The Maxwell Sisters

by Loretta Hill

  ‘And that’s your problem because …?’

  ‘His wife wants to put it down and he’s distraught. He doesn’t want that.’

  ‘So he can call a dog-rescue place. I don’t see how this is your drama.’

  Bronwyn smiled at Claudia’s impartial logic. Why can’t I be like that? Her best friend was a great lawyer. It was unfortunate she was unable to practice.

  ‘So what’s his next move?’ Claudia asked.

  ‘He’s asked me to take the dog.’

  ‘Take the dog where? To a kennel?’

  ‘To my home.’

  Claudia gasped. ‘He wants you to keep his dog for him?’

  ‘Just till he gets out.’

  ‘That could be years!’ Claudia’s eyes widened. ‘Bronwyn, you didn’t say yes?’

  ‘Well, no, not really.’

  ‘What do you mean, not really? Did you agree to take the dog or not?’

  ‘You should have seen him, Claud,’ Bronwyn moaned. ‘He loves that dog. He says, in this traumatic time, his Elsa is the only thing that has kept him sane. His wife couldn’t give a shit. She wants to kill it. An innocent animal, Claud! Snuffed out,’ she snapped her fingers, ‘just like that. I thought you of all people would get why I empathise.’

  ‘You do realise that the traumatic time he is talking about is the fact that he got sent to jail. And the chicken you had in your sandwich five minutes ago was also innocent but you ate it anyway.’

  Claudia had eaten a grilled vegetable salad, and Bronwyn winced guiltily. ‘Yes, but –’

  ‘Bronwyn,’ Claudia slapped a hand to her head, ‘he’s a criminal, not your friend. You can’t trust him and you cannot take that dog. It’s not your responsibility.’

  ‘Just because he committed fraud doesn’t mean he can’t have a genuine love for an animal.’

  Claudia rolled her eyes. ‘Bron, I’m not questioning his love for the animal but why can’t he call the RSPCA? I’m not advocating that this dog just be handed to the wife and put down. If it’s as loving and wonderful as he says it is, I’m sure someone will provide it with a good, permanent home. This request for you to keep the dog till he gets out is completely inappropriate and it’s unprofessional of you to even consider it. Honestly, this reminds me of the time you let that guy who got evicted for not paying his rent sleep on your couch.’

  ‘He was a nice guy,’ Bronwyn protested. ‘Just a little misunderstood.’

  ‘Bronwyn, he stole all your credit cards.’

  ‘That was my fault,’ Bronwyn quickly jumped to his defence. ‘I left my purse on the kitchen counter. It was just too much of a temptation for him.’

  ‘So now you’re blaming yourself for his thieving?’

  ‘He was going through a rough patch. He wasn’t thinking clearly.’

  ‘Honestly,’ Claudia briefly closed her eyes, ‘sometimes I don’t know how you get through your day.’

  ‘There! You see!’ Bronwyn stabbed the table triumphantly as Claudia hit upon the crux of her problem. ‘I’m just not cut out to be a lawyer.’

  Claudia pressed her lips together. ‘That’s not what I said.’

  ‘Damn it, girl, I’m not offended.’ Bronwyn threw up her hands. ‘You’re absolutely right. I’m hopeless.’

  ‘Bronwyn, you are not hopeless.’

  ‘Well, I’m not good either.’

  ‘You’re an Eddings.’

  ‘And what a curse that name has been to me since the day I was born,’ Bronwyn returned bitterly. With her mother at the bar, her father a judge, one uncle in parliament and the other running one of the most prestigious law firms in town, what chance did she have of ever doing anything else?

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘Of course I do. If I hadn’t become a lawyer, my parents would have disowned me.’

  In hindsight, that might not have been a bad thing.

  ‘So you’re saying you did five years of study and four years of work just to fit in?’

  Bronwyn shrugged. ‘I knew this was how you’d react.’

  ‘Do you blame me?’ Claudia’s eyes boggled.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Bronwyn protested. ‘My mother is very controlling. You know how ambitious she is. She has all these plans and hopes for me. What was I going to say?’

  ‘No! Bron, you say no!’

  It was Bronwyn’s turn to get cross. ‘Well, if that isn’t the kettle smoking pot, I don’t know what is!’

