As a child, she had visited Ally Bay just once a year, making the thirty-minute drive from Bindallarah with her mother every December to shop for Christmas presents and supplies for the coming school year. Claire felt a little foolish as she remembered how she would barely sleep the night before the annual pilgrimage, as thrilled as if she were about to visit Paris or Rome instead of a torpid beachside hamlet in the northernmost reaches of New South Wales.
She left the store and was relieved when Nina flashed a bright smile in her direction, the strangeness that had passed between them just a few minutes ago apparently forgotten.
‘Hey, Claire,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I was going to wait inside for you, but then I saw this guy passing by. This is my friend, Alex.’
The man in the blue suit turned around and, for what felt like the hundredth time since she’d returned to the district, Claire’s jaw dropped.
‘Claire Thorne,’ Alex Jessop said slowly. The high school Neanderthal-turned-mayor gave her an appraising look. ‘I heard you were back. Good to see you. You’re looking great.’
Before she could reply, Alex planted a kiss on Claire’s cheek and wrapped his arms around her.
‘Of course, I forget you already know everybody in town, Claire,’ Nina said, smiling.
‘I don’t know everybody,’ Claire mumbled. ‘Not any more.’
‘But everybody knows you,’ Alex said jovially, releasing Claire from his embrace. ‘The Thornes have sure made their mark in this neck of the woods over the years.’
Claire felt her face flush. ‘So, Alex, you’re the mayor now.’ She changed the subject. ‘I did not see that one coming.’ If Alex was going to make barbs about Claire’s past, she would happily return the favour.
Alex chuckled. ‘You’re not the only one,’ he said. His gaze roamed unabashedly over Claire’s body and she felt exposed in more ways than one. ‘It really is nice to see you, Claire. Can I buy you dinner while you’re in town? I’d love to catch up properly.’
Claire was sure she heard Nina gasp. She felt a little breathless herself. Was she hallucinating or had Alex Jessop – the erstwhile muscled football jock who had scarcely given her timid, bookish teenage self the time of day – just asked her out?
She arranged her face into what she hoped was an apologetic expression. ‘I don’t think I’ll have time, I’m afraid,’ she said, her tone entirely unrepentant. ‘Nina and Scotty’s wedding is only a few days away and I’ve promised to help out with the arrangements as much as I can.’
‘Huh,’ he said, arching an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t that generous of you? Well, if you find yourself with a free evening, give me a call.’ He extracted a business card from his back pocket and handed it to Claire.
She smiled and slid it into her handbag, making a mental note to deposit it in the first bin she saw.
‘Nina, I’ll call you later to go over the Christmas roster for the studio,’ Alex said. He pecked Nina on the cheek and went on his way.
Nina waited until her boss was out of earshot, then turned to Claire. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘That was weird. What’s the deal with you and Alex?’
Claire shook her head. The encounter had left her feeling rattled and she didn’t quite know why. ‘There is literally no deal,’ she said. ‘We were at high school together and he was one hundred per cent awful. Boorish, mean, thought he was king of the castle. Seems like he’s made quite the transformation.’
Nina looked sceptical. ‘So you two never . . .?’
Claire frowned. ‘Never what?’
‘I don’t know, dated? Made out? Secretly longed for each other?’
‘Ew, no way!’ She protested with all the vehemence of the dramatic teenager she had once been. ‘Alex Jessop was so not my type. That was probably the most words Alex has ever spoken to me. The only guy I ever dated in high school was . . . was . . .’
Claire faltered. Scotty. She wouldn’t really call those afternoons in the dunes and evenings on the stable roof at Cape Ashe Stud ‘dating’, but there was no doubt he had been the only member of the opposite sex on her radar back then – and for years afterwards.
‘Scotty?’ Nina supplied. ‘It’s okay, Claire. I know all about you and Scotty. You don’t have to pretend you don’t have a history.’
She wondered if Nina knew that Scotty had once wanted Claire to be his wife. He hadn’t actually answered her yesterday when she’d made her awkward joke about Nina being his second choice.
‘I just don’t want you to worry that whatever Scotty and I once had has anything to do with me being here,’ Claire said. ‘I came back to Bindallarah because we’re friends. Just friends. I only want what’s best for him.’
‘I’m not worried,’ Nina said. ‘I’m really glad you’re here. I only want what’s best for Scotty, too.’
She put her arm around Claire’s shoulders and squeezed. Claire felt herself tense, and not just because even as a student in California she’d never managed to get used to that American touchy-feelyness. Her tension was guilt-induced. Nina thought they were on the same page, working towards a shared goal of helping Scotty plan an incredible wedding.
But somehow Claire doubted Nina would agree that what was best for Scotty was that they shouldn’t get married at all.
CHAPTER NINE
Claire stood on the footpath and looked up at the blue-and-white-striped shop awning. Unpretentious block lettering declared it to be the commercial home of Tobias Watts: Artisan Butcher. ‘Watt’s the best meat? Watts’s meat!’ read a wooden signboard hanging underneath.
Claire shook her head. The only artisans in Bindallarah when she was growing up were the Country Women’s Association quilters, who met in the community hall on the second Sunday of the month.
‘Wow, Scotty, you sure
