CHAPTER FIVE
Mitch had never been to the cafe mid-morning and found it busier than expected. He acknowledged Sarah with a nod and wave and received a quizzical look after selecting a table for two toward the back of the building. He smiled as if to say ‘I’ll explain later’ which Sarah let pass. She was a great barista in more ways than one.
It seemed Albert Churchill was a stickler for time too and the metronomic Click - Click was heard only five minutes after Mitchell’s arrival. He courteously waited at the counter until Sarah’s voice beckoned if she could be of help.
“That you may. I am here to meet a friend. Much younger than I, and I am guessing rather fit looking. Mitchell Atherton is his name and as you may tell, I haven’t seen him for a long time.”
Albert’s smile broadened and a laugh ensured. Sarah got the jibe and left the counter to guide Albert toward Mitchell who had witnessed the whole exchange. Mitchell grinned as the pair approached and he noted how relaxed Sarah was in helping others. Albert extended his hand to meet Mitchell’s with equal precision to their earlier handshake and gestured a seat which Albert took without assistance.
“Great to see you again Mr. Churchill.” Mitchell said.
“I wish I could say the same to you Mr. Atherton,” Albert replied with a mischievous smile. It was a trick Albert started after losing his eyesight. It put a few people off initially, but he found it ultimately lightened any mood. His misfortune was no fault of his own and Albert chose long ago to make light of it rather than dwell on what might have been. Mitchell cursed his thoughtless comment but rightly realised Albert possessed a wicked sense of humour. He relaxed as they ordered coffees.
Albert Reginald Churchill was born in the quaint English town of Thornbury in South Gloucestershire on the seventh of June 1939. He came into the world only months before Neville Chamberlain stunned the English population by declaring war against the Germans. His father, a military man serving his entire career with the Royal Navy, was killed in action on the eve of Albert’s fifth birthday during the famous D-Day landings in 1944. Albert never knew his father but could clearly recall the day his mother sat him down to tell the news of his death.
When the war ended and peace declared, the return of the country’s fighting men made work difficult to find. So Albert, his Mother and younger sister migrated to Australia under the government’s ‘Ten Pound Pom’ incentive. They settled in Brisbane and started a new life together.
On the day of his seventeenth birthday, and much to his mother’s dismay, Albert followed his father’s footsteps and enlisted in the Royal Australian Navy. He loved the military life and for twelve years upheld his families’ proud naval tradition. When Australia entered the Vietnam War Albert commissioned to the HMAS Hobart seeing two tours of duty in ‘67 and ’68. During his second deployment in August 1968, the crew encountered hostile shore fire and flying shrapnel punctured both of his eyes causing his current affliction.
He slowly rehabilitated through a procession of institutions over the next four years, the last of which was located in Sydney. Following his discharge on a full veterans’ pension, Albert made home in the local area and remained there ever since. Albert never married and didn’t have children.
The men chatted politely as new acquaintances. Mitch periodically glancing to see Sarah behind her coffee machine never once taking her eyes from the odd couple in the corner. Albert spoke of life as a young boy in England during the late stages of the Second World War, then of the six-week steamer journey his family made to Australia. His memory was remarkable.
“And how long have you been living in the area Mr. Churchill?” Mitch enquired.
“Please Mr. Atherton, my name’s Albert. I feel our relationship allows for informality.” The comment confused Mitch.
“And I’m Mitchell… so how long have you been living here Albert?”
“I spent eleven months in a veteran’s hospice not far from here learning to use this cane.” Albert tapped the folded rod now resting on his lap, “and when the doctors deemed me capable of navigating the world on my own, headquarters found a suitable townhouse not far from where you intercepted me this morning. Let me think, it has been almost forty years now.”
Although Mitchell couldn’t see his eyes, he knew Albert’s mind was wandering…what happened to that time? Ironically Mitch was thinking the same thing.
Albert brought the coffee to his lips and took a long gulp training back his thoughts.
