Chapter Two
CHAPTER
TWO
Beth pushed her laptop away and slumped over the kitchen table.
What a complete waste of time. She’d spent the last four days trawling the internet, but not a single listed rental compared to this place.
Her best options were a share house—absolutely not—or a tiny shack that looked as if it had mould growing in almost every room.
She sighed. It wasn’t like she had to be out in a week, and with any luck, this place would take months to sell.
A digital bleating pierced the silence, making her jump.
Scrambling to her bag at the other end of the table, she riffled through its depths and pulled out her phone. It hardly ever rang, so she rarely thought to put it on silent.
An unknown number, from Western Australia of all places, flashed across the screen.
She rejected the call, reasoning the person had the wrong number, and went to the fridge to see what she could scrounge up for dinner. Not that she had much of an appetite.
Her phone started blaring again and the same number appeared. Realising she’d have to answer the call and assure the person they had the wrong number, Beth swiped the screen.
‘Hello?’
‘Yes, hello. Am I speaking with Ms Bethany Sullivan?’
Not a misdial then. ‘You are. Who’s this?’
‘Ms Sullivan, my name is Vince O’Dwyer and I’m a solicitor at Barrington and O’Dwyer Solicitors in Busselton, Western Australia. I’m calling to follow up about the contents of the letter you received late last week.’
‘Letter? What letter?’ Her gaze tracked to the stack of catalogues she’d dumped on the kitchen countertop days ago. The white envelope she’d had to sign for peeked out from underneath them.
‘I sent a letter by registered mail,’ the man explained, ‘and received notification that it had been delivered several days ago.’
Pushing the catalogues aside, she picked up the envelope and took in the sender’s details in the top corner. Barrington and O’Dwyer Solicitors. ‘I have it,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I … I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. What’s this about?’
He hesitated. ‘It’s probably best if you read through it and get in touch when you’re ready.’
‘No, please,’ she said, panicking. ‘Just tell me.’ As far as Beth knew, she’d never even set foot in Western Australia, so did this have something to do with Rosie?
The memory of a conversation she’d once tried to have with her mother came unbidden. She must’ve been about fourteen and unsurprisingly antagonistic for someone her age, but on this particular day, she’d been justifiably peeved that they were packing up and moving once again.
‘Why don’t we ever head west?’ she’d grumbled as Rosie thumbed through her well-worn travel guide.
When Rosie didn’t respond, Beth goaded her. ‘Surely it isn’t as boring in Perth as it is here in Adelaide.’
Rosie had pursed her lips but offered no explanation.
With a huff, Beth had stomped off to her room, where she’d sulked for the rest of the day, leaving Rosie to once again make the decision about where they moved next.
Beth had gotten used to her wishes being ignored, but now, she wondered why her mother had harboured such an aversion to crossing the Nullarbor.
Every worst-case scenario ran through her head. Had her mother committed a crime of some sort? Is that why a lawyer had tracked Beth down? Was he trying to locate Rosie?
Just as she was on the verge of blurting out that her mother had passed away four years ago, Vince cleared his throat.
‘Are you sitting down, Ms Sullivan?’
Incapable of taking a single step let alone moving across the room to the nearest chair, Beth stood rooted firmly to the spot. ‘Yes, I am,’ she lied.
‘Right.’ Vince heaved a sigh. ‘Ms Sullivan, I regret to inform you of the death of your great aunt, Prudence Campbell.’
Once his words registered, Beth sagged against the counter, her relief instant. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong Bethany Sullivan. I never had an aunt, least of all one by that name.’
‘Hmm. Your mother’s name is Rosalyn Sullivan, correct?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ She steeled herself. ‘She died four years ago.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ Vince allowed her a moment before continuing.
‘But I’m afraid that means I’ve made no mistake, though it did take me some time to track you down.
It wasn’t until I considered that your mother may have reverted to her birth name and changed yours to match that I managed to find you. ’
His words hung heavy in the air. Surely, she hadn’t heard him correctly?
‘I’m sorry, w-what did you say?’
‘Uh … according to the information I have, your mother took your father’s last name when they married and you were given his surname at birth.’
‘M-my father?’ The room swayed dangerously.
‘Yes, your father. Mr Bryce Campbell.’ A pause. ‘Again, I’m sorry for your loss.’
Losing all strength, Beth sank to the floor. To hear his name, her father’s name, spoken so freely after all this time. And yet …
‘His last name was Campbell? Are you sure?’
She barely remembered her father but knew she’d loved him desperately.
And although she’d never forgotten his warm and comforting presence, that’s all she had of him.
There were no photos or keepsakes or stories, because each time Beth had asked about him, Rosie had plunged into a bout of depression.
And so, to keep her mum smiling, Beth had learned not to ask questions.
‘It was,’ Vince assured her. ‘Prudence Campbell was your father’s aunt, Ms Sullivan.’
She leaned her head on her knees, trying to process everything. Rosie had lied to her. She’d made Beth believe they had no other relatives. It’s just you and me against the world, kiddo.
