Watching the rise and fall of Joey’s chest, Alice held his right hand gently.
‘Hey, Joey,’ she whispered, letting him know she was there. ‘It’s me.’
Maybe tomorrow everything would be better. Maybe tomorrow he’d wake up and speak. Maybe tomorrow she would see him smile again and her world would be put back together. Never in her life had she longed to hear him tell her that her bread would never be as good as his. She settled into the chair next to him and continued to watch him closely.
A light cough roused Alice from sleep. Hattie had joined her. She sat up and rubbed her shoulders, cursing the hospital chair for its hard discomfort.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Any change?’
Alice shook her head. Hattie squeezed her hands and kissed her on the forehead.
‘What time is it?’
‘Just gone seven. I don’t know how you convinced the nurses to let you stay, but you’ve been here all night. Becca’s asking for you.’
‘How is she?’
‘Physically, she’ll be fine.’ Hattie shrugged. ‘She’s worried. Go. I’ll stay with him.’
‘No. You shouldn’t be . . .’
‘Don’t you dare say I’m too old to be sitting watch. I’ve known Joey since he was knee-high to a grasshopper and I’ll bloody well stay if I want.’
‘Thank you. How do you do it, Hattie?’
‘Do what?’
‘Find the strength?’
Hattie’s smile was tinged with sorrow. ‘Women like us have a habit of finding strength when we think we have none. We’ll get through this. We always do.’
Alice nodded and stepped lightly down the corridor. Despite Hattie’s reassurance, she didn’t know where she’d find the strength to go on. There was nothing left. The café. The apartment. It had all gone up in flames.
She squared her shoulders and entered Becca’s room.
Becca was sitting in the hospital bed against a pile of pillows, scratching at the IV drip in her hand.
‘Why do I need this?’ she complained. ‘I’m fine.’
‘They’re just making sure your fluids stay up. It won’t be for long.’ Alice pulled the sheets up to cover Becca’s legs.
‘Stop it. I’m fine.’ Becca smiled.
‘You gave me such a scare.’ Alice sighed.
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ She fiddled with the tube coming out of her hand. ‘I was just trying to put it out. I didn’t mean for Joey to get hurt.’
‘Shh. It’s all right. What matters is that you’re okay.’
Tears started to fall down Becca’s cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.’
‘What are you talking about? The investigation said it was an electrical fault. It’s an old building. It was no one’s fault.’
‘Not the fire. Joey. If Joey doesn’t make it, it will be all my fault.’
‘Don’t you think that for a second. Joey has never run from danger before and never turned his back on those he cares about.’ Alice threw her arms around the sobbing girl. ‘Stop that. You are not to blame.’
‘Of course I am. I’m a bad person and I do bad things. Even when I don’t mean to.’
‘You’ve had some bad luck in your life, sure, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.’
Becca started sobbing. ‘You don’t know the whole story.’ She sat herself up straighter. ‘When I ran away, I stole a great big wad of cash from my mum’s boyfriend.’ The confessional words came quickly now. ‘I nicked the money he owed his dealer so I could escape, and he’ll be coming after me for it. And you’ll be in danger. Karma. That’s what this is. Bad people like me deserve bad things.’
‘Stop that right now. You did not deserve anything that monster did to you.’
‘Except . . .’ Becca wiped her tears and spoke so softly Alice had to lean in. ‘Except, I knew when I took that money his dealer would go after him and I wanted him to. I wanted him to get caught and . . . and be killed. Good people don’t think like that.’
‘Oh, Becca.’ Alice squeezed her tightly.
‘It’s karma.’ Becca began to cry again. ‘I wanted him dead and now I’ve killed Joey.’
‘Joey isn’t dead. And your rotten excuse for a guardian deserves everything he gets.’
‘But if Joey . . .’
‘Shh.’ Alice rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair. ‘It will all be okay.’
She held Becca until the tears subsided and the poor girl fell into an exhausted sleep. It would be okay. She needed to believe that. It had to be.
