Page 27 of Autumn at the Oak Leaf Café
‘You should run for council.’
Ruby tugged a strand of brightly coloured hair. ‘I just might.’
‘So a notice went up?’
‘Yeah. The theatre is in contract negotiations right now. The company have posted a proposal up by the entrance gates.’
‘I think I’ll go and have a look. Will you be alright for few minutes?’
‘If you hear me screaming, that means another bus tour has come in.’
The notice was posted to the gate by the car park’s entrance.
Snide and Company Parking Contractors: Proposal: a redevelopment of the current Brentwell Theatre car park
How this benefits you
Approximately 20% more spaces
Better security
Capital raised to aid local businesses
Investment back into the surrounding area
It didn’t sound too bad to Madeline. When she returned to the café, however, Ruby was quick to point out the true meanings behind each bullet point.
‘Wow, you’ve been overseas too long,’ Ruby said. ‘I suppose they don’t have these scumbag contractors where you were living?’
Madeline shrugged. ‘I never had a car,’ she said.
‘More spaces means they’ll make the current ones smaller. And you know, if you go even an inch over the line, you get fined. My dad got one from outside Brentwell Station. And you can’t dispute it because their customer service is a machine. Better security means they’ll put up a gate so you can only park there when they choose, and guess what? If you’re caught inside after that gate closes, you’ll get fined.’
‘Okay….’
‘Capital for local businesses … well, guess what the new local business is? Themselves. Scumbags. And investment back into the surrounding area probably means their filthy inspectors will buy the odd coffee while laughing gleefully at all the pensioners they’ve managed to fine that day.’
Ruby was seething, practically bouncing up and down with rage. Madeline patted her on the shoulder. ‘You really should run for council,’ she said. ‘But while you’re considering it, perhaps you should go home early.’
Ruby nodded. ‘Thanks, Boss. Are you still up for cricket on Sunday? Don’t forget, I’m going to introduce you to Darren.’
Madeline smiled. ‘Sure, why not?’
It was a lovely evening, the sun dipping into the trees on the west side of the park, no wind, and the air unseasonably warm, so Madeline kept the café open a couple of hours longer than usual. Dan, arriving for work, stopped by for a slice of cake and a coffee, Milady looking on with bemusement as Hazel used the dog as a climbing frame. On the subject of the car park, Dan was reticent. Not being a car owner himself, he didn’t really have a finger in that argument, he told her, but he’d overheard a couple of bus drivers loitering around while their groups were in the theatre talking about how their companies would likely refuse the parking fees.
‘And you know what that means, don’t you?’ he said. ‘No customers, no theatre.’
The light was starting to fade, and Madeline was just packing up to go home, when a familiar voice said, ‘Hey.’
Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed before she looked up, then turned to see Rory standing nearby in a snappy business suit, an umbrella hooked over his arm despite the cloudless sky.
‘Hey, Madeline. I didn’t expect to find the café still open. It’s pretty lucky. I’d love a quick cappuccino or something.’
Her heart plumed with warmth. ‘Sure.’
The day’s heat was finally starting to give way to the evening’s cold, so they went inside. Rory took a seat at the counter, watching her as she made a coffee for him, and one for herself, because … just because.
‘You know, it looks like you’ve made a real success of this place,’ he said. ‘I’m happy for you, I really am.’
