Her aunt paused. ‘Sure,’ she said after a beat. ‘But just so you know, sweetheart, you have nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. You and I both know what really happened with your dad. Screw what anyone else in this town thinks.’ Vanessa winked and strode across the street, her colourful kimono jacket billowing behind her as it caught the breeze.
Easy for you to say, Claire thought. Vanessa didn’t have to live with an entire town believing she’d abandoned her father and sent him to an early grave.
Claire watched as her aunt disappeared into the coffee shop, Bindy Brew, then let her gaze drift down the street. Her breath caught as she spotted Scotty’s clinic, the Bindallarah Veterinary Hospital, sandwiched between the post office and a surf shop. And two doors down, above a trendy store selling children’s clothes and wooden toys, looping script across wide windows advertised the location of the imaginatively named Yoga by Nina. The vet clinic didn’t appear to be open yet, but Claire could see shadows moving across the yoga studio walls.
So the future Mr and Mrs Shannon would live and work virtually shoulder to shoulder. They must have met when Nina opened her business right on Scotty’s doorstep. Claire felt another surge of envy as she imagined being able to see Scotty every day the way Nina would, the way she had when they were teenagers, before she was sent away.
‘For God’s sake, Thorne. Get a grip,’ she muttered under her breath. It was ludicrous to feel envious of a woman she’d never even met.
She swallowed the sick sensation and turned away from the street, walking down the short sandy path to the beach. Growing up, the thing Claire had loved most about Bindallarah was its wide, crescent-shaped beach. She had spent hours there, riding one of the Shannons’ gentle ponies in the surf or reading magazines on the sand while Scotty had ploughed through veterinary textbooks way too advanced for a high school student next to her. When she and Scotty had become a couple, the dunes became their meeting spot – the only place they could snatch time together away from their disapproving parents, who thought they were too young to be so serious about each other.
When she’d left for boarding school in Sydney, the beach became a memory. She didn’t have many happy ones of Bindallarah, but, Claire suddenly realised, Scotty was in them all. She cursed herself for waiting so long to come back.
Her mood lifted as she emerged from the bush-lined path onto the pristine white sand and saw that the beach hadn’t changed at all. She dropped down onto the sand and sat cross-legged, drinking it all in. At the southern end, in the shadow of the jagged rock formation atop Tershen Head, a handful of surfers bobbed like corks on the swell, hoping to catch a wave on the famous right-hand point break. In the middle of the beach, close to where she sat, the local surf lifesaving club had set out the red-and-yellow flags that marked the safest swimming spot. A couple of young kids splashed about in the shallows while their mothers kept close watch from nearby towels. Aside from them, Claire had the entire beach to herself.
Almost to herself, she realised, suddenly irritated as she squinted at the shore’s northern end. A tall figure was approaching, accompanied by a dog with a strange bouncing gait. Claire’s irritation dissipated in an instant. She knew it was Scotty before she could even make out his face. She’d recognise his purposeful march anywhere.
She stood up and brushed the sand from her backside, wishing she’d taken the time to throw on something a little more elegant than her vintage green sundress and flat brown leather sandals. Then again, she’d packed in such a hurry she doubted she’d actually brought anything that could be considered elegant.
The thoughts that had filled her mind just moments ago – thoughts of wanting to wait a while before she saw him – vanished like sea spray. Claire raised a hand in greeting. ‘Hi,’ she called out when Scotty was still a good fifty metres away.
Scotty waved back. ‘Hey,’ he shouted over the roar of the surf. At the sound of his voice, the dog unleashed a barrage of excited barks and sprinted towards Claire. The odd canter she had noticed from a distance disappeared when the animal accelerated and Claire realised the dog only had three legs; his front right had been amputated at the shoulder. The disability that hobbled him at walking pace vanished at speed. She wondered wryly if Scotty had noticed that. The dog obviously shared his master’s belief that some things in life were best done as quickly as possible.
‘Tank! Stop!’ Scotty yelled, but it was no use. Tank barrelled into Claire like a missile, knocking her to her knees and proceeding to cover her in slobbery kisses. She shrieked with laughter at the dog’s enthusiastic greeting.
A moment later, Scotty was at her side. ‘Tank, get out of it,’ he growled, hauling away her three-legged paramour – which Claire could now see was some kind of cattle dog mix – by the collar. ‘Sorry, Claire. Are you okay?’
Claire took Scotty’s outstretched hand and let him pull her to her feet. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, still laughing. Tank sat, his wagging tail sweeping broad arcs in the sand. ‘That’s quite a wingman you’ve got there.’
‘What can I say? He knows my type.’ Scotty flashed a rakish grin that made Claire feel light-headed. He
