Page 66 of Autumn at the Oak Leaf Café
Madeline just shook her head. For a moment she let her smile drop as she stared at Janine. ‘I hope you and Rory are very happy,’ she said. ‘And no hard feelings, okay?’
Janine just gave her an uncomfortable look before turning away. ‘Yes, right, well, I think we can waive the fee for today’s session.’
‘That’s very kind of you. I can see myself out.’
She turned and walked out through the door, giving a little whistle as she went. After all, it was a beautiful day.
They had a grand party at the café for Ruby’s last day. Madeline made the invite open, asking everyone to bring a dish and their families. The entire Morton Road cricket team showed up, most of them with wives and kids. Daniel came with Milady, Pete came with his wife and daughter. Lizzie, Lawrence, and a few other library staff showed up, as did Tom with his fiancée, Jennifer. Milady enjoyed running around with Jennifer’s little dog, Bonky, although Hazel and Sampson seemed a little disgruntled at being shut into the kitchen to avoid being trampled.
Also in attendance were Madeline’s father, her brother, Eric, and his fiancée Amy, but notable for their absence—even though Madeline had sent a cheeky text invite, just to be nice—were Rory and Janine. In a spare moment, Madeline had a quick stalk online and found that Rory’s social profiles had finally been updated with a photograph of two hands entwined, engagement rings visible, boarding passes for a flight to Australia placed artistically underneath. Most of the comments were kind and congratulatory, although one anonymous poster had written: Does this mean you’ll be leaving our car parks alone?
Not everything was perfect, however. The council, forced by public opinion—not to mention a criminal investigation of the company involved—to drop its plans to privatise the theatre car park, was smarting at the loss of its chance to make money, but their alternative response had been much more passive. Instead of CCTV cameras, narrower spaces and fines for going over the lines, they had installed a donations box by the car park’s main entrance.
As the party began to wane late in the evening, Madeline found herself outside, sitting alone at one of the tables. Evenings were drawing in now, the sun setting at around six o’clock. Many of the giant sycamore trees were now half bare, leaves piling up around their bases, others fluttering through the air with each gust of wind. In a couple of weeks many would be bare, the rain would be more frequent, and perhaps customers would become few and far between. Dan would be working a token three nights a week, Pete’s van would only be there on weekends, and without Ruby, Madeline felt a tingle of impending loneliness. Rather than fear it, however, she found she was almost welcoming it. Perhaps she could find time to do other things: to read more books, perhaps take a course in something, maybe learn a craft in her free time. Rather than fearing the unknown as she might have once done, she had shed her insecurities in the most unlikely of places: a few short miles from home.
Angela had called earlier, from a hotel in Nepal. Apparently her and Greg were having such a great time that they’d decided to extend their trip by a few months, and wouldn’t now return until May. Would Madeline be happy enough staying on as manager until then?
Madeline had agreed without hesitation, her brain taking a moment to catch up with her mouth. The decision had already been there, before Angela’s question. Saying yes had been just a formality.
It might not last forever, but then nothing would. But for now, Madeline was happy, already thinking about what she could do at the café to make Halloween special, and after that of course, there would be Christmas to think about. The weeks had a tendency to fly by. She remembered Sycamore Park’s Christmas lights as a child. They had been beautiful, and now she would be right in the middle. She was already tingling with excitement.
‘Hey. Sorry I’m late.’
At the sound of the familiar voice, Madeline smiled before she looked up. Darren limped out of the dark, a bag over his shoulder. He was off the crutches and the cast had been removed, but his ankle was still a little sore.
‘How did it go?’ Madeline asked as he sat down.
Darren nodded. ‘Good. The poor dear was frantic, thought her doggie was going to die. It had swallowed a plastic band which had got caught in its gut. A bit messy to sort out, but he’ll be fine. Shame to waste a Sunday, but the look in her eyes when I told her little Barny was going to be fine made it worth it.’
‘Aren’t you the only vet who does weekend callouts?’
‘In this area. For dogs and cats, at least.’
‘And you said you’d only become a vet to please your grandmother.’
Darren glanced up. ‘And I know she’d be smiling at me right now. Another happy customer. Another lonely old lady who’ll be a little less lonely for a few more years.’
‘I think you’re doing a great job.’
‘As are you. I overheard a couple of customers talking about your blondie crumble cake in the waiting room yesterday.’
Madeline laughed. ‘It was supposed to be a white chocolate brownie but I didn’t put enough egg in, and it fell apart. I kind of held it together with icing, but I made up the name on the spot.’
‘That’s how you’ve got to do it, sometimes. Would you like to take a walk?’
‘Sure. Can you?’
Darren lifted his leg and wiggled his foot. With a smile, he said, ‘I have eighty-percent mobility. That’s pretty good, isn’t it?’
Madeline took his arm as they walked up the path towards Big Gerry’s plaza. Standing in the middle of the mural that Pete had designed, Darren pointed through the trees, past where a streetlight was yet to blink on.
‘Look, you can see the moon.’
Madeline smiled. ‘Feels like winter’s coming, doesn’t it?’
‘Not quite yet, but we’re on the way, aren’t we?’ His fingers closed over hers. For a moment she felt a tug as he leaned on his bad foot, then he righted himself.
‘Ouch. Still a little tender, I think.’