When night fell again, Hattie insisted Alice go back to her place and get some sleep. She didn’t have to worry about leaving Becca or Joey alone. Betty had a certain pull with the hospital staff. None of them were game enough to tell her she couldn’t have her roster, which saw someone with Joey and Becca twenty-four-seven. Alice obeyed Hattie but she only got as far as the hospital car park. She stood there and closed her eyes, gulping in the cool night air. Truth be told, she didn’t want to go back to Hattie’s and spend the night alone. She was afraid to close her eyes and see the fire, see Becca weak and struggling for breath, Joey lying in the dirt, unmoving. She was afraid to see the ghost of Tammy’s sweet, ash-covered face that had begun haunting her again.
‘Alice?’
She turned to see Fiona standing by the lamppost.
‘How are they?’
‘Becca’s going to be fine. Joey’s still touch and go. Visiting hours are over, but in the morning . . . Haven’t you been in?’
‘No. This is a time for family. I just wanted to ask how they were. You know this town, sorting rumour from truth isn’t always easy.’
Alice nodded.
‘Dad’s constantly praying.’
‘He’s a good man,’ Alice said. She started to wobble.
‘Alice?’
‘I’m just tired.’ But Alice looked down and realised her hands were shaking so hard, her car keys were jiggling loudly.
‘Maybe I should drive you home.’
‘I think that would be good.’ Alice felt her knees were about to buckle beneath her.
Fiona helped her into Hattie’s house and took her to her old room. Hattie hadn’t changed a thing since Alice had moved out a decade ago. The quilt was still the same on the bed. The dresser still displayed the same photo in the small, brass frame – the one taken of Tammy and Joey in Dandelion Dell.
‘I’ll go make you a cuppa, hey?’ Fiona said as Alice sat on the bed.
‘Thank you.’ Shadow nuzzled his snout under Alice’s arm as she leaned against the pillows.
The very same pillows she’d found comfort in when she first arrived in Kookaburra Creek. How far she’d come since then. Yet here she was right back where she started – alone, homeless, afraid.
She picked up the photo of Tammy and Joey. She hugged it tightly and began to weep.
Everything was gone. Every memory, every hope. She knew this crippling pain – when life ended and all that remained was a black void. How could the shattered pieces of what was left of her possibly recover this time round?
Kookaburra Creek, 2010
lice could hear them downstairs. Talking, moving, laughing. Living.
For days now, she wasn’t sure how many, they’d come. Perhaps it was weeks. She couldn’t tell. She didn’t care. Talking and moving and laughing. Living. She knew who they were, their voices familiar – quiet and hushed at first, though no longer, speaking now in cruel, loud tones so that she could hear.
Every day, though she wasn’t sure how many, Joey and Hattie came. Sometimes Betty. Sometimes Clive or Claudine. Sometimes Harris or Carson. Always Joey. Always Hattie.
When she lay on the floor, ear pressed down, she heard the snippets clearly.
‘She’ll come down when she’s ready.’
‘Should we take her something to eat?’
‘Surely this isn’t healthy, c’est pas?’
They knocked on her door, but she wouldn’t answer. Hat
tie would come in, though, uninvited, unwanted. She forced Alice to eat. Every few days, she wasn’t sure how many exactly, Hattie made her bathe and sat behind her and brushed her hair.
And every day, Alice listened to the snippets.
‘This isn’t right.’
It’ll take some time.’
‘How much time?’
Alice’s legs ached. Every step was torture. Five painful steps from Tammy’s bed to the sofa. Eight agonising steps from sofa to bathroom. One step from sofa to rug. Tammy’s favourite rug, soft, warm.
‘I’m worried.’
‘She’s been through a lot.’
‘Mon Dieu, this is too much.’
They continued to come. Talking, moving, laughing. Living.
The sun continued to rise and set. The birds continued to sing.
‘I think we should call someone.’
‘Is she any better?’
‘This has gone too far.’
‘Shh,’ Alice whispered, rocking back and forth on the rug, squeezing Tammy’s rainbow headband in her hand.
