The Kookaburra Creek Café Read online

  It wasn’t long before they arrived at Alice’s ironbark.

  ‘Did you just speak to the tree?’ Dean asked as he climbed up behind Alice and sat next to her on the branch.

  ‘We go way back.’ Alice shot him a look. Why had she gone and greeted her tree in front of him?

  ‘That’s cool,’ he replied. ‘But if it ever starts talking back, we have a problem.’

  Alice found herself smiling and tried hard not to laugh. She could feel Dean’s eyes on her and she had to admit she didn’t entirely hate his company. There was something gentle about him. All the boys she knew were loud and rough and only interested in farming or footy and teasing her about her father. Dean hadn’t mentioned crops or scrums once. And if he did know about her dad, which wasn’t inconceivable in a town where everyone knew everyone’s business, he wasn’t letting on.

  ‘How long are you and your mum planning on staying in this paradise?’ Alice broke the quiet.

  He shrugged. ‘Mum’s actually thinking of starting a business, so who knows?’

  ‘At least it’s not long till you can take off and go wherever you want.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe? You won’t see me for dust come December.’

  Dean smiled. ‘And what will you do when you escape?’

  Alice stared out across her forest. ‘Go to Sydney. Go to uni. Never come back.’

  ‘What about your family?’

  ‘It’s just Dad. When I’ve got enough money saved, I’ll get him out, too.’ Alice had heard there were places that could help her dad. Places in Sydney. Places that cost money. She had a plan and she knew deep down inside she could make it happen.

  ‘Well, sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.’

  Alice held his gaze, her heart beating fast.

  ‘I really have to go,’ she blurted out, and got up. She climbed over Dean and scampered down the tree so fast she stumbled when she hit the dirt. But she didn’t stop, even when she heard him drop down and start following her.

  ‘Seriously, Pond,’ Dean said, gasping for air as he caught up with her. ‘Wait up. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  Alice slowed to a walk. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘I’m really sorry.’ He smiled and, despite her best efforts to look angry, the corner of Alice’s mouth turned ever so slightly up. ‘Where ya headed?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m going . . . I was just . . .’Alice shrugged. When he looked into her eyes like that, all she wanted to do was stay. ‘I was just walking. Nowhere in particular.’

  ‘The boys have been talking about some dam everyone goes to,’ Dean said.

  ‘Pip’s dam? It’s ten minutes’ drive that way.’ Alice pointed west.

  ‘What do ya say, Pond? Fancy a drive? My ute’s over near the shop.’

  ‘I s’pose.’ It was just a drive. And it wasn’t like he was interested in her. No one ever was.

  *

  Dean sped along the gravel road and Alice watched the speedo hit 130, then 140.

  ‘You might want to slow down a bit.’

  ‘Not scared are you, Pond?’ He pressed down on the accelerator.

  ‘No.’ She swallowed hard. ‘It’s just the cops are usually out on this stretch.’

  He slowed down and Alice felt the tightness in her chest release.

  Pip’s dam wasn’t exactly what anyone would consider beautiful. In the middle of a field of yellow grass a thin strip of green ran around the perimeter of the deep water hole. It wasn’t a huge dam but, in an otherwise brown and dusty existence, it did provide welcome relief on scorching summer days. When temperatures climbed above forty, as they inevitably did, the dam heaved with splashing teenagers, the old grey gum providing an outstretched branch just the right height, just the right extension, to hang a thick swinging rope off from which kids would fling themselves into the cool embrace of the dam below.

  Pip never seemed to mind too much. It was his secondary dam, after all. As long as they stayed away from his sheep. Especially Bobbles, his prize ram. Every now and then, though, some idiot boy would try it on and bring Bobbles to the edge of the dam and the poor thing would start bleating, frightened out of its wits by the noise, and Pip would ban them all for the rest of summer. And they would all return two weeks later and Pip would watch them from the top of the hill, until he was certain they would behave. Until next time.

  Come summer, Pip’s dam would be crowded with sweaty teenagers trying to one-up each other with somersaults off the rope. But not today. On a mild August afternoon, it would be just them.