  ‘You mean the pot calling the kettle black.’ Claudia grinned.

  ‘Whatever.’ Bronwyn tossed her head indignantly. ‘I’m not the only one at this table who caved in to family obligation.’

  ‘Good point,’ Claudia conceded, then cunningly changed the subject. ‘But you still haven’t answered my question. Did you agree to take his dog or not?’

  Bronwyn veiled her eyes. ‘I said I needed a couple of days to think about it.’

  ‘Bron.’

  ‘The animal is on death row, Claud. What would you have done?’

  ‘Any number of things, but not that.’

  Bronwyn straightened her shoulders. ‘He said I was the only one he trusted.’

  ‘That’s what worries me,’ Claudia’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t take the dog, Bron. Promise me.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Bronwyn held up her hands. ‘I won’t take the dog. It’s not like it would be an easy thing to do anyway. My apartment building doesn’t allow pets.’ She frowned. ‘Just another reason why I hate it.’

  ‘I love your place,’ Claudia protested. ‘It’s small enough to have character but big enough to feel luxurious. It’s perfect.’

  ‘It’s numbing.’

  ‘Numbing?’ Claudia choked. ‘Honey, you want to talk numbing? I still live with my parents.’

  Bronwyn sighed, watching the traffic outside the window but not actually seeing it. ‘Yeah … in the most magical place on earth.’

  Claudia impatiently took another sip of tea. ‘Did you hear me? With. My. Parents.’

  ‘In a gigantic house, on a huge property,’ Bronwyn continued. ‘You probably barely even see each other.’

  Claudia snorted. ‘I wish. Believe me, all of Yallingup isn’t big enough for the three of us, not to mention dear brother Chris as well.’

  Yallingup.

  Bronwyn felt an immediate pang of both envy and longing as her friend named the place she had, for years, considered her private sanctuary. Not that she’d ever told Claudia that. It would have been too much pressure to put on their relationship, especially in the beginning.

  Bronwyn dropped her gaze. ‘I miss it, that’s all.’

  ‘Then come and visit, like you used to. I could use the distraction.’

  A mere three hours’ drive from Perth, Yallingup was a haven of organic produce, gorgeous beaches and sweet country air. It was no wonder Claudia had grown up with a strong desire to save the planet and everyone on it. It was also a popular holiday destination for many city dwellers. For Bronwyn, however, it represented freedom – a place to escape.

  A place to hide.

  It had been her alternate reality – a life that Claudia took for granted and that Bronwyn would never have.

  ‘Claud,’ she said softly, ‘didn’t you ever wonder why I was always so keen to come home with you on our uni breaks?’

  Claudia grinned. ‘Because you’re a good friend and you wanted to help out even though you knew my family couldn’t afford to pay you.’

  ‘Unfortunately I can’t say that’s the whole reason.’

  Grape-picking in February, working in the cellar door in June – she had loved every minute away from her parents’ world. Oak Hills Winery was a family-run business with a family-run flavour. It felt more like home there than any of the mansions her parents had shifted her through during her choppy childhood, which was characterised mostly by their contentious and long-winded divorce. The memories she had of Oak Hills were more meaningful than anything she’d experienced in the city. It had been the be
st sort of therapy, squished as she was between stressful study and the nagging of ambitious parents. If anyone deserved to be envied, it was Claudia.

  ‘Claudia, you have a family. A real family.’

  Claudia’s large blue eyes rolled. ‘Tell me about it. Can’t bloody get away from them.’

  ‘You don’t know how lucky you are.’

  Claudia had two brothers and two parents who interfered in her life as much as they loved her. Sure, the Franklins had their problems, but they talked about them bluntly or fought like cats and dogs. Bronwyn couldn’t imagine speaking her mind to her mother. Ever.

  ‘Believe me, my family takes as much as they give,’ Claudia remarked bitterly. ‘You know where I would be right now if it weren’t for them? Here in the city with you.’

  After her graduation and before she had been called back to Oak Hills, Claudia had worked for two years in Perth as a lawyer. She had loved every second of it. Bronwyn remembered whenever they’d caught up for lunch Claudia would be high on the case she was working on. Eager to discuss what hole in the evidence there might be, the missing link in her circle of witnesses or the latest gossip from the bar, when all Bronwyn had wanted to know was what was going on in Yallingup. Once they started working, neither of them made it back to Oak Hills often. Bronwyn even less so than Claudia. In fact, she was sure she’d only been back a handful of times since becoming a lawyer and that was in the early years. She emailed the family regularly, of course, and often made plans to visit but then always seemed to have to cancel at the last minute. Law was a profession that more or less swallowed your life.

