Worlds Apart

Ham, Lettuce, no pickles. It is Sunday after all.

Queuing in the bakery, the sun shines through the storefront and lands in the small of her back, feeling like a warm hug. Her long, thick dark hair gently sways side to side as she subtly dances to the music that’s playing. As Ted would say - any day that you’re lucky enough to be alive, is a good day.

The barista looks up and spots her there - his face lights up. She’s the kind of young woman that brings happiness with her wherever she goes. A whirlwind of kindness, oblivious to her own gift.

“Cappucino for you and an Americano for Ted?” the barista asks, but he’s already pouring. The order has been the same for the past six years. Two coffees, two ham baguettes. Pickles on Saturdays, but not on Sundays.

She closes her eyes and quietly sings “and I know it’s gonna be….a lovely day”, enjoying the sun now on her face. “This is Ted’s favourite song. He’s right isn’t he, every day is a lovely day if you just look for a reason to make it one.”

“Wise young man is your Ted. See you next week Safi”

With her head whirring with things she can’t wait to tell Ted, Safi waves goodbye, bounds out of the bakery and glides down the street, still humming Bill Withers.

During the week, Safi works split shifts as a waitress, so she isn’t home much, but since she met Ted, the pair have grown inseparable. She sees him more than his son does. Ted is like a grandfather to Safi. At least, that’s what she imagines - she never had real grandparents.

Every weekend, they lunch together. They talk about Ted’s travels with his wife in their beautiful Red campervan, Ruby and all of the places Safi would love to one day see for herself. She could listen to his tales for hours, and she regularly did.

Arriving at Ted’s, nothing is out of place, not a single blade of grass - just the way he liked it. The spring sunshine envelopes the whole garden and a rainbow of tulips have sprung up along the picket fence. A squirrel darts up to the top of the blossom tree in the middle of the lawn as Safi opens the creaky little wooden gate.

Like clockwork, wearing his uniform of beige trousers, bobbled knitted cardigan and his beloved brown tweed Trilby, Ted opens the front door and spreads his arms wide.

“Safi my girl, isn’t it a lovely day?” He gestures to the sky and his eyes wrinkle more as he smiles. Safi can’t help but notice how, at the age of 87, Ted has aged at a drastic rate over the years. Despite this, he still remains the most young at heart person she knows.

“Look, Nonna’s tulips are in bloom, they’re beautiful” Safi points with her cappuccino.

Ted removes his hat and brings it to his chest. “Just like she was”, he says with a smile. “She was the most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on. She’d have been proud of you Safi”.

With a smile, Safi heads into the house. Ted follows a few moments later and places a single pink tulip from the garden, into a small vase and proudly places it in the centre of the table. He signals for Safi to sit down.

“So, have you quit your job yet?”

“We’ve been through this, I can’t just quit my job, I have rent to pay.” She laughs as she fills a glass with water.

“Why not? You’re a talented girl. You shouldn’t be working all hours in that dirty restaurant for that rotten boss of yours”.

“I know, but it’s just until I can find my break. I need to pay my bills, it’s not forever, stop fussing” Safi leans over and kisses Ted on the forehead, pinching his hat from his head and placing it on her own, a ritual she performed on each visit, hoping he wouldn’t notice if she snuck home with it on. “Nice try, dear” he’d chuckle.

Safi reaches into her handbag and pulls out a magazine, changing the subject.

“Cuba?” She opens the magazine to a photo of the multi-coloured streets of Old Havana and looks up for Ted’s reaction.

“Ah, Cuba. Nonna loved it there. Salsa, cigars and rum. Lots of Rum!” he threw his head back with laughter.

“Is there nowhere you haven’t been?!” Safi says playfully, but she can’t wait to hear Ted’s travel stories.

They spend the next 2 hours talking about the world and its wonders, Safi lapping up every story Ted has for her. She quietly wonders if she will ever get closer to these sights than Ted’s stories.

The next day, returning from her early shift, she notices that Ted’s curtains are closed. She checks her phone: Monday, 15:30. Odd. With no response from the doorbell, Safi lets herself in.

The radio isn’t on - something is wrong. Safi rushes through to the living room, where she finds Ted sat on the sofa, weak and breathless. She notices how odd it was to see him there without his hat on and for a moment wonders where it is. Instinct kicks in and she dials for an ambulance but she already knows it’s too late.

Safi recalls the day she and Ted met. It was the day she moved into her apartment. She’d tripped over a plant pot that she hadn’t spotted, scattering her belongings across the path. Ted was out mowing his lawn next door and rushed over to help her up. Finding out that Safi was new to the area, Ted keenly put out his hand “Ted, your first friend in town. My wife was my best friend. I lost her three weeks ago, so I sure could use a friend”

“Safi. Your newest friend” she’d replied, extending her hand into his, trying to hide the tears forming in her eyes.

