There aren’t many truths Henry ever told in his life. Only when he met Suzy, at the age of 63, did his mindset change about truth and fiction. Suzy was as honest as Henry was deceiving and a very interesting couple they did make.
They met by chance when Suzy responded to a personal in the local newspaper. She’s only been in town for a few months and after being a widow for ten years. She decided it might be fun to start dating again and who knows what life still has to offer at 55.
The personal read: “Older, mature, virile man needs an active partner to have fun with.”
In this one line Henry meant a sex partner (he was very virile still, you see), but Suzy read ‘active’ and ‘fun’ as outgoing and sportive.
At last the big day arrived and Suzy walked into the little cafe on the corner of Hope and Willow Street. She was dressed casually, as it would suit a lady of her age. Her cream blouse fitted well with her navy, knee-length dress she had on. She didn’t put too much make up on her face and as she stepped into the cafe, her eyes scanned the room.
She saw a man sitting at the table and a single Daffodil stood upright in the vase. Suzy took a deep breath and walked towards the man.
“You must be Henry,” her voice was deep, “I’m Suzy.” Henry got up to take her soft hand in his. “I’m glad you came,” he said as he pulled out the chair for her. He could not believe his luck! This woman was absolutely beautiful, with a perfect (flexible?) body and her face wasn’t bad either. When Henry sat himself down opposite Suzy a waitress suddenly appeared and he ordered a bottle of wine.
The cafe was filled with locals, as it usually was. The bored, the old and the jobless always found a reason for a cup of coffee or something to eat. Off course it was also the only place in town where one could go to have a half decent lunch. The cafe was run by old Miss Ails who inherited the cafe from her father. The town was small but on the ‘creative’ route of the Karoo and the potential for developing and bringing more business into town, was in this cafe. Old Miss Ails refused to sell the cafe and send prospective buyers away in no uncertain terms.
As Henry told Suzy about the town and the cafe (as done above, just with a bit more extravagance) Suzy ate her lunch and sipped her wine. She felt a bit tipsy when lunch was over and it was time to go.
“Let me walk you home,” Henry offered politely and smiled like a Chester cat when Suzy agreed. They walked slowly through town to the retirement home where Suzy lived.
For weeks after this great event, the town gossiped and was in awe of this newcomer who changed Henry for the better. No one could believe how soft he spoke instead of his normal bellow. Yes, Henry bellowed when he spoke in order to be sure that everyone heard of his achievements, bargains and what have you. Oh, in case you were wondering, Henry still lied every so often, just not in his forte tones as before.
Quiet little lies infiltrated conversations without the usual warning of his voice growing louder. They were somehow much more believable when they were spoke and not boasted. Henry felt good.
Then one day something strange happened. The morning started the same as most mornings for Henry and Suzy (whom by this time have moved into Henry’s cottage on the edge of town, clever woman I would say). They had coffee and toast with butter and apricot jam for breakfast. Then they would stroll through Henry’s lavish garden, hand in hand. Then back to the kitchen for more coffee. It would be safe to say, that after the second coffee town would be open and you would see them walking through town. They would always stop at each window, have a short discussion and then stroll on toward the cafe. (Ah bliss!)
As they reached the cafe that very strange morning, the doors were locked and half the town folk stood outside talking and gesturing their complaints. Suzy let go of Henry’s hand and walked through the crowds to peep through the door. It was still dark inside.
“Has anyone bothered to go and see if Miss Ails was at home?” she spoke loudly into the crowd. No one confirmed such action and she smiled satisfied when Henry turned on his heels and trotted to where Miss Ails lived. On his return the folk could see that Miss Ails was not at home. Where could she be?
“Henry darling, could you trot back again and see if the keys are still in her house? I suppose it would be in the kitchen somewhere,” and once again Henry went. He came back with the keys and handed it over to Suzy.
“Thank you darling,” she purred (and it was a true “a-a-a-ah” moment for the crowd). Suzy unlocked the door and before entering, turned to the crowd and said: “We should not let Miss Ails lose business, let’s carry on as usual. I shall do Miss Ails’ work for her, whilst some of you could form a search party and go out and look for her. What do you say?” The town folk agreed, off course they would, it was after all one their oldest citizens missing. Soon a search party was assembled and off they went.
There were very few people left in the cafe. (Did I mention that most of the customers were males? Oh yes, Miss Ails might have been old, but she had a great set of knockers on her and most of the wives died before the men.) Suzy kept herself busy in the kitchen. With the odd occasional cup of coffee and a general feeling of worry about the whereabouts of Miss Ails, she could only but keep herself busy.
Three days went past and no Miss Ails. Suzy had organized a town gathering for the next morning (strange how she suddenly becomes a leader, isn’t it?) and with that decided to cook a breakfast for the whole town. (Okay, okay, the town was only a hundred people or so strong and only half would turn up, because the rest worked away.) Suzy cooked.
The smell of a delicious stew rose up from the cafe as the fifty odd town folk made their way the next morning. Miss Ails disappeared and no one had the slightest idea where to look anymore. The police came and even with their search dogs, nothing could be found. So the sight was pretty depressing as they strolled into the cafe.
The cafe had a different colour scheme and looked much happier than the town folk felt. They sat down at Suzy’s request and as they were used to by now, Henry stood solidly by her side.
“I know we are all in total amazement as to where dear Miss Ails went, but I know in my heart, that she would be back soon. I know she wouldn’t want this place bought out for development plots or have it run into the ground...” the town folk applaud (and all had these real typical funeral- ‘in memoriam- smiles on their faces) and Suzy continued.
“If there’s no objection, I would love to take the duties of the cafe upon my hands, since I have really come to love this place...” once again applauding (and don’t forget the forced funeral tears – they’re usually the once that roll down one by one.)
“So if you don’t mind, please have some breakfast here this morning, in honour of Miss Ails, whom we all knew and loved,” (give me a break!) “I have taken it upon myself to place the new recipe on the menu as ‘N Ails for breakfast’.” With that the folk cheered and suddenly were starved to death. Suzy dished every single person’s plate to the brim and sat back very satisfied.
That same late afternoon Suzy locked the doors of the old cafe and smiled victoriously. The keys in her hand felt cold and she loved it. In her other hand she held the deeds of the cafe. Transferred to Suzy Ails.
(The long, lost, separated at birth and very bitter sister of N Ails whom now lives within each town folk who were at breakfast that fateful morning.)
In South Africa today security plays a vital part in any business or private home. This book and the volumes to follow, will guide you step by step through the essential precautionary measures to be taken in protecting your family and valuables. From employing security guards, evacuation of your site and security measures to burglar bars and alarms in your private home.
a Book compiled by me from experience gained after 10 years in the security industry as Industrial relations officer with Nosa qualifications, 1st Aid, fire protection and also S.O.B. grade A.
Print this short story
Show the next latest work