  To make her feel even more guilty, just before they graduated there had been an accident in Yallingup and one of Claudia’s brothers had become permanently disabled. When Chris Franklin had been sentenced to life in a wheelchair after a stupid prank, it had hit everybody hard. Bronwyn often thought of him and the events leading up to his terrible trauma. Not that Claudia didn’t. But she was more positive about it and proud to tell Bronwyn about how Chris was handling it.

  ‘He’s amazing, Bron. If it had been me,’ she shook her head, ‘I’m not so sure I would have bounced back like he has.’

  ‘It’s your family,’ Bronwyn had reasoned. ‘The support and encouragement you’ve given him.’

  Claudia had snorted. ‘Everyone except Jack, that is.’

  Pain throbbed in the centre of Bronwyn’s chest whenever Claudia mentioned her other brother.

  The black sheep of the family.

  The outcast.

  The man who had broken Bronwyn’s heart and abandoned them all when it counted the most.

  Not that she didn’t feel partially responsible for that. It was the one reason she couldn’t put her time in Yallingup to bed. She had to know news of Chris’s progress, if only to assuage the terrible feeling that it was her fault the two brothers had never fully reconciled and Jack hadn’t been home in years.

  Two years ago, tragedy had struck the Franklin family again. Horace, Claudia’s father, was diagnosed with glaucoma and had to pull back on his workload. With Jack gone and Chris unable to fully take the reins, Claudia had been called home to help out. If she hadn’t, Oak Hills most definitely would have gone under.

  The problem was, Claudia’s return was only supposed to be temporary.

  Weeks had turned into months.

  Months had turned into years.

  Somehow, in it all, Claudia had become stuck.

  ‘It’s never going to end, Bron.’ Her friend’s shoulders slumped now over her tea. ‘With Dad retiring completely this year because of his illness, I’m needed more than ever. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to leave Oak Hills to practice law again.’

  ‘What about Jack?’ Bronwyn was surprised at herself for asking the question. Claudia rarely mentioned him and when she did, it was always with resentment.

  ‘Are you kidding me?’ Claudia retorted. ‘We haven’t seen him in years. And I have no expectations of him doing the right thing anytime soon.’

  ‘You don’t hear from him at all?’ Bronwyn asked tentatively.

  Claudia shrugged. ‘The occasional vague email. He contacts Mum sometimes. Probably because she’s the only one who doesn’t judge him.’

  Bronwyn smiled. ‘Of course.’

  ‘No, it’s just not fair, you know,’ Claudia said crossly. ‘He gets to go off and tour Europe while I’m stuck juggling the business he was born to run. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for taking off when he did.’

  ‘Jack did love Oak Hills,’ Bronwyn whispered.

  ‘Not as much as he hates Dad.’

  ‘I see.’ Bronwyn didn’t meet her eyes.

  ‘Hey,’ Claudia eyed her knowingly, ‘what’s up with you? You always get like this when we talk about Jack.’

  ‘Like what?’ Bronwyn tried to lighten her tone.

  ‘Cagey as hell.’

  Bronwyn started. She had forgotten she was speaking to the most skilled cross-examiner on the planet. ‘You know, you’re right, you really are wasted on that vineyard.’

  ‘And yet you still haven’t answered the question.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She was never more glad that she had refrained from telling her best friend the full details of the tragic love story of her and Jack Franklin.

  Claudia’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. ‘It wouldn’t have anything to do with that kiss you two shared in the gazebo when everybody wasn’t looking?’

  ‘Puh-lease.’ She tossed her head a little too indignantly. ‘That was a big fat nothing.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Claudia shrugged. ‘You were awfully upset about it at the time.’

  ‘I was nineteen,’ Bronwyn scoffed. ‘And incredibly idealistic. Ripe for lessons in love.’

  Claudia laughed. ‘Oh, but now you’re all worldly and sophisticated. Nobody could pull the wool over your eyes.’

