Page 35 of Autumn at the Oak Leaf Café
Jonas smiled. ‘I think it looks … nice.’
‘Just nice?’
He rubbed the top of his head. ‘Having little hair left, I’m pretty jealous. At least it’s not purple.’
‘That’s next week.’
‘I can’t wait. Goodnight, love.’
‘Night, Dad.’
As Jonas went into his room, Madeline turned back to the mirror. She looked about as different now as Rory did to the man she had been together with. He hadn’t seemed much impressed with her braids, but maybe this new look would make him notice her … if he showed up again.
Only as she turned away from the mirror and switched off the bathroom light did she have a sudden pang of regret.
What I am doing? Did I really do this to impress my ex?
Ruby thought it was awesome. So did Dan and Pete. Hazel didn’t appear to care, but Milady gave her a supportive bark.
Friday night, the fog had closed in again, and Sycamore Park was starting to shed its leaves. The trees were turning mottled shades of brown and orange, and around the bases of the trees the leaves were beginning to pile up. With the park’s street lights glowing through the fog as leaves drifted down from the trees above, everything felt mystical and ancient. She thought about herds of deer racing through the forest, of druids chanting beside standing stones, of foxes standing up on their back legs to speak. With a smile, she started to close the door, then paused.
From the direction of the playground, a figure appeared out of the fog. Wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, he raised a hand.
Madeline’s heart skipped a beat. She stood motionless in the doorway like a military wife watching her husband return from the front. As Rory reached her, it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms.
‘Thank God you’re still open,’ he said, coming to a stop. He wiped a hand across his hair, and a few dislodged strands of a gelled combover slipped back into place.
‘I was just about to close,’ Madeline said, unable to hide a smile. ‘But for you I can stay open a few more minutes.’
He smiled, holding her gaze. ‘I’ll have a walnut latte please.’
She made the coffee while he set his briefcase down. He reached up to stroke Hazel, sitting at the top of the tower, but the little kitten hissed at him, so he hastily withdrew his hand.
‘Sorry about that,’ Madeline said. ‘She’s usually very friendly.’
Rory shrugged. ‘Perhaps she’s just tired.’
‘She’s a cat,’ Madeline said. ‘They can be temperamental.’
‘Yes, this is true. So, how have you been?’
Madeline shrugged. ‘Oh, you know, not bad. You?’
‘Just busy. You know how it is. Climbing the corporate ladder, it’s not just about making money. You have to put in the hard yards, secure the deals.’
Madeline suddenly remembered what he did for a living, and felt a pang of guilt, as though she was colluding with the enemy. Lots of regulars had mentioned the proposed privatisation of the car park, and not a single one had said anything positive. Perhaps … hearing it direct from Rory might give her a better perspective.
‘I … ah, I googled you,’ she said, bringing over his drink and setting it down. ‘I found out who you work for.’
Rory’s eyes momentarily hardened, in that way they had when they were together, as a prelude to some tantrum which would involve a childish rant, the stamping of feet, sometimes the throwing of an object within close proximity. This time, though, he appeared to get a hold of himself, taking a deep breath, smoothing down his jacket.
‘A job’s a job,’ he said, taking a sip of his coffee.
‘It must be hard, you know, doing something like that.’
Rory turned in his seat. ‘Because everyone thinks I’m some evil dictator, there to take away their freedom?’
‘Well—’