  ‘The fellas haven’t shut up about this place since I got here,’ Dean said as they got out of his car.

  ‘Only believe half of what you hear.’

  ‘Not even half.’ Dean nodded.

  Alice led him to the big, old gum and sat herself against its thick trunk. Stretching out his long legs, Dean lay on his side beside her, propped up on one elbow, his head tilted slightly. Alice wished he wouldn’t smile that way, the dimple in his left cheek deepening.

  ‘So I hear you’re a bit of a genius.’

  Alice grunted. ‘If only.’

  ‘Really? What would you do if you were?’ Dean asked, pulling himself up higher.

  Alice sighed. If only she were smarter, she’d have found a way out of her situation already, found a way to help her dad. ‘Achieve world peace, end famines.’ She shrugged. ‘The usual.’

  Dean sat up and hugged his legs. ‘I don’t know, being that smart might have its drawbacks.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well,’ he said, standing up and grabbing Alice’s hands, pulling her up too. ‘For one thing, if you were a genius, you’d be way too smart to go in on a day like today.’

  ‘Go in where?’

  Dean slipped off his shoes, took off his T-shirt and dared Alice with a wink.

  ‘You’re not serious!’

  ‘See.’ He smiled. ‘Too smart.’ He tapped her on the head. ‘Not smart enough.’ He hit himself on the chest and broke into a run. He leaped up and grabbed the rope, swung three times over the dam and let go with a Tarzan bellow as he flew across the top of the water.

  ‘You’re mad!’ Alice screamed at him, following him to the edge of the water.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ he called back, splashing her while trying unsuccessfully to hide the fact he was shivering. ‘But you’re probably too smart and sensible to do something this crazy . . . and fun.’

  ‘I know how to have fun.’ Alice stood with her hands on her hips.

  ‘Really?’ He splashed her again.

  Alice really wished he wouldn’t smile like that.

  She undid her trainers and took off her jeans. In her T-shirt and undies she grabbed on to the rope and pushed off from the bank of the dam.

  ‘Holy crap,’ she cried after she broke through the surface. ‘It’s freezing.’ She swam as quickly as she could to the edge and climbed out. ‘You really are mad.’

  Dean climbed out behind her. ‘Maybe. But you had fun, right?’

  ‘I’m not sure that’d be the word I’d use.’

  Dean bumped Alice to the side with his hip. ‘Then why are you grinning like a Cheshire cat?’

  Under the old grey gum in the setting afternoon sun, Alice and Dean sat. Alice in Dean’s dry T-shirt that she’d put on behind the tree, her soaking top laid out on the parched grass to dry. Dean, his bare torso covered in goosebumps belying the fact he swore he wasn’t cold.

  ‘What sort of business is your mum thinking about opening?’ Alice asked.

  ‘A quilt store,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘Or something like that. I think Dad’s a bit jealous she’s going to be just fine without him.’

  ‘They’re in touch?’

  ‘No. But I am. I think he was hoping that when we got out here she’d realise she needed him and go back to him.’

  Alice nodded. ‘Do you miss him?’ She knew what it was like to be one parent down.

  ‘Yeah. I guess. I’ll vi
sit him in the holidays.’

  ‘Have you figured out what you’re going to do next year?’

  ‘All about school with you, isn’t it?’ Dean shook his head. ‘Don’t you think about anything else?’

  ‘Only how not to catch pneumonia after jumping into a freezing dam.’

  He laughed. ‘And what about you? What are you going to study when you get to Sydney?’ he asked.

  ‘Law.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Dunno. You just don’t seem the lawyery type.’

  ‘Oh? And what is the lawyery type?’

  Dean shrugged. ‘Argumentative, know-all, stuck up . . . oh, hang on . . .’

  Alice threw a twig at his head and Dean laughed.

  ‘I just don’t think lawyer when I think of you.’

  ‘Well, maybe you should stop thinking of me,’ Alice said.

  Dean lifted his hand and brushed a stray brown strand off Alice’s face. ‘Can’t help it.’

