Two Weeks 'til Christmas

by Laura Greaves

  Well, most people. People whose goals weren’t as reckless as marrying someone they hardly knew.

  When the Christmas crowds filling Bindy’s main street got too much, Claire bade Alex farewell and they went their separate ways. Now she headed for the beach, her favourite route back to Vanessa’s cottage. Somehow it was even more beautiful on this tempestuous morning than on a sunny day, the moody sea foaming and tossing beneath a portentous sky. The rain had stopped, but the wind howled like a gale in a Gothic novel. Claire’s bare skin stung where the sand whipped against it.

  She thought about Alex as she walked. Claire had enjoyed their spontaneous morning date – in fact, she was surprised by how content she felt in Alex’s company. Did he make her weak at the knees? No – but she still had a lot of years-old baggage to discard before she was truly comfortable with this ‘new’ Alex Jessop. Maybe, if she were willing to give him a chance, that chemistry would develop.

  Alex wasn’t like the men Claire usually dated. The long hours and erratic shifts she worked in Sydney meant her options were pretty much limited to other vets. No, she realised, she had limited her options to other vets. Men who, like her, were deliberate, methodical and rarely saw the sun.

  Alex was the polar opposite. He was ebullient and enthusiastic, a bit of a wheeler-dealer, but in an honest and undeniably charming way. He reminded her of a labrador: positive, intelligent, and always looking for the next adventure.

  Was that bad, she wondered? Comparing a potential boyfriend to a family pet? This was all new to her. She’d enjoyed the company of two very different but equally nice men in Bindallarah – it was more exposure to the opposite sex than she’d had in two months in Sydney.

  And one incredible kiss.

  Claire tutted, mad at herself as her thoughts drifted back to Scotty yet again. He was under her skin like a splinter she just couldn’t extract. And she knew why. It was because, in spite of everything, in spite of her anger and confusion, she couldn’t stop worrying about him. She was even more concerned now that she’d witnessed his argument with Nina.

  Did Nina know about the kiss? What Claire had witnessed on the street seemed to suggest she must, but she knew better than to assume anything when it came to Scotty. If Nina had called off the wedding, surely Scotty would be feeling devastated. But what if she hadn’t called it off? What if they were still going to get hitched on Christmas Eve? Claire didn’t know which scenario was worse.

  And what did Nina mean when she said, ‘Tell Claire’?

  She wondered if she should find Nina, talk to her, figure out for sure what she knew. If Scotty had told her about the kiss, then Claire owed her an apology. And if he hadn’t, what then? Though she had resolved earlier to keep her mouth shut, Claire just couldn’t shake the feeling that Nina deserved the truth. But would it help her? It might only wound her. Claire just couldn’t decide what was the right thing to do.

  She reached the northern end of the beach and climbed up through the dunes to Vanessa’s front gate. Her aunt was in the front garden, wearing an oversized straw hat and deadheading her rosebushes.

  ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ Vanessa said. ‘Gus told me you were up and about early this morning. Christmas shopping?’

  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 ab
out 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, though. It might make them both miserable,’ Claire countered.

  ‘Or it might be a wonderful, magical, joyous decision. It might make them both blissfully happy,’ said Vanessa.

  She supposed her aunt might be right, but Claire simply couldn’t quash her doubts about the match. She thought back to her day of dress shopping with Nina, when the bride-to-be had seemed so unfussed about the wedding. She was sure she hadn’t imagined it. And, obviously, Scotty kissing Claire last night wasn’t normal behaviour for a loved-up groom, even one who insisted his wedding would go ahead no matter what. They both had reservations, she was certain of it.

  Just because somebody could ignore their gut instinct, it didn’t mean they should. Having the ability to drown out the little voice in their head whispering ‘this isn’t a good idea’ wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Charging ahead with a plan when all evidence pointed to going back to the drawing board wasn’t always a sign of strength.

  Claire knew all too well that it was often a bright-red flag that signalled weakness.

  In an instant, Claire’s thoughts swung a hundred and eighty degrees. She couldn’t give up trying to save Scotty and Nina from themselves. If Scotty wouldn’t listen to reason, she would take her case to the High Court of Nina. She had to tell her about the kiss. It was the right thing to do, Claire was almost certain of it.

  And if it wasn’t . . . well, what was one more bad decision?

  Claire still couldn’t quite believe Bindallarah had its own yoga studio. Growing up, the CWA had held a weekly class, run by an ancient hippy couple who lived in an actual treehouse outside Alison Bay.

  But Yoga by Nina was the real deal – even if technically it was Alex’s business and not Nina’s. Claire emerged from the staircase that led up from the kids’ clothing store and peeked through the studio door into a tranquil oasis of plush cream carpet, leafy green pot plants and a wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

  It still had the unique aroma of cloying incense and sweaty sneakers that all yoga studios seemed to share, however, so she was pleased to see that Bindy hadn’t grown too big for its boots just yet.

  A schedule tacked to the door advertised more class styles than Claire knew existed running six days a week. A quick glance at the Saturday column told her that the next class wasn’t until later in the afternoon. She went inside and found Nina alone, sitting barefoot and cross-legged on the floor with her back to the mirror. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be meditating.

  The thick carpet absorbed Claire’s footsteps and Nina didn’t hear her come in. She waited awkwardly for a few moments, hoping Nina would sense her presence, but she seemed to be in a deep trance.

  Claire didn’t want to just start talking – Nina would likely have a heart attack. Eventually she settled for quietly clearing her throat.

