Another huff came from inside the bathroom, but after blowing her nose and flushing the loo, Selina brushed past Clem with a muffled ‘thanks’ and started on the dishes.
‘Orders are up,’ Kev called.
The Brealys had moved to the deck, soaking up a patch of winter sunshine.
‘Do you want the heaters on? They only take a moment to heat up.’ Clem sat the coffees and almond biscuits on Ian and Louisa’s table.
‘Goodness no,’ Louisa said, waving away the crocheted lap rug Clem offered. ‘Anyone who needs blankets and heaters on a sunny day like this has no idea what cold is. After twenty-two Canadian winters, I thought the Limestone Coast was positively balmy when we moved here. Crazy as it is, the older I get, themore I miss it. There’s something special about waking up to the snow-blanketed mornings.’
‘For the first week or so,’ Ian joked, putting a hand over his wife’s. ‘Until the snow plough does a motor and you’re back to hand-shovelling driveways and towing one another out of snowdrifts.’
Clem smiled. Their gentle banter was as reliable as the magpies that gathered by the kitchen door for milk soaked-bread at the end of each shift.
‘Maybe we covet the memories, and feel drawn back to our hometowns as we get older. Do you feel the city calling you as the years pass, Clem?’
‘Not a chance.’ Clem pulled a clean cloth from her apron pocket and brushed a crumb from the table. ‘This always felt like more of a home to me. If anything, the older I get, the more I see value in a good community, and a small circle of friends I love and trust. The people most important to me are all here, I’ve sunk everything I’ve got into this business and until the girls are in their university era, I don’t want to move a millimetre.’
Ian and Louisa exchanged a look. ‘You never know, a charming tourist might pull up on his bicycle for a coffee, or a cave diver could drip his way in for brunch and whisk you off your feet.’
‘Not likely.’ Clem laughed.
‘Where’s your imagination?’ Louisa grinned, her eyes twinkling.
‘Well, this mysterious charmer had better be prepared to trade his number plates for South Aussie ones, and strap in for a whirlwind life with two spirited young girls and a hot mess of a cafe owner.’
As if on cue, a bicycle bell tinkled and they turned in unison to see a group of cyclists in top-to-toe lycra file intothe car park. Clem averted her gaze as a heavy-set gentleman tucked his cycling shirt back over his generous belly and proceeded to stretch his hamstrings in a way that left little to the imagination.
‘Think I’m safe for a while yet.’ Clem grinned, making for the new customers. Once they were settled at an inside table, close to the fire, and it was clear Sebastian had the cafe floor under control, she checked on the kitchen.
Kev gave a quiet nod, confirming things were fine there too. Selina wasn’t singing as she scrubbed the pots and pans, but she wasn’t scowling or scaring off paying customers either.
Equilibrium restored.
Clem eased out a relieved breath and stepped into the office nook off the kitchen. After printing off the new employee paperwork, she went over the latest coffee machine quote.
While Jean hadn’t skimped on quality, the cost of parts and labour to repair the van’s faithful old coffee machine were almost as much as a smaller, cheaper model, and if the service technician’s work was anything like his reply, she’d be waiting a while.
Clem tapped the pen against her chin, chewing her lower lip. Now that she’d hired Selina, a brand-new whiz-bang coffee machine was out of the question. She opened the browser windows she’d bookmarked late last night, reviewing the second-hand catering store she’d found in Adelaide.
Only three of the available models were within her budget, but reviews from previous customers suggested they were as reliable as the brand Jean had favoured. And with Jack in the city this Friday on police business, at least she wouldn’t need to foot the bill for freight.The quicker you get the coffee machine sorted, the quicker it can start earning money.
Spencer adjusted the knot on his tie and ran a hand down the front of his shirt, listening to the Sydney traffic buzz past on the four-lane highways below. Even from twenty-three floors up in this mega ritzy skyscraper hotel, the hustle and bustle assaulted his ears, but there was comfort in knowing this was the final hurdle.
One last day of filming, one last decision and he’d be free to start the next chapter of his life.
Make the right choice.
He parted the curtains, peering out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Sydney Harbour Bridge twinkling in the late June evening. He thought about Madeleine, who had been gracious about finishing in third place. Was she back working on the oil rigs off Western Australia already, or had the program been the push she needed to reconnect with her family in the UK?
Somewhere out there in the darkness was the townhouse Kyra had taken him to, where he’d sat around a table with her parents and best friends, in a two-way interview that was as awkward for him as it was them.
Kyra’s home was worlds away from the palatial house the Brewington-Majors owned, with their orchards visible from nearly every aspect, and the underfloor heating that was almost as warm as the dinner-table discussion.
After the home visits last week, Emily had been the clear frontrunner. Tonight, he’d choose her at the commitment ceremony, and tomorrow they’d board a plane and be back in South Giddi Giddi by nightfall.
Ready to start a new chapter together.
No cameras, no crew, no cast.