Safi sits next to Ted, takes his hand and starts to sing the only song she can think of. “When I wake up in the morning, love, and the sunlight hurts my eyes...”

‘What on earth am I doing? This is not a lovely day!’ she thought to herself. A weak squeeze of the hand came from Ted - she knew she had to continue.

She sang to him until his last breath, holding his hand, her head nestled into his shoulder. The ambulance arrived soon after, pronounced him dead and took him away. Just like that, he was gone.

Safi dragged herself off the sofa, where she laid crying for what felt like a whole day. She walked over to Ted’s telephone and found the little Black notebook laid next to it. She was hoping Ted’s son, Dr Johnson’s number would be in there; someone had to tell him the news. Opening up the book, on the first page were two numbers - hers and Dr Johnson’s. She dialled. Voicemail. She decided against announcing his father’s death via voicemail.

Flicking through the full pages of the notebook, she saw her name and stopped, hesitating for a moment, deciding whether to read or to put it down.

Safi came to drop off some mulled wine today and asked where Dr Johnson was. I told her he was needed in surgery. “Nobody should spend Christmas alone, Ted. Get your coat, you’re coming to mine”. That girl is truly wonderful, such kindness. I’m lucky to have her in my life.

‘What kind of son leaves his father alone at Christmas?’ She remembers thinking, but grateful that she was able to spend Christmas with Ted herself. She tries Dr Johnson again to no avail.

Safi grabs the notebook and heads back home, where she spends the rest of the evening reading Ted’s entries. Safi is surprised that Dr Johnson doesn’t have more mentions in Ted’s journals. He visits every Wednesday (even if he was lousy every other time of the year, at least he was consistent on Wednesdays) but there was very little detail of their conversations.

Safi must have fallen asleep, because she wakes up fully clothed, the sun shining through her window and Ted’s notebook under her arm. She sits up and opens the book. She lands on a page that has an envelope taped to it. It has her name on it. Carefully removing the envelope, she takes out the contents. A small, silver key wrapped in a piece of paper:

Dearest Safi,

There is something I need you to do for me.

Unit 19

12 Albatross Street

Newtown

All my love,

Ted

She stares, confused. She needs comfort and wishes she had looked for Ted’s hat before she left yesterday, but going back to raid a deadman’s house now seems wrong. She tries Dr Johnson and once again reaches voicemail. Safi decides to leave a message.

“Hi Dr Johnson, it’s Safi, Ted’s neighbour. I need to speak with you about your dad, please call me back”.

Was that too casual?

Restless with waiting around for a callback, Safi takes another look at the note and key and decides to head to the address. A few loops of the area and she finds the right place. She steps out of her car and approaches, unsure what to expect. Why did Ted want her to do this and not Dr Johnson?

She walks up to the entrance and with a deep inhale, unlocks the door. It’s dark inside and she cautiously steps in. The lights are triggered by her entering and it’s so bright she shields her eyes. Adjusting, Safi sees exactly what is in the unit: Ted and Nonna’s beautiful Red campervan. It’s stunning, just like the photographs Ted had shown her. Imagining all of the places it had taken Ted and Nonna, she can’t help but stare in awe. No doubt Dr Johnson will sell it and not treasure it like it deserves to be treasured, she thinks.

Safi’s thoughts are interrupted by her phone ringing. Dr Johnson. Safi composes herself and answers the phone. “Dr Johnson, thank you for calling me back”

“Hi Safi, I got your message. I...”

“It’s your father, Ted. He’s, I’m afraid…”

“Safi? I’m sorry, Ted is not my father. He’s my patient”

Safi is taken aback. “But I... You visited every week?”

“I visited to give Ted his treatment Safi, he was an extremely sick man. Ted had no family”. Hearing Safi sobbing on the other end of the phone, he adds “Safi, Ted spoke so highly of you. You were always there for him. You were Ted’s family.”

Hanging up the phone and gathering her thoughts, Safi climbs into the front seat of the campervan to sit for a while. As she closes the door, she looks across the passenger’s seat and there, placed upon it, is Ted’s Trilby. On top of it, another envelope with her name on it. She opens it up to find more of Ted’s beautiful handwriting.

To my dearest Safi,

You have been the best friend an old man like me could ever have wished for. You have shown me kindness beyond anything I have ever experienced before.

You brought light and joy into my life when I thought all hopes of ever finding that again were gone. I know Nonna would have been so proud of you, just like I am, every day.

You deserve all the happiness in the world, my dear.

You deserve to live your dreams.

I want you to have Ruby. Take good care of her for me.

Quit that awful job of yours and go see the world.

All my love,

Ted.

Shaking, Safi picks up Ted’s hat. Underneath, piled and tied neatly, is $20,000 cash. A tear rolls down her cheek and lands on the hat. Placing the hat on to her head, she starts Ruby’s ignition. The audio system springs to life and an old cassette tape starts playing Ted’s favourite song.