The Westport Whisper — Edition 12: A poisoned tree, an engagement ring, and the best worst proposal Westport has ever seen.

Mabel, Molly & Matt — the park, the flask, and a briefing nobody saw coming

Those who were at Riverside Park on Tuesday morning around ten o’clock may have noticed an unusual gathering under the BBQ shelter overlooking the water. An elderly woman with a walker, a very pregnant young woman in an outfit that had absolutely no business looking that good at this stage of proceedings, and a man who arrived with the expression of someone expecting a pleasant morning and left with the expression of someone who has just been given a very juicy puzzle.

The elderly woman was Mabel. The flask of tea on the table was hers. So was the notebook, already open, already annotated in her precise and unhurried handwriting. Molly had driven her — she knew something was coming, she just didn’t know what. Matt had been told it was a nice morning out by the river. He had brought a takeaway coffee and was halfway through it when Mabel looked at him over her reading glasses and said she needed to tell them both something and she needed them to listen before they said anything.

Matt put his coffee down. Molly sighed. Mabel began.

She told them about the Grandmother Banksia. She laid out the facts as she knew them — the missing birds, the declining health of the tree, the smell she’d detected that no one else had bothered about. The man-made hole she had found — she knew what had happened. And she had her suspicions about who was responsible.

Pulling a zip lock bag filled with soil from her cardigan pocket she placed it on the table between them with the matter-of-fact composure of a woman who has been waiting for the right moment to show someone this and has finally found it.

Molly stared at the bag. Matt stared at the bag. Then Matt looked at Mabel.

She told them about the man in the grey jacket with the suspicious behaviour. She showed them the photo she’d snapped of him. It was, she acknowledged, a photograph of the back of a grey jacket at some distance, but it was more than she had before.

She told them about Victor Hale. The Golden Dauber Bingo Palace going up on Church Street. The environmental permit that requires the Grandmother Banksia to survive — because if the tree dies, the permit is revoked and the hall cannot open. She said this last part very quietly and let it sit there on the table between them alongside the zip lock bag and the photograph and the open notebook.

The river moved past them. A family with a dog walked by on the path below. The morning was perfectly ordinary in every direction except under the BBQ shelter.

Molly said — so someone is poisoning the tree on purpose. It wasn’t a question.

Mabel said she believed so, yes.

Matt had been quiet throughout all of this in the particular way that journalists are quiet when they are listening properly. He looked at the bag on the table. He looked at the photograph. He looked out at the river for a moment. Then he asked Mabel one question.

This correspondent does not know what the question was. What this correspondent does know is that when he asked it, Mabel looked at him with an expression that might, in the right light, have been satisfaction. She turned her notebook to face him. He read what was on the page. He nodded slowly and took out his own phone.

Molly looked between the two of them. Nobody explained. She picked up her tea and said nothing.

Ellen does not know any of this. For now, this correspondent suspects, that is exactly how Mabel wants it.

Adam & Isaac — a dinner, a cupcake, and a chihuahua who has absolutely no idea what he has done

Adam had a plan. This correspondent has been watching Adam’s plan develop for some weeks now and can confirm it was, by any reasonable measure, an excellent plan. The table was set. Isaac was dressed up and in an excellent mood, which anyone who knows Isaac will understand is a combination that requires careful cultivation and should not be wasted.

The only tiny, unplanned event? They were babysitting Chloe’s little dog Theo. But as Isaac adored Theo, Adam could not foresee any problems.

The evening began beautifully. Isaac was happy. Adam was the particular kind of quiet that people are when they are about to do something significant and are holding it together by sheer force of will.

Adam had, in a moment of inspiration that he will not repeat in a hurry, hidden the ring inside a cupcake. A beautiful chocolate cupcake from Bartley’s — Isaac’s favourite. The plan was elegant. The presentation was going to be perfect. The cupcake was sitting on the kitchen table, ready for the moment.

Theo was also on the kitchen table. This is not permitted. Theo is aware it is not permitted. Theo does not consider this relevant information.

By the time Adam turned around from plating the entrée, the cupcake was gone. Theo was on the floor. Theo had the specific expression of a dog who has done something magnificent and sees no reason to apologise for it.

Adam stood very still for a moment. Then he said Theo’s name in a tone that caused Isaac to appear immediately from the other room with the expression of a man ready to defend the dog regardless of what he had done.

Isaac looked at the empty cupcake wrapper. He looked at Theo. He looked at Adam. He asked what was in the cupcake.

Adam explained it was chocolate.

Isaac accepted this and reached for his phone to call Chloe — because Theo had eaten something he shouldn’t have and Chloe needed to know. Chloe, to nobody’s surprise, arrived at the vet clinic before they did.

Adam had a private word with the vet. An X-ray was required. The three of them stood in the examination room while the vet put the image up on the screen and pointed to the object clearly visible in Theo’s stomach. Small. Round. A smooth metal band.

Isaac stared at the X-ray. He tilted his head slightly. He looked at Adam. He looked back at the X-ray. Something was happening behind his eyes that this correspondent would very much have liked to observe in person.

Adam, who had been watching Isaac’s face with the expression of a man who has run out of other options, did the only reasonable thing left to do. He got down on one knee on the floor of the Westport veterinary clinic.

Isaac looked down at him for a long moment. Then he said yes. He said it before Adam had finished asking, which those who know Isaac will find entirely unsurprising.

Chloe squealed.

Theo, who was at this point back on the examination table, watched all of this with the composed serenity of a dog who has no idea that he is the reason any of it happened. He is not getting credit for this. He should probably get some credit for this.

The ring, at time of publication, is still inside Theo. The vet is monitoring the situation.

The Westport Whisper sees all, says most, and leaves just enough unsaid to keep you wondering.
Mabel has a team. Isaac has said yes. And somewhere in Westport a very smug chihuahua is carrying an engagement ring.

Until next time — your faithful correspondent remains, as always, delightfully anonymous. 🕯️