Janey was waiting at the counter when she’d finished serving them. ‘We’ve got new neighbours, and one of your picnic hampers would make the perfect welcome gift. Can you recommend something?’
‘Absolutely,’ Clem said, talking her through the most popular options and different prices. ‘I could slip in a note, so they know it’s all made with locally grown produce?’
‘Yes! And maybe some of our favourite apple slice?’
‘Not a problem,’ Clem said, jotting down the order. ‘Though if their tastes run more savoury or they’ve got dietary requirements, you might be safer with some fresh Royal Galas and pears, a selection of local cheeses, and prosciutto from the Berkshire farm out of Beachport.’
Janey tapped her chin thoughtfully. ‘Tell you what, I’ll take a larger hamper with all of those things. Make sure you add a few business cards so they know where to come for the best coffee in town.’
It didn’t take Clem long to put the hamper together, and soon Janey was on her way, walking out with not only the picnic hamper, but a carton of eggs from Buster’s Happy Hen Farm and a kilo of windfall quinces for her family. The cheerful chatter of Janey and her friends echoed back into the cafe as they walked through the car park.
Sebastian gave a low whistle. ‘Here’s hoping her new neighbours become regulars too,’ he said. ‘We could do with some more high rollers. What do you have planned for that carrot cake in the kitchen? I can write up a menu card for the display cabinet?’
‘Don’t touch that,’ Clem said quickly. ‘I’m going to a friend’s tonight and she loves carrot cake.’
‘No wonder you’re invited to parties all the time, showing up with double-decker cakes like that. I’m bracing myself for another night of two-minute noodles and scrubbing out animal cages for my folks. Not much of a social life.’
Clem laughed at his envious tone. She didn’t have the heart to tell her young employee that after a busy day at the cafe,she would have preferred an early night on the couch, her aching feet propped up on a pillow, watching Disney movies with her daughters Harriet and Indi. But if life had taught her anything, it was that good fortune, great customers and fabulous friends didn’t happen by accident.
‘See you tomorrow, Mr Hawkins!’
‘Don’t forget the Caramello Koalas.’
Spencer Hawkins gave the pair of Year 11s a thumbs-up as they strode past the lockers, backpacks over their shoulders, tossing a football between them.
‘They’ll be ready and waiting, guys—and they’ll taste better than ever when you’ve finished your English exam. Don’t stay up too late studying.’ He grinned, knowing the pair were more likely to be out kicking the footy until dark than labouring over exam rubrics before the mid-term assessments.
As their laughter echoed around the empty hallways, Spencer looked at his watch. Half an hour until the staff meeting; not quite long enough to get stuck into marking, but time enough for an inbox review, or a dose of fresh air before the autumn storms kicked up a notch.
Choosing the latter, he grabbed the leash from his top drawer. The familiar sound woke the beagle curled up underneath his desk.
‘Just a quick stroll, Dolly,’ he said, slipping a jacket over her white-and-tan coat. Although she was officially a classroom wellbeing dog, his beagle was as well-loved among the teaching fraternity as she was by the students who attended Penwarra Area School.
Outside, the rain that had been threatening all week felt imminent, and he hoped, for the sake of the local farmers, that the storm clouds would deliver on their promise. Birdshuddled under the eaves of the school’s generous verandahs, sheltering from the wind, just like the new lambs would be doing at South Giddi Giddi, the property he’d called home for the last eight years.
Spencer let Dolly roam towards the front entrance, rescuing a forgotten flag whipping wildly in the wind. He folded the school flag, whistled Dolly up, and made for the front office.
‘I knew I was forgetting something after bus duty this arvo. Thanks, Spencer.’ Mia Angelino rubbed her back, and he tried to remember how far along his best mate’s wife was. Halfway through? He knew it was a detail he should have remembered, but in the rush of mid-term madness, it was one detail too many to recall at short notice.
‘Tipping you’re not heading down the pub after the staff meeting?’ he asked, watching her cover a yawn. ‘If we get out before midnight, that is.’
Mia laughed and stole a look over her shoulder. ‘Spoken like someone who’s taught for far too long. You’re right on both accounts—staff meetings go for an inordinate amount of time, and no, I won’t be going to the pub. But I’ve got a good excuse tonight, just as you do.’
‘I do?’
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘Jeff and Reggie’s birthdays? You RSVP’d on the weekend. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already. I’m supposed to be the one with the baby brain around here!’
Spencer nodded quickly, but it wasn’t enough to fool Mia.
‘Anyone would think you had more pressing issues on your mind,’ she joked. ‘I’d be just as maxed out if I had seven weeks of long service leave looming. You’re coming though, right? You know Jeff’ll be bummed if you’re not there and he’s stuck hanging out with his parents and my mates.’
Spencer paused, biting back the question on the tip of his tongue. Mia’s friends were nice enough, but it was timeslike this when he regretted keeping his own friendship circle so small.
‘So just Hazel and um, Clem? Jeff hasn’t rounded up anyone else?’
‘As if you have to ask.’ Mia shot him an incredulous look. ‘You and Jeff are like Batman and Robin, Starsky and Hutch—and, when you’ve both had a few too many, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I’m always telling him to throw out a few more invites, heaven knows we’ve got plenty of food. Some of the grad teachers might make an appearance though. Jeff reeled a whopping gummy shark off the beach last weekend, it could feed the entire staffroom, and Aggie’s made those kourabiedes you love.’
‘The little donuts with nuts on top?’
