for her and had made a lunge for her feet as she ran past.
‘Rex, you brat!’ Eva roared, hopping on one foot. She could still hear Meg’s voice, weirdly amplified through the speaker on the answering machine. ‘Sorry, Evie, I hope I haven’t ruined everything, I don’t even know what time it is there, but I had to talk to you before Ambrose did, anyway, so, uhm …’ Another sob.
Eva limped the last few metres and snatched up the phone. ‘Meg, I’m here, don’t hang up, it’s me, Evie. What on earth is wrong? Are you okay?’
It took Meg a few tries to speak again. ‘There was an accident at the shop this morning,’ she finally managed to say. ‘I’ve only just got home. We’ve been trying to clean up all day.’
‘What? Meg, for God’s sake, what’s happened? Is Ambrose all right?’
‘He’s fine. No-one was hurt. Just the back of the shop.’ Meg was in tears again. ‘And it was all my fault, Evie.’
Eva coaxed the whole story out of her. Meg had helped Ambrose tidy the storeroom several days previously, getting completely dirty in the process. Ambrose had suggested she tidy herself up in the spare bathroom upstairs above the back of the shop. So she had, filling up the basin and washing the dirt off as best she could. Then she’d heard Ambrose’s call for help with a sudden rush of customers and
had hurried back downstairs. ‘And that’s when it started, Evie.’ She was in tears again.
‘What started, Meg?’
‘I mustn’t have turned the bathroom tap off properly. Or taken the plug out. And I just forgot all about it.’
Eva shut her eyes. Oh God. She knew that Ambrose only ever used the front stairs to his flat. He wouldn’t have noticed the water. There was a staff washroom downstairs too, so Meg wouldn’t have needed to go upstairs again either. Which meant…
Meg’s next words confirmed her thoughts. ‘So the tap just kept on dripping and the basin overflowed and then the floor flooded and the water ran into the ceiling, the plumber thinks. For days. Until it all got too waterlogged and a whole section of it just collapsed.’
‘And Ambrose’s flat? How badly was it damaged?’
Meg sobbed. ‘That’s okay, they think. It’s the bathroom and the back of the shop that are completely ruined.’
Eva soothed her as well as she could from this distance, her mind working furiously even as she spoke lots of calming words. Oh, poor Ambrose. This would be the last thing he needed. There was nothing else for it. She’d have to cut short her trip and go home and help him clean up.
‘Listen, Meggie, don’t worry about it. It was an
accident, do you hear me? I’m sure Ambrose understands that. I’ll give him a ring now and see how things are with him. All right now? Don’t worry, I mean it, I’ll sort it all out with him.’
‘What will you do?’
‘I’ll come back and give you a hand clearing up, of course. And don’t worry, I’ve had a great holiday already, I don’t mind a bit.’
There was a long sniff from Meg. Eva guessed that was exactly what Meg had hoped she’d say. The poor thing, she was only a baby really. And Ambrose could sometimes seem much scarier than he was.
‘Go on, Meggie, go and make yourself a cup of tea, and I’ll ring Ambrose at home now and talk to him about it. And I’ll see you soon, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Meg answered in a small voice.
Eva made herself a strong cup of coffee to wake herself up completely before she rang Ambrose. Her thoughts were tumbling. Did she mind about going back to Dublin so quickly?
She realised she did. She wasn’t ready to go home yet. She liked what was happening here. Seeing Lainey. The fun of being Niamh. Being at Four Quarters. Meeting Greg. Meeting Joe. She didn’t want to leave Melbourne yet, but she couldn’t leave Ambrose to clean up a mess like that himself. She’d have to go back.
Trying to ignore Rex, who was prancing around on the top of the sofa and making little forays up and
down the curtains, she picked up the phone again and rang Ambrose’s number.
‘Come back to Dublin? Cut short your holiday? Are you mad, Eva?’
‘But Ambrose, you can’t do all that cleaning up on your own. I can’t just leave you like that.’
‘Of course you can. What are you going to help me with here? Hammering nails and replacing rotten floorboards and ceilings? Eva, there won’t be work for any of us. The place will be crawling with plumbers and builders instead of customers for the next few weeks anyway.’
‘But Meg made it sound as though the whole shop was in ruins.’
