The Cafe by the Bridge Page 16

‘We should do something before you go.’ He cocked his eye at the shoe collection he could see in the corner. There were a lot of sparkles, boots and heels. ‘Have you got any walking shoes with you? Comfortable shoes? Hiking boots? I’m thinking I should show you some sights.’

  ‘Didn’t we see sights already?’

  ‘More sights. The Granite Skywalk.’

  ‘I don’t have any hiking boots. I didn’t plan on doing much hiking. I’ve got the shoes I’ve worn at the café those times I’ve helped you out. They’re comfortable.’

  ‘The Dalmatian-print ones?’

  ‘They’re Rollies. They’re comfortable shoes. They’d be fine.’

  Hmm. ‘Do you mind if they get a bit muddy?’

  ‘How muddy is muddy?’

  ‘I’m not sure. We haven’t had a heap of rain, but it could still be a bit slushy. I could carry you over the worst bits.’

  ‘I’m not sure I like the sound of these worst bits.’ She lowered her head and he enjoyed the warm tickle of her hair on his skin. ‘What sort of walk are we talking? On a scale of “you could push a pram on it” to, say … “climbing Everest”.’

  Putting Taylor and climbing Everest together in a sentence made him smile.

  ‘Kids climb up the Skywalk. Seven-, eight-year-olds. Older people have been in the café and they’ve made it to the top.’

  ‘How old?’

  He shrugged. ‘Sixty?’

  ‘I’m not six or sixty, but I’m not really much of a hiker.’ She sounded doubtful, and he suddenly really wanted her to say she’d do it—climb the Granite Skywalk with him—but he didn’t want to push her.

  ‘I need to leave enough time tomorrow to clean the place up for Ella,’ she said, considering it. ‘Hey, is there a place in town that does flowers?’

  ‘There are a heap of natives in flower in the garden out at the farm right now. Or if natives aren’t your thing, Mum’s garden still has some daffodils in flower. You could come out and put a bouquet together. You can see our place, too, while you’re at it. If you want. We can do all that and go on this hike and you’ll still have plenty of time so you’re not on the road too late.’

  ‘I liked it better when you called this hike a walk.’

  ‘Walk then. It’s an uphill walk to something absolutely spectacular that you’ll never, ever forget. And I’ll help you. I won’t leave you behind.’

  She sighed. ‘Okay. I’ll go hiking with you, Abe. I can’t promise to be great at it and I’ll definitely complain if my legs hurt.’

  She’d been tangling her fingers in his chest hairs, but now her hand angled lower, skimming his stomach, cupping his balls, making him groan. She played with him for a bit, massaging, weighing.

  ‘Do you know what I really love about your balls?’ she murmured, planting a kiss on his collarbone.

  He was already smiling. ‘Yes. I reckon I do.’

  ‘They’re round.’

  CHAPTER

  20

  Breakfast knocked Taylor’s socks off.

  Somehow, before she’d even opened her eyelids and thought, bugger, it’s Monday, Abe had been into the Chalk Hill bakery and returned with a crusty sourdough loaf. Taylor stumbled from the bedroom to find thick chunks of lightly toasted sourdough topped with a spread of avocado, chopped cherry tomatoes and feta with cracked black pepper and a sprinkle of lemon juice.

  That, plus coffee.

  ‘Aha. I knew you couldn’t produce a breakfast like this without cheating. You’ve been into the café already!’ The takeaway cup from Chalk ’n’ Cheese was a dead giveaway.

  Abe touched his chest as if to say, me? ‘I wanted to pack a few things for a picnic today. I can’t have you starving before we get to the top.’

  ‘If you keep saying top like it really is Everest, I’ll go back to bed and call the whole thing off.’

  ‘It’s not Everest. But you’ll need nourishment.’ He started loading a backpack with fruit, bottles and ready-wrapped things in paper bags.

  Taylor sat at the breakfast table in her leggings and t-shirt, looking nowhere near as hip as him in his jeans. He was getting the whole raw Taylor Woods experience this morning … she hadn’t even brushed her hair, and she wasn’t wearing a shred of make-up, which meant she’d be a blotchy mess with bed-hair and morning breath.

