lean on other people sometimes. You can lean on me.’

  She expelled a whuff of air down the phone. ‘I’m going to talk with Kristin, my colleague. I’m going to sound her out about me taking next year off. I want to travel. I think that’s what I need.’

  ‘Then you should do what you need, Doc,’ Abe said, wishing he could afford to take a year off too. He’d go with her if she asked him. He’d find a way to pay for it but it might take him a while.

  If she didn’t ask him, well, he’d wait. He’d wait as long as it took for Taylor to sort her head out and come home.

  * * *

  Why hadn’t he asked to come too? Was he waiting for an invitation?

  Abe might be all for her leaving, glad to be rid of her. But she didn’t think so. His silence wasn’t telling her that. On the other hand, he hadn’t exactly passionately declared, ‘Don’t leave! I don’t want you to go.’

  ‘Europe, hey?’ he said, as they found a subdued rhythm of conversation, a beat slower than before.

  ‘I think so. London first, maybe.’

  ‘When are you thinking of leaving?’

  ‘In the new year. January. February.’

  ‘Bit cold in Europe that time of year, isn’t it? Snow. I don’t think you’d like it. You could go later. You could go in spring or summer.’

  ‘Yeah, me and half the population all on European vacation.’

  A pause, then he said, ‘Who’d look after Bruno?’

  He wasn’t volunteering, and that thought was oddly comforting. ‘Mum would have him.’

  ‘He’d miss you, though. You’re his pack leader.’

  ‘He’s a dog. He’ll be fine. Mum and Dad have more time for a dog. They have a bigger yard. He’ll get more walks. He’ll definitely get more treats.’ Bruno chose that moment to lift his head from his paws, like he knew she was talking about him.

  ‘He’ll end up fat and lazy. Pining for you.’

  ‘It’s only a year. Might be less. I’ll miss him, but I’m not going to change my plans for him. Now is the right time for me.’

  ‘What if you’re longer than a year? What if they won’t hold your job?’

&nb
sp; ‘I don’t think that would happen, but if it does, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’

  ‘What about your car? Who’d you leave that with?’

  She’d miss her car. A lot. ‘I guess I can put it in storage.’

  ‘Won’t you need to, like, run it regularly or something?’

  ‘It’ll work out. Maybe you could take it for a spin every now and then.’

  ‘I don’t want to stay home and drive your car every now and then! You’re making me damn fucking jealous, Doc. I wanna come with you.’

  There it was. She closed her eyes.

  Taylor hadn’t known how desperately she’d wanted to hear him say the words until she heard them and her world caved from mountain to molehill, falling slow and beautiful, an avalanche of kinetic sand.

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’ she asked him.

  ‘Like I can afford to spend a year in Europe,’ Abe said.

  ‘I’d pay,’ she said. ‘Plane tickets. Accommodation.’

  ‘Nah. I can’t do that. That wouldn’t be fair.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’ she said, with a hint of exasperation. ‘A year is a long time. Your cooking skills could get you a job anywhere. I’m only offering to get you there, not keep you.’

  ‘It’s too much. I can’t ask that!’

  ‘You can pay me back if it means that much to you.’

  ‘It’s too much,’ he said again.

  ‘If I was the man and you were the woman and I just offered to buy you a trip to Europe, there’d be no qualms about it. No stigma at all.’

  ‘Right. Yeah. I see that. But, you’re not a bloke and I’m not a woman.’

  ‘Then what’s wrong with me paying your way there?’

  ‘I need to think about it. I need to think about the café, what I’d do with it. There’s my mum, my dad, the farm, the family. I’m not sure I can leave while Mum is sick.’

  ‘Take your time. I’m not rushing you. You could meet me over there.’

  ‘I could get in a manager,’ Abe said. ‘Someone might be keen to run the business while I’m away. I’d pretty much let them have it. As long as it paid the lease so Jake and the family weren’t out of pocket, they could keep the rest. That way Chalk ’n’ Cheese would still be there for when I get back. If I shut down the business and Jake rents the space to someone else, they could put their own business in there and I’ll lose it.’

  ‘But would you want to go back to Chalk Hill and the café? You said you couldn’t wait to leave when you were a kid. You might find a job in Europe cooking that pays so well, you get to keep me,’ Taylor said, running her index finger over the line of the phone.

  ‘I could sell Chalk ’n’ Cheese, but I need at least a year of trade figures to show any potential buyer. If I put it on the market now, I won’t have the summer trade to give a realistic picture of what it’s worth.’

  ‘Then get in a manager for now and decide after.’

  There was a gap in the conversation, but it was a loaded gap, like a snowed-in mountain pass. A week of sunshine and it would melt that snow clear away.

  ‘I want to come travelling with you,’ he said.

  ‘I want you to come with me too.’ It would be amazing to travel with Abe.

  * * *

  Through Jake, Abe tracked his parents’ progress across the brown miles of southern Australia, much as if they’d been a parcel with a reference number gone missing through Australia Post. They were in Dubbo, Jake said, then on the Hay Plain. They stayed a few days in Mildura because Mum was tired, before pushing on to Adelaide.

  Like the previous weekend, Abe left the café after close of business on Sunday to drive to Perth to stay with Taylor, and once again found himself on Monday sitting on Dr Larissa Palmer’s incredibly comfortable couch, talking about what made him tick. She made it very easy to talk about himself for a solid forty-five minutes.

  He cooked dinner at Taylor’s that night, a recipe for pork belly he’d been considering for the café. Taylor sat on a bar stool, sipping from a glass of white wine, and they debriefed his session with the psychologist.

