by Fiona Lowe
I hate you so much. She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him and since his descent into the flabby forties, that wasn’t very far. The only way to get the information she wanted was to play the humility card straight into Cameron’s need to feel superior, and try not to gag.
‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting you in a compromising position. Forget I asked.’
His expression was the smug one he always used when he thought he’d won. ‘We’re family, Sarah, and I trust you. Instead of Mum giving bland Dan instructions on her share portfolio and other investments, she’s giving them to Rupert.’
‘So, Dan’s still the executor of her will?’
‘The last will she made is years old and with the grandchildren growing up, Rupert suggested she make a new one.’
Sarah had never been privy to the contents of any of Margaret’s wills. ‘Is it different from the old one?’
‘I have no idea. I never saw it. But given the precise way Mum reeled off her instructions, I reckon it’s the same. It was obvious she’d committed them to memory a long time ago. In the long-held Jamieson tradition, she’s leaving Mill House to Anita and me.’
This was no real surprise. Given the house’s heritage, Sarah always knew it was a possibility, even if the feminist in her wasn’t happy about it. But from the hints her mother had dropped on her more mellow days, Sarah was confident that Margaret’s investment portfolio held approximately double the value of the house, meaning all three siblings would get an equal third.
‘So Ellie and I get the shares. That’s fair.’
Cameron stretched and linked his fingers behind his head. ‘Mum’s very happy that you’re already independently wealthy.’
A zip of unease narrowed her gaze, bringing him more sharply into focus. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘It means that unlike Ellie and me, an inheritance isn’t going to change your lifestyle. You can already afford whatever you want.’
This was true, but if she and Alex divorced, her net worth would halve. ‘What does that have to do with my inheritance?’
‘I believe you recently stated that inheritance is a gift not a right.’
Her mind spun. ‘Are you saying I’m not being left anything?’
‘No. Mum wouldn’t do that to you.’
The relief was extraordinary but it had barely settled over her when Cameron sent it scattering to all four points of the globe.
‘I think she’s left you a bracelet.’
‘You mean a brooch.’ Grandma Jamieson’s diamonds were not only worth a lot of money, they held sentimental value.
‘No. I think it’s that coral bracelet she got for the 1986 Melbourne Cup. She said you’d always liked it.’
Costume jewellery? Sarah breathed in so sharply she was gripped by a paroxysm of coughing. Mum loves you less. You’ve always wondered and this is the proof. The barbed words hooked into her, flooding her body with pain. She tried fighting them, tried to understand her mother’s thought processes and to see things from her point of view, but logic struggled under the onslaught of rejection. Sarah couldn’t argue the fact she enjoyed a large disposable income, but she wasn’t alone. Cameron always intimated he earned good money too, granted not quite at the same level as her and Alex, but if his spending habits were anything to go by, he was earning plenty. If any of the Jamieson siblings needed an inheritance to substantially change their lifestyle, it was Ellie.
Without a doubt, her sister had been a spoiled and difficult teenager, a university dropout and pretty much absent from their lives during her twenties. Yes, she continued to baffle Sarah with the way she kept them all at arm’s length, but Sarah couldn’t fault Ellie for not working hard. For all her sins, she’d always held down a job and not once had she asked for a handout. Ellie’s share of the inheritance would buy her a house in Mingunyah or Valley View and give her and Noah stability and security. There’d be money to replace her ageing car and there’d be money left over to invest for treats like holidays.
Margaret wasn’t overlooking Sarah; she was taking care of Ellie and Noah. Sarah tried using that thought to assuage the insidious rejection that was amplified by each beat of her heart.
‘I think Mum’s made the right decision leaving Ellie the share portfolio.’
It was Cameron’s turn to look baffled. ‘Why on earth would Mum leave Ellie anything?’
‘No.’ She shook her head violently. ‘No. Mum wouldn’t do that to her.’
‘And that’s where you’re wrong. That’s exactly what she’s done.’
The unforgiving nature of the will tangoed with the woman she thought she knew. Yes, her mother was opinionated and could be uncompromising but she hadn’t rejected Ellie’s return to the valley. At family functions, the two of them were civil and Margaret took as much or as little interest in Noah as she took in Cameron’s younger daughters. So why cut Ellie out of the will?
‘We both know Princess Ellie’s been a bitch to Mum. Why should she reward her for years of heartache and pain?’