  She picked up the café re-use cup and took a sip, let out a contented sigh and reached for her toast.

  ‘A girl could get used to this.’

  ‘Good?’ Abe said, eyes on her. He didn’t seem to mind the raw experience.

  ‘Great,’ she mumbled around her mouthful.

  ‘You need your energy for today, so eat up. And not that I wanna rush you or anything, but we need to get a move on. I’ll strip the sheets and throw them in the machine. I’ll clean up the kitchen, you can do the bathroom.’

  ‘You don’t have to clean up.’

  ‘It’s cool.’ He shepherded sourdough crumbs off the counter into his hand. ‘I made half the mess.’

  He cooked. He cleaned. He was delightful in bed. He liked her hat. ‘It’s starting to scare me how much I could get used to having you around, Chef.’

  * * *

  The first twenty minutes to the Granite Skywalk were quite pleasant, not too Everest-y at all.

  It was a beautiful day, not too hot, not wet or boggy. Not too many people overtook them in the same direction, so she can’t have been walking too slow, and Taylor only needed to stop for a rest and a drink of water once, after they’d come up out of the first of the steeper sections.

  ‘This isn’t too hard,’ she said to Abe, screwing the lid back on her water bottle. ‘This is nice. I don’t know why you made such a fuss about it. I’m having fun.’

  ‘Good,’ Abe said. He was standing a few feet from her in a small cut-out off the track, where they could stop without holding up other hikers. ‘Ready to keep going?’

  ‘Sure.’ Next thing I’ll be buying active wear.

  She tucked her water bottle in Abe’s pack. The backpack looked heavy but he’d insisted on carrying it, and she wasn’t going to argue.

  Abe led the way and Taylor squared her shoulders, put her head down and followed.

  The trick to this hiking thing was to ask Abe questions that required lots of detailed response. That way she could puff and pant and conserve her breath as much as possible while Abe answered.

  She asked more about his plans for the café and about his parents, and a bit more about Jake and Ella. It was so romantic how those two met: Jake’s bird escaping from the farmhouse and flying into Chalk Hill to the house where the bird always lived, Abe’s nanna’s house that was now Abe’s café.

  ‘Ella was at Nanna’s house cleaning up for the first Home Open and that’s when she found Percy, or Percy found her. She posted a picture of the bird on Facebook and Jake showed up and there was Ella and Sam. The rest, as they say, is history.’

  Abe held out his hand to help her scramble up a section where the path narrowed and they had to find footholds in rock.

  Had that ache in her thighs been there while they’d stopped for that drink earlier? She didn’t think so.

  Puff.

  A man and a teenage boy appeared before them, coming down. The kid was nimble as a mountain goat.

  ‘Keep going. You’ll get there,’ the man encouraged Taylor as they passed.

  Pant.

  ‘How long have we been walking, Abe?’

  He checked his watch. ‘About forty minutes.’

  ‘How long did you think it will take to reach the top?’

  ‘Depending on how many stops we have and how fast those little legs of yours can climb … maybe two hours.’

  Trees pressed in around them like a green womb. She couldn’t see beyond the trees. The only way to see the sky was to tilt her head right, right back and then she saw tiny patches of blue between all the green.

  Puff. Her feet hurt.

  ‘I think I need another drink.’

  Abe st
opped instantly and undid his pack, handing her the bottle. ‘Not too much. Just a few sips. You don’t want a stomach ache.’

  ‘No. Course not. Why make my stomach ache along with everything else?’

  ‘You’re doing great. It’ll be worth it when we get to the top.’

  She tilted her head and took a few small sips, washed the liquid around her mouth and screwed the lid back on before handing the bottle to Abe.

  Pant.

  ‘The problem with this track is, it only goes one way, up.’

  ‘It is called the Skywalk,’ Abe said mildly.

  A couple dressed in active wear and hiking boots bounded up the track behind them. Taylor and Abe shrank into the trees to let them pass.

  ‘Show-offs,’ Taylor whispered when they’d gone.

  ‘Come on, Doc. We’ll do this at your pace. You’re doing great.’

  And off they went again.

