Chapters (50)
- Cover
- About the Book
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by Sandie Docker
- Book Club Questions
- Welcome to the Kookaburra Creek Café
- Prologue
- One
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The three-tiered cupcake stand on the counter was Alice’s very favourite thing in the room. After the photo of Sylvia, her favourite thing in the whole café. In itself it was nothing special – plain white ceramic that you could probably pick up in any homeware store in any town. But it was the same stand she’d displayed her first batch of cakes on and each batch since, and she always felt such pride every time she loaded the tiers with creations she’d made on her own from scratch.
This particular morning was different, though. Her hands were unsteady as she arranged the strawberry and white chocolate cakes. She shook her head. Stop being so silly. It was a coincidence, that’s all. How could Sylvia possibly have known the significance of strawberry and white chocolate and that night so very long ago? She was an inanimate object, for goodness’ sake. And how could she possibly have known the girl with Dean McRae’s eyes would be in Alice’s pantry that same morning? She couldn’t have. That’s right.
‘They look good.’ A deep voice startled Alice from her thoughts of the past and she dropped the last cupcake, frosting down, on her bright blue bench. ‘Sorry, Alice. I’ll take that one with my coffee.’
‘Good morning, Joey. The usual?’ she asked, handing him the double espresso she’d started making before he’d even turned up.
Monday was Joey’s only day off from his bakery, and at 9 a.m. Mrs Harris, the reverend’s wife, started her shift in Moretti’s Bread House. Every Monday Joey then made the walk to the Kookaburra Creek Café and 9.06 on the dot he arrived for his double espresso and cupcake after a long morning baking.
‘I got your text. Here are those loaves you wanted.’ He put one white, one wholemeal and one tomato and olive loaf on the bench. ‘What happened this time?’ He asked fondly. ‘Or do you finally concede your bread will never be as good as mine?’
‘Haha. I just, um … I forgot to set the timer. Silly me.’ Alice couldn’t tell him the truth. He’d only worry if he found out the café had been broken into.
Joey shook his head. ‘How long have we known each other, Alice? I can always tell when you’re lying. Something’s got you rattled.’
He reached across the bench and took her hand, his gentle touch warm, yet hesitant. Still. After all these years.
She started to tug her hand away and he immediately released it, frowning.
‘I’d better head.’ He nodded and Alice watched him leave. His old dog, Shadow, waited patiently at the bottom of the deck, big eyes staring up, ever hopeful Alice would let him back into the place he once knew as home. But she couldn’t.