Alice woke. How long had she slept? Three hours? Three weeks? Sometimes when she slept, she’d drift off into a world where colours were still bright, where laughter still promised joy, only to wake and be reminded that the world was now lost.
Sometimes she dozed. In and out, never quite managing to leave the grey and cold behind. Sometimes she didn’t sleep at all.
A noise. A sharp, beeping sound that wouldn’t stop. Was it in her head? Or maybe it was coming from below. Beep, beep, beep.
She looked at the door. Ten steps. She shuffled.
Stairs. Fifteen steps.
The café bell jangled happily, cruelly.
Twelve steps to the kitchen, to the beeping.
Alice stopped and stared.
On the bench in the middle of the kitchen were glass bowls, spatulas, beaters, canisters of flour and sugar, eggs, packets of butter, patty cases, cupcake tins. All laid out neatly around an alarm clock with a note attached.
‘It’s time.’ Joey’s handwriting read. ‘She’d want you to.’
Alice looked to Sylvia.
Chocolate fudge. Tammy’s favourite.
With shaking hands Alice measured the butter and placed it in a bowl. How much sugar? She hesitated. Then she pictured Tammy holding the cup measures in her hand. One and a half Tammy scoops. She smoothed the top of the brown sugar with the flat palette knife, just like Tammy used to do, and she let her tears fall. She reached for the flour, her hands remembering each step, one by one.
She plopped the batter into the waiting patty cases and spilt some on the floor. No tiny hands running tiny fingers round the bowl, a cheeky chocolate-rimmed grin declaring innocence. And she mixed another batch.
As she pulled the trays out of the oven, the rich chocolate aroma hit her in a rush of hot air. She placed the cupcakes on the cooling rack and sighed.
‘Del-i-soso,’ she said, and the tears began to flow again. She sunk to the ground and rested her head on her arms, eventually falling asleep.
‘Alice?’ A deep voice stirred her and she woke, lying on the floor, oven mitts her makeshift pillow.
‘Joey?’ She stood, six dozen chocolate fudge cupcakes on the bench in front of her.
‘I’ve come to open up.’
‘Oh.’
Alice started to arrange the cupcakes on trays and plates and Joey stepped forward to help her, Shadow limping beside him.
‘Out!’ she shouted at the dog. Shadow bowed his head and went out onto the deck.
‘He only wants to . . .’ Joey started.
‘Don’t,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry, Alice. I did everything I . . .’
‘Don’t. Please don’t.’ She refused to look at him even though she could feel his stare boring into her.
‘Shall I start on the salads?’ he said quietly.
‘Thank you, but I think I can manage today.’
‘Right.’ Joey stood there as Alice continued around him, unable to look at him, knowing if she did she would see her girl in his arms, limp, not breathing.
‘Right. I guess I’ll be off then.’
Alice watched him leave the café and stride along the creek until he was out of sight, Shadow following slowly behind. Alice collapsed to her knees, sucking in great gulps of air.
She stood back up and with trembling hands she set the tables, one by one.
‘It’s so good to have you back on deck, petal,’ said Hattie as she entered the café. ‘Feels right, this place, with you in it.’ She embraced Alice in a tight hug. ‘We’ve been long enough without you. Where’s Joey?’
‘Gone.’
‘You know he’s been running this place on his own?’
‘I thought it was you.’
Hattie shook her head. ‘He worked every night in the bakery till Betty and Mrs Harris came in the morning to take over while he came in here. Every day.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course. Why are you surprised?’
Alice wished she hadn’t been so dismissive of him earlier. She wished she could thank him. Above all else, though, she wished she could face him.
‘What can I do to help?’ Hattie put on a gingham apron, the exact same pink as the stripe in her hair.
Carson was the first customer of the day, coming in to get his turkey sandwich and cupcake.
‘Good to have you back, love.’ He hugged her tightly before sitting down.
Alice felt her chest tighten and forced herself to smile. A small part of her was glad the day was moving so slowly, allowing her an easy re-entry. The rest of her wished she were busy, busy, busy so she didn’t have to think.