  Bronwyn shoved her shoulder playfully. ‘Stop it. That’s not nice.’

  ‘I apologise.’ Claudia said with a grin. ‘The truth is, I’m jealous of your busy love life.’

  If she meant that Bronwyn dated a lot and no one ever stuck, she was right on the money.

  ‘I don’t know what there is to be jealous of.’ Bronwyn rolled her eyes.

  ‘Come on, you’re talking to the girl who hasn’t been out on a date in months. Don’t leave me in suspense when I’m supposed to live vicariously through you. Who’s the latest?’

  Bronwyn grinned helplessly. She knew Claudia was hopeful of a story involving longing looks and tantalising flirtation. However, the latest – if you could call him that – had been more her mother’s choice than hers.

  Phillip Bilson.

  Son of a judge

  Nephew of a QC.

  He was a federal court barrister who had been born rich but now earned enough to do without his inheritance. He was good-looking, if you liked slick, pale and well-dressed. Her mother had introduced them at court one day and gently but firmly pushed her in the right direction.

  ‘Darling, if you want to marry well you have to date well, and he’s just the sort of feather I want in your cap.’

  She was beginning feel that this so-called ‘cap’ she was wearing was more like a shackle round her ankle.

  ‘So tell me all about him,’ Claudia urged.

  ‘He’s, er … nice.’ He had no sense of humour to speak of and was far more interested in himself than her, but perhaps that was just being too fussy. She’d only seen him twice, after all. Maybe she hadn’t given him a good enough chance.

  ‘Nice?’ Claudia repeated, her expression so horrified that Bronwyn felt compelled to add with a slight cough, ‘Very nice.’

  ‘Like a hot cup of tea?’ Claudia raised her eyebrows.

  ‘No, not hot. More like lukewarm.’

  ‘Okay, girl,’ Claudia flattened her palms on the table, ‘you know when you said before you hated your life? Now I believe you.’

 
Bronwyn grinned. ‘Why? Because I’m not desperately in love?’

  ‘Well, you need to feel something more than lukewarm,’ Claudia protested. ‘Remember when we were in university and we made a list of things we wanted in our ideal man?’

  It was Bronwyn’s turn to laugh. ‘The Checklist. You still remember that?’

  ‘Hey. It’s all I have to keep me warm at night at the moment. You remember the fantasy, right?’

  ‘No,’ Bronwyn lied.

  ‘Come on, The Checklist’s only got five things on it.’ Claudia tapped her chin. ‘He has to be one of the boys, a real lad but deep down incredibly romantic; smart, like wickedly intelligent; easygoing; great sense of humour and, of course, chronically good-looking.’ She tilted her head with a secret smile. ‘I’ve added blond specifically to that last point, because I do like a man with a fair head.’

  ‘You always have, haven’t you?’ Bronwyn smiled. Claudia’s last three boyfriends had been blond, all lads, smart and funny.

  ‘You definitely have a type,’ she nodded seriously. ‘I don’t know why it’s not working for you.’

  Claudia sighed. ‘Because lads want to be lads. They don’t want commitment or a serious relationship. Is it so wrong that I want the whole nine yards?’

  ‘Don’t we all,’ Bronwyn groaned wistfully. ‘But honestly, I don’t have much time for falling in love. I don’t have much time for anything really.’ She worked nearly twelve hours most days and usually all weekend. Her apartment was sparse, not because she couldn’t afford to fill it with stuff but because she had no time to shop. Her fridge was empty but her freezer was full of microwave meals. And she was the thinnest she’d ever been due to a lack of food, not exercise.

  She couldn’t remember the last movie she’d watched.

  The last book she’d read.

  Or the last walk she’d taken.

  The thing with law was, once it got a hook into your life, it started worming its way into every aspect – all in an attempt to be impressive.

  Bring in new clients.

  You’re impressive.

  Have no life.

  You’re impressive.

  Stay back later than everyone else.

  You’re impressive.

  The problem with being an Eddings was that you were expected to be more impressive than everyone else. Sometimes, the pressure of living up to the assumption that she was a cut above the rest became too much. In fact, the expectations of her colleagues were occasionally more gruelling than the actual casework itself. If she’d known that this was what her life was going to be like after she left university, she probably would have rebelled earlier.