Ambrose actually laughed. ‘Yes, well, Meg can be a little excitable at times. Excellent worker, but really, what an imagination. It’s not half as bad as she thinks, but she couldn’t be told. She’s too busy blaming herself to see that it isn’t the end of the world.’
‘So it’s not that bad?’
‘It’s not that bad. Just a section of the back ceiling and a few broken pipes. Everything’s very wet, too, but nothing that can’t be dried or replaced. And I’m insured of course.’
Eva’s spirits started to lift again. ‘So you really don’t want me to come back?’
‘No. Really. But I know you would, Evie, and I’m very touched. And you know that if I really did need you here, I’d say as much. But truth be told, stay right where you are. In fact, stay right where you are for even longer. Take another week off, if you can change your ticket again at this short notice.’
‘What?’
‘I’m serious. There’s no point rushing back here, the shop will be shut. Take some more time off. Enjoy yourself. You might come back with even more ideas for the shop.’
‘So your offer still stands?’ She’d hardly dared to ask.
Ambrose was relaxed. ‘Of course. I hope you’ve had a chance to think about it, have you? Though I suppose you’ve been busy enough with Lainey and all that sunshine and sightseeing. It’s just with the rebuilding that we’ll need to do out the back, well, if you had any major ideas, now could be the time to …’ He trailed off at the silence from Eva’s end. He had a sudden feeling that she was going to tell him she didn’t want to work in the shop at all any more. Or that she had decided to emigrate to Australia. So he was astonished at her next words.
‘Ambrose, I have been thinking about what you said. About your offer. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it all the time.’
He settled back in his chair. ‘And?’
She sounded tentative. ‘I’ve had an idea. You said that I could think about changing it, doing something different?’
‘And I meant it, Eva.’
‘It was something Meg said a few weeks ago. I wondered if it would work if I opened a little cafe. At the back of the shop. Just serving lunches and coffee and cake. As well as the delicatessen at the front, of course. I’ve looked at lots of places here in Melbourne, and I think it could be done. I mean, I know there’d be lots of work. Building approval, I suppose. And renovations, of course. I pictured it in the back left-hand corner of the shop ‘
‘No,’ Ambrose interrupted.
Eva’s heart sank. ‘No? That wouldn’t work?’
‘I don’t think so, Evie.’
She should have guessed it was a mad idea. Ambrose had realised straight away. She should have checked with him before she started running around, doing all her research, imagining it Ambrose spoke again. ‘I think it would work better in the right-hand corner. That’s where the water damage is, so we’d have to rebuild there anyway. And you’d need to set up a small kitchen, wouldn’t you? The gas pipes are on that side, so that would be more efficient. How much room would you need, did you think? And what about the storeroom? You could move that out into the yard, there’s enough room out there, I think.’
“I Eva felt her spirits fly again. Her skin tingled. ‘You think so? You really think it would work?’
Ambrose was very matter-of-fact. ‘Evie, I think it would all work. I think it’s a wonderful idea.’
‘Ambrose, have you got a pen and paper handy, if I was to describe to you what I had in mind? It’s early days, I know, but I was thinking we could …’
In Dublin, Ambrose was smiling as, directed by Eva, he drew a sketch of her proposed new floorplan. This was even better than he’d imagined. He even laughed out loud at her suggested name, Ambrosia. He said it aloud a few times. He’d think about it, he said. He certainly didn’t dismiss it out of hand.
He settled back in his chair and looked down at the sketched plan again. ‘Right, now, go on. So where did you propose to put the tables?’
Joseph came into the kitchen with a pile of dirty plates. He was about to tip all the leftovers into the bin when Bill the kitchenhand came up behind, saw what he was doing and stopped him with a sudden yell. ‘Mate, don’t throw them out.’
Joseph was puzzled. ‘But they’re leftovers.’
Bill peered at the contents of the plate and picked out several uneaten prawns. ‘Just give them a quick wash and put them back in the fridge.’
Joseph was appalled. ‘What?’
‘You’ve heard of recycling, haven’t you? That’s what we do here. The boss insists.’
A shout from the head chef interrupted them. ‘Bill, three new prawn salads and make it snappy.’
‘No need to be so crabby, you shellfish old bastard,’ Bill whispered under his breath. ‘You do them, Joe, would you? Use those recycled prawns.’
‘But that’s disgusting.’ Joseph couldn’t believe this.