  ‘She thinks my relationship with my dad messed me up more than I let on, or certainly more than I knew. She says my need for Dad’s approval could have been the root of having a low self-esteem, or something along those lines,’ Abe said, scraping a piece of bread through a shallow bowl of extra-virgin olive oil. ‘Instead of thinking all Amanda’s texts and phone calls were obsessive or over the top, I was happy to think it was genuine because I craved the affection. Who knew I was so needy?’

  Taylor dunked her own piece of bread in the oil. ‘It’s not really being needy to want affection or approval from the people we love. That’s the way it should be. Sociopaths don’t feel love, except for themselves. Amanda’s phone calls were about manipulation and control. If she was texting you all the time, she’s dominating your thoughts and no one else gets a look in. Not another girl, or family, or friends. It’s excluding you from all others except her.’

  ‘Hmm. Anyone would think you do this for a living,’ he said.

  She had a grain of dukkah seed on the bow at the top of her lip. Very cute it looked, balancing there. He leaned over the countertop, grazed the seed from her lip with his thumb and thought about how much he wanted to kiss her.

  He always wanted to kiss her. Taylor was an incredible kisser. Sometimes that’s all he wanted to do. Lose himself in taste after taste of her. Long. Slow. Lazy.

  He wanted to kiss her right now over her kitchen counter; kiss her in the perfume of her pink rose bush in the front yard in the morning before he drove home; kiss her in the warm rain-spray of Victoria Falls in summer; kiss her on a mountaintop in Switzerland in winter; kiss her in a bar high in a sky-scraper restaurant at the top of New York anytime of the year.

  The sticking point in any travel plans was his mother’s health.

  His folks were almost ready to start the long stretch of the Nullabor Plain. In less than a week, all being well, his parents would be home.

  Well, his mother would.

  His father? Belgium was a long way from Chalk Hill.

  CHAPTER

  35

  ‘I’m so sorry I’m late, ladies,’ Ella said to Irene, Loraine and Sally, as she breezed into Chalk ’n’ Cheese with that customary flush in her cheeks and pulled out a chair at the pool committee’s table.

  Either she’d run all the way from Begg & Robertson Real Estate, or Jake had been kissing her senseless, and how good was it that some things in the world never changed?

  ‘Latte, Ella?’ Abe called across the café.

  ‘Please. Phew.’ Ella laid the strap of her handbag over her chair. ‘I had lunch with Jake. I hardly see him at the moment.’ She leaned forward conspiratorially and added, ‘Shearing’s started.’

  All three ladies nodded knowingly. Whether those knowing nods related to them understanding the demands of shearing time, or whether they too put Ella’s tardiness down to her being kissed senseless, Abe would never know.

  Irene had a definite twinkle up. That put his money on the kissing.

  It was busy in the café again today. He’d been flat out with bushwalkers, and the employees of the general store had come in for an early Christmas staff lunch. A bus tour had called through, and now the pool ladies.

  Abe made Ella’s coffee and, as he delivered it to their table, Irene pulled The Agenda out and began reading from the top.

  ‘Have you had any luck with the new swimming instructor?’ Abe asked, placing Ella’s coffee before her.

  ‘That’s first up for discussion, once someone seconds the minutes,’ Irene said.

  ‘I’ll second,’ Sally said, raising her hand. Irene noted it down.

  Abe hid his chuckle behind a cough.

  ‘So about the new swimming teacher,’ Irene began, ‘I really wanted it to be someone who either lived in Chalk Hill or was planning to move here, but I think I’m being too fussy. I think we have to loosen our criter
ia.’

  ‘Someone from Mount Barker maybe?’ Sally said.

  ‘Yes. Or Albany even,’ Irene replied.

  ‘That’s still pretty local,’ Ella said, and boy did that make Irene, Loraine and Sally’s eyebrows rise. They’d adopted Ella to the Chalk Hill collective bosom, but she still had a lot to learn.

  ‘Call me if I can get you anything,’ Abe said, leaving the pool committee to debate the topic of how local meant local. Usually it meant you had to be born here, or you at least had to have a road named after your family.

  * * *

  ‘Well, you’ve sure changed your tune,’ Ella said to Abe an hour or so later, as the other committee members toddled out the front door and down the steps.

  ‘How so?’ Abe had been sorting cutlery into slots, restocking napkins and refilling salt and pepper shakers.

  The bushwalkers who’d been settled in a corner for most of the afternoon over a very long lunch stood up from their table to leave and waved to him.

  Abe waved back.

  ‘Well, you’re smiling for one,’ Ella observed. ‘You actually look happy to be here.’

  ‘I am happy to be here.’

  ‘How’s Taylor doing?’ Ella sat on a bar stool and Abe thought, uh oh, here comes the inquisition.

  ‘She’s really good.’

  ‘So the two of you … it’s serious then?’ Ella said.

  ‘I guess so. Sure.’

  ‘You’re talking long term?’

  ‘Yeah. I guess we are. I’ve invited her for Christmas lunch, put it that way.’

  ‘Excellent. I’ve asked Erik for Christmas lunch too. That means I won’t be the only non-Honeychurch at the table.’

  It took Abe aback. ‘Erik won’t mind coming to Christmas lunch with his newly-engaged ex-wife? Won’t that be a bit weird?’

  ‘Not for me,’ Ella said. ‘We talked about it. He’s my best friend, Abe. He’s the only father Sam ever really had. I don’t want Erik to be lonely on Christmas Day.’

  ‘What if Erik found a girlfriend?’

  ‘Then I’d invite them both, but he might want to do something with her family. He doesn’t have any family in Perth. Well, his swim-team are like family, the way he cares about them, but otherwise it’s only Sam and me.’