The men discussed many things, but the main topic was the vast changes to the area over the years. Albert deferred to a time when the traffic was lighter, the pace slower, and the birds more prevalent in their daily orchestra. Mitch welcomed learning of the simpler time. Normally he was reluctant to talk about himself, but felt a strange sense of ease with Albert, and the conversation flowed freely in both directions. He spoke of his time in Abu Dhabi while overseeing the construction of a massive shopping mall, and the men shared joy in regaling tales of some cities in south east Asia both had visited - albeit thirty-five years apart. The exchange was polite but never contrived, and it was Albert who took the first step bringing the men closer.
“Mitchell, you didn’t invite me here to learn of my housing arrangements or sinful nights in Saigon. Perhaps you should just ask what you’re wanting.”
The question shocked only one of them.
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Sarah watched her customers in the far corner with an acquired skill; the skill of looking busy while not drawing attention to herself. She wondered who the blind man was and why he was talking to Mitch.
Sarah Martinelli was a naturally pretty girl with a head of short, blonde hair. She thought herself a little overweight, but others disputed that as ridiculous. Over the years though, her tribulations contributed to a lack of self-confidence that said others couldn’t suppress. They didn’t know her full story and she never told it anyway.
She was a ‘local’ everyone knew for her talented barista skills, but more for her kind nature and engagement with customers. Making them feel special came naturally to her. Sarah’s smile was flawless and always on display, and she possessed a sense of humour combining wit and intelligence with lightening quick timing. She could capture anyone in easy conversation; most yielding much of themselves within minutes such was her charm. Sarah had worked the morning shift at How’s Your Day Bean? for over five years and knew every customer’s coffee and the last time they’d been in for it…she was the reason the café was so busy every morning.
At one time she was married to Alessandro, an Italian she met unpredictably in Milan, who chased her home to Australia proposing the minute he knocked on her door. She bore a daughter within a year, Christina, gifted with the olive skin of her father and curly golden locks of her mother. She was an exceptional child. However Sarah’s life since had sadly been less than romantic.
Her womanly inquisitiveness got the better of her so she instructed the junior waitress to clear the table and offer complimentary coffees to the occupants who’d been chatting for over an hour. Preparing the second round, she remembered Mitchell’s earlier comment about the red 4WD. The old man could in no way be the owner of said vehicle. He was blind for God’s sake. Unfortunately a surge of late-morning shoppers brought her back to more important matters - her job. But the meeting seemed strange and made little sense to her.
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Albert, forgive me,” Mitchell ventured, “this morning I watched you stand on the path in the rain for over an hour.” His heart raced and he drew a breath. “I can’t help but wonder, what you were doing?”
As if knowing the question before being asked, Albert replied without hesitation.
“I was enjoying the view Mr. Atherton. A concession regrettably taken from me many years ago.”
Mitchell almost spat out the mouthful of coffee he’d just taken to calm his nerves. What did Albert mean by enjoying the view? He is blind. The week really had been bewildering.
Albert smiled at his reaction and suggested the café was not the place to discuss the matter. Best they continue their talk in a more private forum. They agreed to meet at the park bench in a few days’ time and shook hands again as Sarah watched on unnoticed. Albert Churchill then negotiated a path through the busy café and ‘clicked’ his way out to the street.
Mitchell settled the bill and for a second time gave the ‘I’ll explain later’ look to the barista. On the way home he wondered what could possibly be so important or secretive that it couldn’t be discussed in a café?
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Over the next few days Mitchell became reclusive spending countless hours on his laptop Goggling HMAS Hobart, the Vietnam War, and scores of other related topics. He’d learnt a great deal of the past but contemplated the present. A week ago Juliana was all he’d thought of; her entrancing eyes, gorgeous hair and smile lighting his world. She once consumed his mind but now made way for the phantom 4WD and Albert R. Churchill.
Peanut on the other hand was restless. Obviously eager for her walk, Mitch finally relented and took her out, if nothing else to clear his mind.