AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She wandered back to where there were a few random and mismatched tables and chairs with some comfy sofas scattered around to find Peter holding a mug and searching the store. ‘Oh, that must be me, thank you.’
He held onto the cup tightly and regarded her with a tense expression. ‘Um, this is a cappuccino.’ He turned back to Sheila who was busy at the coffee machine grinding beans and frothing milk for the next drink.
‘What sort of coffee did you order, dear?’ Peter spoke to her as if they hadn’t met. ‘Um, a cappuccino.’
Peter checked the coffee he was holding. ‘Oh, yes, this is a cappuccino. But, I’m …’ He hurried back to Sheila’s side.
They returned together, Sheila holding the mug. ‘Sit here, Ava.’ She was seated at the closest laminate table with an old vinyl seat, then Sheila addressed Peter. ‘Peter, this is Ava, she is living at the house on Kinross Road, remember, you drove her to school on the bus?’
Ava watched as his vision cleared, his eyes going from foggy and inert, to alive and present.
Sheila leaned in. ‘Dementia,’ she said quietly.
Oh. But the old Peter was back, chatty and lively. ‘I remember the old guy that used to own that place. Do you remember him?’
‘Um, no, but I’d love to learn more.’ she said instead.
Her eager response pleased Peter. Over her shoulder Sheila called out. ‘His long-term memory is perfect!’ The words were light-hearted and spoken in jest, but Sheila’s smile was tight and the expression on her face spelled heartache, all the while pulling another coffee, accepting another order and supervising customers in the shop. Ava didn’t know whether it was a help or a hindrance that Peter sat with her, talking.
‘Well, you know about the history of the area and its returned servicemen?’
‘No, I don’t but I should.’
‘So much history!’ Peter became excited and his voice animated. Peter reminded Ava of her father, of the man who had shared his own love of history and of what had become their shared passion.
‘The region offered to home returned servicemen from World War I. It was a scheme developed by the government of the day. Upon their return from the war, these men could choose to live here and they were provided with land and housing. It was a win-win, of course. Our regional area benefited with a greater population and increased productivity because they were encouraged to farm, plant orchards and the like. The heritage centre has lots of information about that, you should pay it a visit. It’s very interesting,’ he added. ‘Plus, each year we celebrate an annual Bastille Day festival in their memory.’
Ava quickly made the connections. The names of the nearby towns where the soldiers were resettled had the names of the French battlefields, she’d noticed that, and now the famous French festival was connected as well. She got it.
‘I do know that your house was part of the scheme. The solider, I think his name was Edwards, he died in the early seventies, I think, but the house went to his son. Sad story, the son was married and had children but they died in an accident. He lived there alone for many years after, became a bit of a recluse. But one thing I remember is that his father was a blacksmith and the son became a blacksmith too. And in his later years, he made the most beautiful silver and opal jewellery.’
Opal?
‘Was he the last owner?’
‘Yes, when he died, oh, quite a few years ago now, the house was left to a distant relative but they never lived there or took any interest in the property. It sat empty for years until it was put on the market. And now it’s yours, of course.’
‘Hello, Peter, how are you?’ A loud voice boomed, and a firm hand landed on his shoulder. He flinched. The lady didn’t remove her hand and waited what seemed like an eternity to Ava. ‘It’s Jacqueline, Peter,’ and she beamed a smile at him until recognition dawned in his eyes and he jumped up and offered a kiss to her cheek and they embraced each other.
Releasing Jaqueline, he went to introduce Ava. ‘And this lovely young lady is…she is staying at…’ His face clouded in and his eyes went downcast.
Ava jumped up. ‘I’m Ava Montgomery, recently moved into the old place on Kinross Road.’
Jacqueline beamed the most dazzling smile in her direction then, and Ava felt enveloped in its warmth. ‘How wonderful. I’ve heard of your arrival and have been meaning to meet you. I am Jacqueline Kennedy, the mayor of Bellethorpe.’ The mayor spoke as if she held a loudspeaker and her voice boomed through, loud and confident. She was dressed in casual corporate wear with slim-legged white pants and court high heels that extenuated her height. Layering her pale blue cotton top, was a flamboyantly multi-coloured scarf.
‘Ava?’ The woman with Jacqueline spoke up.
‘Bec?’
‘I thought it was you.’ She leaned in, Ava presumed for the double-cheek kiss, but she instinctively stepped back. It was a mistake. Bec stalled, uncertain.
Ava went to twirl the ring on her finger. Damn it! She’d never get used to a bare ring finger.
‘Bec! It’s so lovely to see you.’ Ava touched her on the arm.
‘You know each other?’ Jacqueline enquired.
‘We went to school together … were best friends,’ Bec informed her.
