Chapter Six
CHAPTER
SIX
A few weeks later, Beth sat at the desk in her room at the B&B, her laptop open in front of her, and stared at the email in her inbox.
She’d been putting off opening it all day.
Given the potential magnitude of the news it contained, she hadn’t wanted to open it before work, but now she had no excuses.
She figured one of two things was about to happen.
Either she was going to open this email and discover that Vince O’Dwyer, executor of her aunt’s will, had his wires crossed …
or she was about to find proof that Rosie had lied to her.
God, what had she been thinking, contacting the South Australian Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages? She’d made a mistake and should just delete the email.
But the longer Beth sat there staring at it, the more suspicious she became.
No, she had to open it. If she didn’t, the not knowing would drive her crazy.
Touching a finger to the trackpad on her laptop, she hovered the pointer over the email’s subject line, took a deep breath and clicked.
She scanned the first part of the email, but it simply rehashed the information she’d provided during the application process. Scrolling further, she found what she was looking for: Dear Ms Sullivan, we regret to inform you that no record of your birth exists in the state of South Australia.
What the hell?
The words played on a loop in her head—no record of your birth exists, no record of your birth exists—getting louder and more volatile with each repetition. She tried to make sense of it. Jumping to her feet, she started pacing the room. What did this mean?
Rosie had told her that she’d been born in Adelaide.
Perhaps Rosie had simply got it wrong. She’d never stayed in one place for long, after all. Maybe she’d just incorrectly recalled which state she’d been living in when her only child had been born.
The thought left a bitter taste in Beth’s mouth. What kind of person would forget a detail like that?
The only other explanation, though, was that Rosie had intentionally deceived her.
This wasn’t fair! She shouldn’t be questioning her mother’s actions or motives right now. Not when she was dead. But what choice did she have? The evidence was stacking up against her.
She shook with rage, her emotions boiling violently until she could no longer hold them in.
With a furious scream, she slammed her laptop shut, yanked it from the desk and fled her room.
Down the stairs she ran, through the foyer, out the front door and into the yard.
Intent on taking her anger out on something, anything, she lifted the computer high above her head and brought it down onto the brick-paved garden path as hard as she could.
She stood there, chest heaving, as she stared down at the remains of her busted device.
With the evidence of her mother’s betrayal no longer visible, her ire dissipated.
She fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably, because all she could think about was that she had no one, not a single person to turn to who could possibly answer her questions, or even hazard a guess.
‘Beth?’
Somewhere in the chaos of her thoughts, she registered Ellie’s voice. Sensed her presence behind her. But she didn’t—couldn’t respond. Because her heart hurt. And the pain was crippling. It stole her capacity to think. Robbed her of the ability to speak.
But when Ellie kneeled down beside her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, Beth didn’t object or pull away. How long had it been since she’d been held? Since she’d felt another person’s touch? She couldn’t even recall and that realisation brought on a fresh wave of tears.
Eventually, though, they ran dry, and just as she started contemplating what on earth she was going to say that would explain what had just happened, Ellie spoke.
‘C’mon, let’s get you inside.’
She helped Beth to her feet, taking her away from the remnants of her laptop and the proof that she’d temporarily lost her mind.
They climbed the stairs and, at the door to Beth’s room, Ellie pulled her into her arms again and held her tight.
When Ellie finally released her, she cradled Beth’s face and looked her in the eye. ‘Tell me you’ll be okay.’
Beth closed her eyes, guilt weighing her down when she noticed that Ellie’s dimples had vanished as if they’d never existed. But she nodded. ‘I’ll be okay.’ Her voice was hoarse and her words grated against the raw skin of her throat.
‘Have a shower.’ Ellie tipped her head towards Beth’s ensuite bathroom. ‘I’ll be up again in thirty minutes with some soup.’
A surge of something unfamiliar flooded Beth’s body as Ellie disappeared downstairs. Perhaps it was gratitude for a kindness delivered, though that didn’t seem to encompass the enormity of what Beth was feeling. It was something stronger, more elemental and primitive.
And then the word came unbidden.
Love.
The love one felt for a friend. A true friend.
The kind of friend who would ask no questions but would sit beside you and hold you as you cried.
The kind who’d check on your mental state after a meltdown, making you promise in so many words that you weren’t going to take your own life in the shower.
The kind of friend who would cook soup just to make you feel better.
Beth could count on Ellie, she knew that now. Knew she had her support for as long as she needed it. So, despite being completely spent, she stood under the stream of piercing hot water and washed away her tears.
Ironically, she felt stronger now. More determined. Like she might just have the capacity to achieve what she set out to do when she came here.
And no one, not even a lying, deceitful, dead mother, could take that away from her.