  ‘There is one good thing about this,’ Taylor said, as Abe put his shoe into a crevice of stone and delayed there, so she could see where he’d put his foot.

  ‘What’s that?’

  She reached up and patted the curve of his arse, all bunched tight in his shorts. ‘The view is pretty awesome.’

  ‘You’re not talking about the scenery, are you?’

  ‘The scenery’s good too.’ She giggled.

  ‘Great.’ Abe stretched out his arm to help her up. ‘You’re delirious.’

  * * *

  ‘But I’ll ruin my shoes!’

  Should they stop? Should he let her turn around?

  Abe had known the shoes were a problem right back when he’d watched her lace them in Ella’s guestroom this morning. He hadn’t said anything because he didn’t want to put her off before they’d even started.

  If he could keep her going they were probably twenty minutes from the top. So close. It’d be such a bugger if they turned back now.

  The last hour had got steadily steeper, harder and boggier. So far in the bigger mud patches there’d always been a rock sitting above the sludge like a crocodile’s snout, something to put a shoe on and push off and find a path without sinking.

  ‘Not much farther,’ a kindly man said as he came through the bog hole. His eyes slipped to Taylor’s shoes.

  Dalmatian-print Rollies on the Granite Skywalk were always going to stand out from the Adidas crowd.

  ‘It’s really worth it.’ The woman with him patted Taylor’s arm. ‘I promise.’

  She checked out Taylor’s feet too, and as the two of them kept walking, the man began to whistle.

  ‘Give it a minute. Catch your breath,’ Abe said.

  Taylor put her hands on her knees, bending over. ‘I don’t have any breath.’

  ‘Wait there.’ Abe held his hands out to her, palms down, patting towards the boggy ground. ‘I’ll be back.’

  He surveyed the patch before him. Most of the footprints were on the left. There were mud-covered rocks on the right with that slippery sheen to them, but they were at least mostly dry. There was a hefty distance between the rock sections though. Too long for Taylor’s shorter legs.

  Abe leaped from rock to rock. He slipped once, recovered, and got to the end without too much trouble. He shrugged his backpack from his shoulders and pushed it into some scrub at the side of the track. Then he turned back.

  Taylor’s eyes were huge. Her fingers played with the two loose sleeves of the shirt she’d tied around her waist.

  Abe stopped in front of her, turned and bent his legs and back. ‘Hop on.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Jump on. I’ll carry you.’ He didn’t look at her because he knew he’d laugh, and she’d never climb on his back if he laughed at her.

  He wasn’t laughing at her. But she was funny. Cute. Gorgeous.

  And she had the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen, creamy, soft pillows spilling above that tank top.

  ‘You’re over-thinking it. Jump on, Doc.’

  ‘You’ll have to bend lower,’ she grumbled.

  Abe bit his lip to hide his smile and stooped lower. She slung her arms around his neck, jumped and he stood straight, adjusting to the warm koala on his back.

  ‘I know I only just met you, but I think I might love you, Abel Honeychurch,’ she muttered, close to his ear, making him smile as he aimed for the first rock that would take them across the bog.

  ‘Think you might? Let me know when you’re sure.’

  * * *

  ‘We’re nearly there,’ Abe encouraged.

  ‘You’ve been saying that for hours.’

  ‘I know. But we’re nearly there. Look!’

  He pointed.

  It sucked being short. She really couldn’t see anything except more trees. And then, miraculously, a massive grey granite boulder and (oh my God) blue sky.

  ‘Is that the sky?’

  ‘It’s the sky. We’re at the top.’

  She wanted to cry.

  Everything hurt. Everything. Even her lungs. Even those teeny tiny airways inside her lungs. Bronchii, or whatever you called them.

  Even they hurt.

  ‘Come on.’ Abe gave her yet another boost, and she toddled forward on legs that really weren’t even there anymore. Her legs were back on the track under a tree. She’d left them behind about an hour ago.

  Finally the endless trees, well, they ended and she was in an open area of rock. Above her a steel ladder had been bolted vertically into the rock, climbing towards a viewing platform and hordes of people.

  All those people who had jogged up the mountain all stopped now, admiring the view, taking selfies, posing for photos.