‘Mais oui!’ Claudine ran through the door with tiny steps and kissed Alice on both cheeks. ‘So good to see you.’
‘Thank you, Claudine. Coffee?’
She knew Hattie was watching every move so she forced herself to appear perfectly normal, perfectly capable. It was exhausting.
By the end of the day the ache in Alice’s legs had disappeared, replaced with a throbbing. But the throbbing wasn’t so bad. Physical pain was far preferable to the dull emotional ache that possessed her constantly.
Alice tried not to think of the weeks she’d missed. She tried not to think at all, letting years of routine and habit take control of her every move. And that did feel good, to surrender to a more primeval force. To simply do, not think, not remember.
‘What are we going to do with these?’ Hattie asked, pointing at the five dozen left-over cupcakes.
Alice shrugged.
‘There’s a fundraiser tomorrow. They’re raising money for a new truck for the RFS. I could take them along?’
‘I can take them.’
‘That would be nice. Everyone will be pleased to see you again.’
At the thought of seeing all those people, Alice’s heart began to race.
Hattie held her in her arms. ‘You’ll be fine.’
Alice wasn’t convinced, but she’d taken the first uneasy steps back into her life, what was left of it anyway; and, despite her certainty that she would, she hadn’t actually imploded. Perhaps she could take a few more tentative steps.
Glensdale Hospital, 2018
ecca refused to leave her hospital room.
‘I’m not leaving till Joey does. We came in together, we leave together.’
Freddy looked to Alice, not knowing whether to put Becca’s bag down.
‘I understand.’ Alice took Becca’s shoulders and sat her down on the edge of the bed. ‘But the best thing you can do for Joey right now is show him you’re recovering. And the best way to do that is to come home.’ Alice needed her to come home, too. She needed something to keep her going.
‘Why hasn’t he woken up yet?’
‘He’s not young like you, petal. His body needs a bit more time,’ Hattie said.
‘It’s all my fault.’ Becca started to cry.
‘No, it’s not.’ Alice rubbed her
back.
Hattie stepped closer. ‘It was an accident. Pure and simple. I know no one believes in accidents anymore these days, but they happen and sometimes they’re bad and no one’s to blame. I’ll hear no more of this nonsense. What we should be spending our energy on is figuring out how we’re going to help Joey,’ Hattie said.
Alice looked up.
‘You heard me.’ Hattie tapped her stick. ‘The doctors are doing their bit. Joey has someone with him all the time. Now, we need to start being practical.’
‘I have an idea,’ Alice said quietly.
‘Out with it, then.’ Hattie clicked her fingers.
‘The bakery. We can keep it open for him so he has something to come back to when he’s well again.’
‘I like it,’ Hattie said.
‘He did the same for me.’
‘Can I see him before we go?’ Becca asked timidly.
Alice nodded and steered her down the hallway to Joey’s room.
That image is burned into my brain.
Joey lying there like that. Perfectly still, as if he weren’t really there, bandages everywhere. All because of me.
Why would he do such a stupid thing as risk his life for me?
I can still feel his arms lifting me up from the kitchen floor, shielding me with his body. Like a dream. I wasn’t awake. But I wasn’t asleep. I was there. I remember it. But it was like I was looking on from a distance.
Alice’s plan to help Joey is a good one. I heard her crying last night. She’s putting on this brave face that everybody’s buying. But not me. I know she’s scared for him. I am too.
The plan will help keep her busy, though. And me too. I never understood that concept before, staying busy in the bad times. But I do now. Anything will be better than sitting beside his bed waiting for him to wake up.
I can’t believe Alice still wants me around, after everything that’s happened, after everything she knows. I thought for sure she’d want nothing to do with me once she found out I was a thief. But I was wrong.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Not the getting up early bit, but the rest of it. And I can’t wait to tell Joey all about it. When he wakes up.
If he . . .
No.
When he wakes up.
The Kookaburra Creek Café Page 25