  Alice stood up quickly and backed away. ‘Well.’ She paused. ‘I haven’t got the stomach to become a doctor or the talent to be a movie star, so lawyer it is.’ She’d done her research, looked into jobs that paid the most. She knew she had a head for facts, for remembering things. And lawyers, lawyers in Sydney, made a lot of money. And that was money that could save her dad.

  ‘But,’ Dean stood and stepped closer, ‘what about your passion? Doing something you love, something that gets you, you know, excited?’

  ‘I’ve never thought about . . .’ Alice could see the flecks of gold in Dean’s blue eyes. ‘I need to . . . There’s Louise.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘And Brian.’ Alice stepped to the side and waved as the twins got out of Brian’s ute. ‘Hey, Lou,’ she called, stepping further away from Dean.

  ‘You guys didn’t seriously go for a swim, did you?’ Louise asked as she walked over to them.

  ‘Hey, mate.’ Brian greeted Dean.

  ‘Hey.’

  They slapped each other on the back.

  ‘I can’t believe you went in.’ Louise cried. ‘You guys are nuts.’

  ‘Wanna give me a lift home?’ Alice asked.

  ‘What’s the rush? We just got here.’ Louise ran back to the ute and grabbed the old blanket from the tray and turned the radio up. ‘May as well enjoy the sunshine.’ She laid out the blanket and sat down. The two boys joined her.

  As she pushed her blonde hair behind her ears, Louise turned her attention to Dean.

  ‘How on earth did you get Miss Stick-in-the-mud here to jump in the dam? You must have some pretty powerful tools of persuasion. I love Pip’s dam. Come here all the time. We should come together some time. Have you been to Cutter’s Pass yet? Of course you have. Silly question. But have you been to the lookout? It’s not all that great, I suppose, but it’s about the best thing we’ve got going around here . . .’

  Alice sat silently behind Brian and let her best friend do all the talking. That’s how it always went: Louise front and centre, Alice in the shadows. And that was just fine by Alice. Every now and then she would turn her gaze from Louise to Dean and then look away again when his eyes met hers.

  *

  Brian dropped Alice home after Louise convinced Dean he absolutely couldn’t wait one more day before he saw the lookout. Alice made some sorry excuse about having an assignment due and asked Brian to drive her back. She was glad to be away from them. Away from Dean. He was dangerous. And there was no room in her plan for danger. No matter how cute his smile was. She was pretty sure Kylie Trainor was regretting falling for a cute smile that passed through town last cattle auction season right about now, ready to give birth at the age of fifteen. And for Wendy Dobson’s big sister, the smartest girl to ever attend Lawson High, falling for a cute smile from Cutter’s Pass had landed her with five kids and a caravan on her parents’ quarter acre and said cute smile shot through, unseen for the last six years. Cute smiles equalled danger and danger was best avoided. Alice was determined not to get trapped in Lawson’s Ridge.

  Alice’s dad was in his customary position stretched out on the sofa when she got inside. She pulled a blanket over him and threw out the empty cans. On the bench was a TAB slip. She scrunched it up and threw it out, too. No need to check it. If he’d won, he’d still be at the pub. She put a pot of water on to boil for pasta. Sundays were the only days she allowed herself to use the oven, to save electricity. She made enough pasta for the both of them and put her dad’s serve in the fridge so he could have it for breakfast.

  She pulled her pay packet out of her pocket and divided up the notes, laying out her contribution to rent money, groceries, electricity. She put a small amount into her secret hiding place in a shoebox at the back of her cupboard. It would stay there until it was needed for school or, she counted the days on her calendar, for pads. She only bought what was necessary and she never gave her dad any of it. He had the dole to pay for his essentials – his beer and his betting. Alice only spent what she had to. Ever so slowly, her escape fund was growing and she knew, deep down inside, her plan would succeed.

  Kookaburra Creek, 2018

  lice pushed the door to the bakery open. In all the years she’d known Joey, he’d never locked it after hours if he was inside. Even this early in the morning.