  Nina didn’t startle. Instead she exhaled through her nose and calmly opened her eyes, as if she’d been expecting company and Claire was right on time.

  ‘Claire! How lovely to see you,’ Nina said warmly. She stretched out her legs and stood up.

  Claire was taken aback. This wasn’t the greeting she’d expected from the fiancée of a man she’d passionately kissed the night before. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. She had come to confess, but there was a part of her that hoped Scotty had already done it.

  Claire had meant it when she told Vanessa that she thought Nina was lovely. She didn’t relish the prospect of hurting her, but she had to believe that a little pain now would spare both Scotty and Nina a lifetime of agony.

  ‘Have you come for a class?’ Nina went on. ‘The next one isn’t until four, but I’d be happy to book you in. Your first class here is free.’ She crossed the studio to a small desk in the corner and picked up what looked like an enrolment form.

  ‘Uh, no. Yoga isn’t really my thing.’ All that deep breathing, contemplation and being at one with the universe made Claire feel itchy. ‘I came to see you.’

  ‘Oh, you’re so sweet,’ Nina said, smiling brightly. ‘I was going to call you today, actually. I just talked to Scotty.’

  Uh-oh.

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Yeah. We decided that we can’t possibly get married —’

  ‘What?’

  ‘— without having bachelor and bachelorette parties. Although apparently you call them bucks’ and hens’ nights here? Which is one more thing I don’t get about Australia, but that’s fine. So will you come?’

  Claire’s head was swimming. ‘Um, Nina, I need to —’

  ‘It’s super casual. No strippers or anything awful like that,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘We’re breaking with tradition and having a joint party. You know, since the wedding is only a week away.’

  ‘When is it?’ Claire asked in a reedy voice.

  ‘Thursday night, seven-thirty, on the beach. We were going to have it at Cape Ashe, but all the horses are in isolation so we can’t do it.’

  Autumn. Claire really needed to get back up to Cape Ashe Stud to see how the mare was coping and show Chris how to clean the trach tube. Under normal circumstances she would have headed back there first thing, but last night had been anything but normal. Claire’s mind definitely hadn’t been on the job all day.

  ‘I know,’ she said absently.

  ‘Oh, that’s right! Scotty told me you were up there last night,’ Nina said. She swiped at the air as if amazed at her own forgetfulness.

  ‘He did?’ Claire studied Nina’s face for any hint that she knew what had happened. ‘Did he say anything else?’

  ‘Only that you were amazing.’

  Well, that was certainly open for interpretation.

  ‘God,’ Nina said, perching on the edge of the desk. ‘I can’t tell you how much I miss working as a vet. I was actually a bit jealous when Scotty told me what the two of you did last night. I love teaching yoga, but the sooner I can get my permanent residency and take the NVE, the better.’

  It was almost painful listening to Nina talk about her plans for the future, knowing what she knew. Would she feel as positive about what was to come if she knew she was about to marry a man who had already been unfaithful to her?

  There was only one way to find out.

  ‘Nina, I really have to tell you something,’ Claire said, the words tumbling out. ‘Last night, after we operated on Autumn, Scotty —’

  ‘Don’t.’

  It was a single word, but it shook Claire to her core. ‘Sorry?’ she whispered.

  Nina left the desk and walked slowly towards Claire. When she reached her, she smiled and took her hand.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me anything, Claire,’ she said.

  ‘Nina, you don’t understand. Scotty —’

  ‘I know Scotty means a lot to you,’ Nina cut in again. ‘And I know you have questions about this wedding. I appreciate your concern, Claire. I truly do. But you don’t need to worry about me.’

  Claire didn’t know what to think, particularly the way Nina emphasised the last word. She had never felt so mystified in her life. It seemed l
ike Nina was telling Claire she knew about the kiss. But if she knew, why was she being so kind?

  ‘Just tell me what’s going on, Nina,’ she implored. ‘Please.’

  Nina smiled, but she looked sad. ‘I really wish I could, but it’s not my place.’

  Claire shook her head. ‘I don’t understand any of this.’

  ‘That kind of makes two of us.’ Nina’s laugh eased the tension slightly. ‘A week ago my life was normal, kinda boring even. I was just teaching yoga, going to the beach, and hanging out with the local vet. Then he calls me up and asks me to marry him and everything goes bananas.’

  Claire frowned. ‘Scotty proposed over the phone?’

  ‘I know. So romantic, right?’ Nina said, rolling her eyes. ‘He’d been in Melbourne at that conference. He actually woke me up at, like, midnight. I was so annoyed because I teach a dawn class on Saturdays, so I always go to sleep early on Friday nights.’

  It suddenly felt like all the air had been sucked from the room. ‘This was Friday last week?’ Claire said. She wanted to be sure she’d heard Nina correctly. ‘Midnight last Friday?’

  A curious look crossed Nina’s face. ‘Yeah,’ she said slowly. ‘Why?’

  Claire began to tremble. Nina and the yoga studio seemed to fade away. She knew this feeling. The last time she’d felt it was eight years ago, the night Scotty had asked her to be his wife.

  It was anger. Pure white-hot rage.

  That Friday was the day Scotty had turned up at the clinic in Sydney with Autumn in the throes of heat stroke. Claire had met him for a drink that night and he’d told her about his quickfire engagement.

  But she had been at home in bed by ten p.m., tangled in sweaty sheets and staring at the ceiling as she had tried to make sense of it all.

  Now Nina was saying Scotty popped the question at midnight. That meant he proposed after he’d already told Claire he was getting married. He had lied to her.