Bill shrugged. ‘You want to work here, you work the way Greg wants you to work.’ ‘But people could get sick.’ Bill just shrugged again. ‘So? How do they prove something from here caused it? They can’t. People get food poisoning the whole time and have no idea that’s what it is.’ He noticed Joseph’s expression and laughed. ‘Joe, come on, mate. It’s not that bad. Isn’t there too much waste in the world as it is?’ By the end of the day Joseph had resolved never to eat out again. He’d never seen such penny pinching in his life. The British government should hire Greg as a consultant, he thought. The budget would be in surplus within months. Greg’s cafe used every cost-saving trick in the book. The supposedly high-quality extra-virgin olive oil on the tables was in fact cheap oil poured into new bottles. The chicken described on the menu as free-range and corn-fed had arrived in a carton clearly labelled as factory-processed. The bread apparently freshly baked on the premises was day old leftovers from the bakery three streets away, sprinkled with water and revived in the oven. As for the prawns - Joseph was practically on speaking terms with one of them. It had now appeared on three different plates. He felt like adopting it and taking it back to his hotel. Or at the very least wrapping it in a serviette. It would catch its death going in and out of the fridge like this.
Out in the cafe collecting some more dirty dishes, he glanced around at the crowded tables. He felt sorry for the people who had eaten everything on their plates. Greg should be giving away free antacid tablets rather than peppermints at the reception desk, he thought.
As he looked over at the desk, he gave Niamh a smile and received a dazzling one in return. What was it about her smile? he wondered, going back into the kitchen laden with dirty dishes. It was the contrast, he decided, after giving it some thought. She could look so solemn and then the sudden smile would light up her whole face. It was a lovely effect.
At the end of her shift Eva came into the kitchen to pick up her bag from the staff locker-room. Joe was there, as she’d hoped he would be. She’d caught herself looking out for him all day. ‘Hello again. How are you enjoying it here, Joe? Not too drastic a change from industrial design, I hope?’
She’d remembered what he did. ‘No,’ he said. ‘This is much more straightforward. Someone dirties their plate, you wash it and then it’s clean again. Simple.’
‘So what sort of designing do you do? Bridges? Buildings?’
He didn’t want to talk about his work. He wanted to forget that life for a little while. He decided to
keep it uncomplicated. ‘Smaller scale. Furniture, that sort of thing. Very boring.’
She was about to ask more when Greg came in. He ignored Joseph.
‘Niamh, there you are. I’m really sorry, I won’t be able to take you to Phillip Island tonight after all. I’ve got a major problem with the architect at the other premises, could be an all-nighter the way things are going.’
‘That’s fine,’ Eva said, hiding her disappointment. ‘I’ll go another time. Thanks for the offer anyway.’
Greg’s mobile rang. He snapped out his name then started barking into it. ‘Okay, okay, I said I’m on my way.’
‘Goodbye, Greg,’ Eva said, looking after him as he went striding out of the kitchen.
‘You were going to go to Phillip Island tonight, to the fairy penguin parade?’ Joseph asked. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing.’
‘We were. Never mind. As I said, there’s always another time.’
Joseph made a sudden decision. ‘I was actually thinking about going to see the fairy penguins tonight myself. The backpacker hostel runs tours. Would you like to come with me instead?’
She didn’t even have to think about it. She looked up at him and smiled again. ‘I’d love to go with you, Joe.’
The Phillip Island bus was parked in front of the hostel when she met Joe at six o’clock that night.
‘Are you staying in this one now?’ she asked, looking up at the brightly coloured building.
‘No, I’m over that way,’ he said, pointing toward the Esplanade.
The driver arrived, collected their money and waved them all into the bus. ‘It’s like a school excursion, isn’t it?’ Eva said as they took their seats at the back, very conscious of how close they were to each other. Except she’d never felt like this on any school excursions. Nervous, but oddly excited as well. It was a strange combination. Like being filled with helium gas and having lead weights on your feet, all at the same time.
‘It is,’ he agreed. ‘Are you thinking about leading a singalong?’
‘Of Enya songs?’ she said, trying not to laugh at the mental image that produced. ‘Well, yes, I will if you promise to do your John Travolta routine again.’
‘It’s a deal.’
The bus was crowded, the other travellers of all ages speaking in lots of different languages, only half-listening to the driver who told them they were heading to see one of the top five tourist attractions in Australia.