Claire nodded, glad she’d thought to hide the bag that held the silk scarf inside the one containing Gus’s notebook. ‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘Gus also told you her wild conspiracy theory about why Scotty’s car was here earlier?’
Vanessa’s mouth twitched. ‘She may have mentioned something to that effect.’
Claire rolled her eyes. ‘You know there’s not a word of truth to it, right? Scotty did not stay here last night. I had his car because I did a tracheotomy on a horse at Cape Ashe. I’ve just dropped it back to the clinic.’
‘You don’t owe me any kind of explanation, darling,’ Vanessa said with what Claire knew was deliberate neutrality. ‘What you do in Scotty’s car is your business.’
Immediately, Claire felt irked. The contentedness she’d felt just moments before disappeared as quickly as the morning’s rain had blown through. There it was again: that old assumption that there had to be more to the Claire-and-Scotty story. Her aunt’s feigned disinterest only reminded Claire that some people were still trying to make decisions for her – still deciding how she felt and what she wanted. Nothing Claire said made a lick of difference. It was exhausting.
And she’d had enough.
‘Aunty Vee, why didn’t you let me take care of Dad’s estate?’
Vanessa dropped her secateurs and stared at Claire, aghast. ‘Goodness, what a question. Where did that come from?’
‘I’ve been doing some thinking lately. About my life,’ Claire said quietly. ‘About the decisions I’ve made and those that were made for me. It seems to me there were a lot of things I should have had a say in, but I wasn’t given that opportunity.’
Her aunt pressed her lips together in a thin line and wiped her palms on her trousers. ‘Jim didn’t name an executor in his will. We thought – your mother and I – that it would just be easiest if I took care of it.’
‘But why? I was his next of kin. I was old enough. Didn’t you think I deserved to be involved?’
‘Honey, you were so young. You’d just lost your dad in the most tragic way and you had so much on your plate already with your studies and your relationship with Scotty. I didn’t want to burden you.’ Vanessa took a deep breath. ‘And honestly, once I started to understand what a mess my brother had left behind, I did make a conscious decision to keep it from you as much as I could.’
Claire sat down heavily on the timber steps that led from the garden path to the verandah. She rested her forehead in her hands. ‘It wasn’t your decision to make, Vanessa. Don’t you see? He was my father. Thorne Hill was my home and you sold it off like it meant nothing.’
‘Thorne Hill had to be sold, Claire. Your father’s debts were enormous. It was the only way to square the ledger,’ she said. There was an edge to her voice now; she was growing defensive. ‘There wouldn’t have been any money for your American adventure without selling the farm.’ She jutted her chin defiantly.
Claire knew she was being terribly unfair. Yes, Vanessa had presumed eight years ago to know what was best for her, but somebody had to. Her father was dead and her mother was no use to her – she didn’t even travel from Perth for Jim’s funeral. And Vanessa had lost her big brother. She was trying to do the right thing by her niece while wading through her own grief and trying to come to terms with Big Jim’s many betrayals.
But in that moment, Claire didn’t care. She was too tired to be charitable, too worn out to take a single step in another’s shoes, much less walk a mile. She just didn’t have it in her to try to see things from everyone else’s perspective any more. Nobody, it seemed, had ever tried to see things from hers.
They just barged in and turned her life upside down, over and over again.
‘You know something, Aunty Vee? I don’t think I’ve ever made a good decision.’
Vanessa’s stony expression softened. ‘Oh, Claire. Of course you have,’ she replied.
‘No,’ Claire said, shaking her head. ‘I really haven’t. Every decision I’ve ever made, I should have done the opposite.’
It was true. None of her choices had made her happy, not really. Well, except becoming a vet – but she could have done that without travelling halfway around the world and breaking her own heart in the process.
‘I should have come home after Mum left, no matter what Dad said. I should have tried to save the farm,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have run away to the US after Dad died. I should have finished my studies in Sydney and then come back to Bindy like Scotty wanted.’
I shouldn’t have left Scotty. I should have said yes. I shouldn’t have kissed him back last night.
I shouldn’t have stopped kissing him last night.
‘Like Scotty . . .? Sweetheart.’ Vanessa came to sit next to her. ‘All this soul-searching – is it about the wedding?’
Claire hesitated, then nodded. She felt pathetic. It was ridiculous to admit that an ex-boyfriend’s wedding had thrown her into such a tailspin. But it had. The week she had been back in Bindallarah had been exquisite and painful and revelatory and terrible all at the same time.
And Scotty had been at the centre of it all. Just like he always had.
‘Don’t you like Nina?’
‘Nina’s great! She’s perfect,’ Claire wailed. ‘I truly think she’s a lovely person and I can see why Scotty’s mad about her.’
‘But?’
‘But . . . how do they know? They met a month ago. Four weeks, Aunty Vee. How can they be sure?’
Vanessa shrugged in a way that said, You’re asking me? ‘I don’t think anybody is ever sure. Some people are just more willing than others to take the chance.’
‘It might be an awful, terrible, horrendously bad decision,
