Page 18 of Autumn at the Oak Leaf Café
The kitten meowed.
‘Sorry, that wasn’t the option. It’s autumn, isn’t it? And I found you in autumn, so it seems appropriate to give you an autumn kind of name. How about Hazel? My grandmother’s name was Hazel. And she was very nice, so I think that would fit. What do you think?’
The kitten pushed its head against the palm of Madeline’s hand.
‘Okay, Hazel it is, then.’
The kitten mewed.
‘And it sounds like you’re hungry again.’
Madeline mixed up a little of the kitten milk formula and set it down in a bowl for the kitten to drink. Even though it seemed a lot livelier than yesterday, however, it was still walking with a slight limp. Madeline frowned, shaking her head.
An hour later, she was sitting in the waiting room at Brentwell Animal Hospital, abbreviated over the door to B.A.H. At some point in the fairly recent past, some local illiterate had spray painted the word “hamburg” and an exclamation mark beside it, both of which had been partially washed off. As Madeline entered, a teenage receptionist with jet black hair, nose rings, and eye liner that made her eyes looked like black pits of hell raised her head and said, ‘Welcome to Bah!’ in an imposing voice which had two old ladies, one with a pug and the other with a chihuahua, rolling their eyes.
‘Oh, Caroline, do stop it,’ the one with the pug said.
‘Uh, hello,’ Madeline said. ‘I found this kitten. Can I have her checked, please?’
‘She’s a stray?’
‘I assume so.’
‘No collar or microchip?’
‘No, and I have no idea.’
‘Okay, take a seat.’
Madeline sat down on a chair with Hazel nestled into her lap. Rather than sit still, though, Hazel seemed full of climbing spirit, attempting to scale the mountain top of her head while the two old ladies looked on with amusement.
‘She’s a lively little thing, isn’t he?’ the woman with the pug said.
‘Yes, very much,’ Madeline said. ‘I just found her last night, round the back of my café.’
‘Oh, you run a café?’
‘Well, it’s not technically mine. I’m the manager. Do you know the Oak Leaf Café by the northern gate of Sycamore Park?’
‘Oh, Angela Dawson’s place?’ The woman leaned across and patted the other woman on the knee. ‘Oh, Flora, we must stop in for a coffee once Brutus and Maximus have shaken off these worms.’
Madeline, who had been just about to pat the pug on the head, hastily withdrew her hand.
‘Yes, what a lovely idea, Margaret. How are you enjoying it, dear?’
Madeline smiled. ‘Oh, it’s nice. A struggle at times, as it’s just me in there on my own.’
‘Why don’t you hire someone to help out?’
‘Ah, I don’t know. I’m only the temporary manager while Angela’s overseas.’
‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.’
Angela had actually told Madeline she could hire staff if she wanted, as long as she kept an eye on the bottom line. And having struggled with a couple of bus tours, not to mention constantly running out of things because she was too flat out to keep track of stock, she had to admit it would be a good idea.
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.
‘Angela always used to hire students,’ Flora said. ‘Give them a bit of discipline, you know. Can’t be all dancing and boys.’