  A sign post said Viewing Platform: Easy with an arrow leading left. The other sign said Granite Skywalk, with a warning that the last climb was more difficult and required moderate fitness levels and agility and wasn’t suitable for children under ten.

  ‘Please can we go to the easy part,’ Taylor begged Abe. ‘I seriously do not want to do anything they’re labelling difficult.’

  ‘Of course we can go easy. You did all the hard part.’

  She did. She had. She’d done it.

  Finally, Taylor let herself take a look around.

  It was magic.

  They were at the highest point of the Porongurups, and even though the steel ladder climbed even higher, the view was amazing right here where she was, thank you very much. All around them stretched pockets of grey-green trees, heath and brush stippled with yellow and red flowers, and way below them were square-shaped paddocks—some green, some browning off—patched with daffodil-yellow canola.

  The air was so clear.

  Abe moved off through a track that skirted the base of the granite outcrop. Taylor followed, and about a minute later they reached the viewing platform.

  There were seats.

  Seats!

  ‘I’m just gonna put myself here for a bit,’ she said, lowering her butt to the bench and letting out a huge sigh.

  She would have liked to take her shoes off but didn’t dare. She’d never want to put them on again. It was hard to tell what was Dalmatian spots and what was mud. It was all the same.

  Abe put the backpack behind her, nudged it between the bench seat and the rails, and he searched through it and came out with the two drink bottles and his phone.

  Taylor drank sparingly. The water was warm from two hours pressed against Abe’s body.

  ‘Come on, Doc.’ He smiled at her, indicating his phone, and Taylor dragged herself to her feet because he was pretty much irresistible with that breeze blowing through his hair, and if he’d suggested they leap the rail to get a selfie against the bright yellow flower backdrop far below, she’d probably have done her best impression of an Olympic hurdler.

  He put his arm around her shoulders and snuggled her close, stretching out his arm and the phone to take the picture.

  They checked the image together.

  He was gorgeous. Of course. She’d only just caught her breath again, and looking at A
be stole it away in a single, lone, hitch.

  On the other hand, she looked like she’d been mugged by King Kong. A streaky bit of red fringe stuck out at a right angle, as if it was growing out the side of her ear. The rest of her hair was squished under the sports cap she’d stolen from the back of Ella’s laundry door. Most of the top part of her face was covered by her sunglasses, but they didn’t hide the dirty streaks of tears and dust she’d scrubbed on her cheeks during the climb, and they couldn’t hide the red blotches of exertion on her nose, chin, forehead or throat.

  All that said, had she ever seen a happier photo of herself?

  Taylor turned into the quiet space at Abe’s shoulder, where his body sheltered her from the wind. From there, she got to her tiptoes—feet stinging—and she got her mouth close to Abe’s jaw where the wind wouldn’t wash her words away.

  ‘Thank you for bringing me up here. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure,’ he said, touching her cheek with his finger. ‘I owed you.’

  ‘You don’t owe me. What for?’

  His eyes slid away before returning to hers. ‘I haven’t been in a great place for a while now, and this last week with you … does it sound too corny to say you’ve made me want to get out of bed again in the morning?’

  ‘It’s not corny at all. It’s nice.’

  ‘Just last week Ella said to me I should come up the Skywalk with her and Jake if they did it with Sam in the school holidays, and I blew her off. I couldn’t have cared less. Climbing up here was the last thing I felt like doing. I was so flat.’

  He called it flat. She called it depressed. ‘How long had you been flat?’

  ‘A few weeks. A couple of months, maybe. Not all the time.’

  ‘If you feel … flat for more than two weeks, it’s a pretty reliable marker that it’s time to get help,’ she said. ‘I really think you should talk with someone, Abe.’

  ‘I’m talking to you.’

  ‘I know. And you’re welcome to talk to me, but it’s not really the same. You’ve got to watch out for yourself, you know? You might kick on right out of this flat spot now and be fine … but you might find tomorrow morning, or Wednesday, or Thursday, you don’t want to get out of bed again. We all have days like that—it’s perfectly normal—but when it becomes a few weeks of feeling like that you have to ask for help. Okay?’