But her last name had once been Campbell. And apparently she’d had an aunt.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘This … it’s a lot to take in.’
‘There’s no need to apologise, I assure you.’
She lifted her head, ready for the conversation to end, but Vince had more to say.
‘Ms Sullivan, you are Prudence Campbell’s last remaining blood relative, and as such, she named you as her sole beneficiary. You’re set to inherit her entire estate.’
Surely this was a cruel, sick joke? She’d only learned of her aunt’s existence a few minutes ago.
‘There are some conditions you’ll need to meet, which are all outlined in the letter I sent. I suggest you review its contents and get back to me when you’re ready.’
Vaguely, Beth registered that it was her turn to speak. ‘Uh, thank you.’
‘Take all the time you need, Ms Sullivan.’
Feeling more than a little light-headed, Beth disconnected the call, closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
In through her nose, out through her mouth.
This was too much. Too many lies to deal with.
Or perhaps not. Maybe Rosie hadn’t known about Beth’s aunt.
But then, how had Prudence Campbell known about Beth?
In through her nose. Out through her mouth.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, trying to keep her tears at bay. Asking questions about the one person who wasn’t here to answer them would do more harm than good. Rosie was all Beth had ever had; she refused to taint her memories of her mum.
After a few more minutes of deep breathing, her racing heart slowed and she was ready to tackle whatever was in Vince’s letter.
Rising from the floor, she went through the motions of preparing a glass of iced water with a splash of lemon, then retrieved the envelope from the kitchen counter.
Taking the letter and her drink into the rear courtyard, she sat at her little bistro setting.
She loved it out here, surrounded by tropical garden with not another person in sight.
It was peaceful, the perfect spot to relax.
And the only place she felt capable of carrying out this task.
She laid the envelope on the table in front of her. Such a monumental truth bomb packed into a teeny, tiny package. Would she be blindsided once again when she opened it? Was there anything Vince hadn’t told her? He’d seemed adamant that she’d need time to consider its contents.
Her hands shook as she reached for the letter. Opening it would be like ripping off a bandaid.
Refusing to let her emotions build into something uncontrollable, she wasted no more time in tearing open the envelope and extracting the papers it contained.
On top was a letter from Barrington and O’Dwyer.
Scanning the opening paragraphs, she found details corroborating Vince’s story.
Prudence Campbell had passed away eight months ago in an aged-care home in Busselton, Western Australia.
Beth’s heart ached with the knowledge that she’d had family out there, someone besides Rosie.
How many times over the years had she wished for a sibling?
A cousin? A grandparent? If she’d known about Prudence Campbell, she could’ve—would’ve made an effort to get to know her.
Her great aunt. A legitimate connection to the father she barely remembered.
Prudence could’ve shared stories of Bryce, made him come alive for Beth in a way Rosie had never been willing, or able, to do.
Beth could’ve been there for her aunt when she’d moved into care, held her hand when her health deteriorated.
Only now it was too late. Prudence was gone.
Swiping at the tear making its way down her cheek, Beth read on.
‘Oh my god!’ Her hand flew to her lips, her words warming her fingers.
The text on the page blurred and an age passed, the courtyard spinning slightly, before she formulated another coherent thought and read the sentence again, just to be sure.
Ms Campbell’s estate includes cash funds, as well as a house and property in Karlup, Western Australia.
A house? She’d just inherited a house? And money?
She glanced, somewhat hesitantly, at her beloved cottage, with its sage green walls and pretty white trim. It seemed too serendipitous. Was this inheritance the miracle she’d prayed for? Could it fund her purchase of the cottage? Could she actually buy her dream home?
She kept reading, eager for more details.
It is my duty, however, to inform you that conditions have been placed on the gifts. To claim your inheritance, you are required to travel to Western Australia and live within the district of Karlup for a period of three months.
Beth frowned. Why would an aunt she’d never even known ask her to uproot her life for three months?
The letter went on to say that she’d be given provisional access to the house during that period and a stipend from the estate would be offered to cover living expenses and any repairs or improvements to the property that she deemed necessary.
Once the three months had elapsed, she would secure her inheritance.
If, however, she was unable or unwilling to meet these conditions, the property would be sold and the proceeds donated to the local farming community.
‘Whoa.’ Prudence Campbell hadn’t been mucking around when she’d drawn up her will.
Though, considering she’d never met Beth, and hadn’t known a single thing about her, it was actually quite logical to make her gifts conditional.
Beth could respect that decision. What she didn’t understand was her aunt’s insistence that she live in the district of Karlup.
Why not in the house she’d left her? That would at least make sense.
So now Beth had a decision to make—either uproot her life for three months or kiss this life-changing inheritance goodbye. She could challenge the terms of the will, she supposed, but time was of the essence. There was a for sale sign in front of her cottage, after all.
But taking this opportunity would surely mean giving up her job, which she didn’t want to do despite her invisibility in the lunchroom.
Worrying at the corner of her mouth, Beth looked down at the solicitor’s letter once more, certain that she’d come to a decision. Only time would tell if it was the right one.