  ‘Morning, Alice.’ Joey stepped out into the shop from his kitchen. The heat inside was a welcome blast after the cool morning air. ‘What brings you by so early?’

  ‘I, well, I think maybe we should have a chat.’

  ‘At five in the morning? Must be serious. Why don’t you help me knead while we have this chat?’ He gestured to the kitchen behind him.

  Alice followed him and got to work mixing the wholemeal dough for his famous rolls. He’d taught her how years ago, and he’d taught her well.

  ‘Becca told me what happened with the plates.’

  He shrugged. ‘Girl’s got some issues.’

  ‘I know. But I sense something in her.’

  ‘Something of yourself?’

  Alice blushed at how close to the truth he was. ‘Maybe.’

  Joey stepped round the bench and took Alice’s floured hands. ‘Or someone else?’

  ‘You too?’ Alice cast her gaze down. It was foolish to think he wouldn’t be reminded of Tammy too.

  ‘Hard not to.’ Joey returned to his dough and started roping it into plaits. ‘Becca’s what, only a year or two older than she would’ve . . .’ his words faltered. ‘And those eyes . . . it’s uncanny, the resemblance.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Alice took a deep breath, the fragile scar reopened. ‘You understand why I couldn’t turn her away, right?’

  Joey stayed silent.

  ‘She appreciates you covering for her. Though it might be a while before she trusts any of us.’

  Joey shook his head. ‘Like I said, girl’s got issues. I can deal with it, though. Can you?’

  Alice had no words.

  ‘Miss Hattie was a bit funny when I walked her home last night.’ Joey said. Alice was grateful for the change in subject. ‘Anything going on?’

  ‘I wish I knew. Something’s not right, I know that much.’ She divided her dough balls.

  ‘Are you game enough to pry?’

  ‘No way. I like my head right where it is, thank you.’

  Joey handed her the canister of raisins and she started on the fruit loaf. He put the rolls and plaited loaves into the oven and when he came back to the bench Alice handed him the rolling pin that sat on the shelf below so he could start on the croissants.

  Every time they baked together she wished they could freeze time and stay there. No past. No future. Just the two of them, flour, ovens, no words needed. Then things might be okay between them again. But life didn’t work like that. They had a past, a painful one, and a fractured future, always in shadow.

  As the clock struck eight, Alice washed the flour from her hands. ‘I’d better get back to the café.’

  ‘Tha
nks for the hand.’ Joey passed her a tea towel. Their hands touched and Alice felt, just for a moment, a jolt of the magnetic force between them that was always just under the surface.

  ‘Of course.’ Alice stepped back.

  ‘Right.’ Joey brushed the flour off his apron. ‘You have a good day.’

  The week passed quietly and it was obvious Becca was becoming quite the kitchen hand. She’d already learned to throw together a good salad, didn’t need any help with the sandwiches, and had managed to cook over a dozen burgers without burning a single one. Alice was impressed. When she’d first tried, it had taken her quite a few goes to get the pan just right (hot enough, but not too hot) and the timing perfect. Back then she’d never made burgers before. She’d never made anything, really. She’d learned the knack of grilling a good patty the hard, charcoaled way. Becca seemed to be a natural cook.

  And that meant Alice had more time for baking. Earlier that morning Sylvia had told her to bake mini mixed-berry delights. Alice had left Becca to set up the dining room after she’d finished the morning’s prep and Alice had baked three dozen of the cute little things. As she’d poured berry coulis into the cream cheese frosting, spinning the electric mixing bowl, Alice had begun dancing around the room. She’d filled the piping bag and with each swirl atop each cupcake, the flourish of her wrist became more elaborate.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Becca had asked, catching her in the act.

  Alice had blushed. ‘Cooking is supposed to be fun.’

  ‘Oh . . . kay . . .’ Becca had backed out of the kitchen and got on with her next task.

  Alice knew she had to be more careful around Becca. The last thing she wanted was to scare her off.

  Later that evening, they sat in the soft glow of the living room lamp. Alice snuggled in to her old sofa and looked at Becca sitting on the floor. ‘You did great today,’ she said.