When Cameron talked about Ellie, Sarah had always heard derision, exasperation, frustration and annoyance but this was the first time she’d ever heard dislike. He was always cocky but today there was an added something. It took her a moment and then it hit her— triumph. He was gleeful that Margaret was disinheriting Ellie.
Dazed, she stared at him as if he was a stranger. They’d never been close but he was her brother and wasn’t blood thicker than water? Except right now, that shared blood was congealing in horror.
Perhaps her mother had bypassed Ellie but left the money in trust for Noah’s education.
‘And the grandchildren?’
‘She wasn’t going to include them but I suggested she make a small bequest to each of them and give the girls some of her jewellery.’
‘You suggested …’ That’s when his treachery hit her.
This is your doing. You’re the architect of this will and Rupert’s the draughtsman.
No! You’re being paranoid.
Her mother gave the instructions for the new will before her stroke, when she was of sound mind and—Oh God. The vice-like pain in Sarah’s temples brought her hands to her head. Was this the key to the will? In the past, despite loving Cameron more than Sarah, Margaret had been deaf to his pleas regarding the sale of the saw mill and the subdivision. She’d certainly resisted giving power of attorney to anyone in the family and yet, in the last twelve months, Cameron had wrested it from her.
And he’d kept that secret too. If Margaret had been of sound mind, surely she’d have resisted Cameron’s suggestions to cut both daughters out of the will? It distressed Sarah that she couldn’t answer that question with any degree of certainty. The reality was, she saw her mother almost every day, so if there were any changes in Margaret’s cognitive abilities before the stroke, she would have noticed them. Of course she’d have noticed them.
But doubt lingered like rogue malignant cells and a series of inconsequential events trickled through her mind. On their own they meant nothing much, but as more and more tumbled in, they came together, forming a collage that told a very different story. Her meticulous mother opening the front door in her underwear. The overly generous gifts from a woman who’d always carefully meted out her money to others. The supposedly stolen car on Mother’s Day being found undamaged in the IGA carpark. The increasing paranoia that Rita Bosco was hiding things from her and a growing distrust of people she’d always placed a great deal of faith in, like Dan Horton.
Sarah bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Individually, none of those things had flagged to her there was anything wrong. Only the eight boxes of tomato juice and the batteries in the fridge had hinted that something might be slightly off and even then, she’d laughed them away. Shame burned hot on her skin. She’d got angry with Ellie for insisting their mother was confused, but Ellie was right. Her sister, the sibling who spent the least amount of time with their mother, had the pers
pective of distance.
‘Dad will be turning in his grave about this will. I’m going to talk to Mum and convince her to change her mind.’
‘Mum was very clear about what she wanted. I doubt you talking to her will make any difference.’
Sarah’s mind raced, looking for loopholes and a way to slow things down. ‘She only saw Rupert last week, so she hasn’t signed the new will yet, right?’
‘She signed the notes.’
‘Yes, but that’s not the will. I doubt any doctor will say she’s competent to sign it now, so that means the old will stands.’ Not that she knew if the old will was any fairer, but she sure as hell planned to find out.
‘Not necessarily. She also wrote a statement saying the notes are intended as an informal will. If she’s not able to sign, I have power of attorney.’
She hated the superiority in his voice and struggled to sound dispassionate. ‘I don’t think it works that way.’
‘I think you’re wrong but either way, we have very clear instructions. Rupert can apply to the court to have the notes accepted as her will.’
And seal a deal that was one hundred per cent in Cameron’s favour and exceedingly unfair to Ellie and her. ‘I’ll fight you on this every step of the way.’
He shrugged as if her threat was of no consequence. He may as well have said, I’m gonna beat you, I’m gonna beat you, in a sing-song tone, the same one he’d taunted her with each time he threw the dice, served a tennis ball, run a race and opened Christmas presents when they were kids. His confidence made her want to spit.
‘You won’t win, Sarah.’
She tugged at her jacket. ‘Will too.’
CHAPTER
13
‘Are you sure my life’s not in danger?’ Luke was screwing a faceplate to the back door at Mill House. ‘When I offered to help you move, I didn’t realise it was going to be under cover of darkness.’
‘You and me both,’ Ellie said tightly.
The move was supposed to have been quick and easy and a chance for Cassie and Luke to spend time together, but all hell had broken loose, sending Ellie’s plans pear-shaped. Instead of being tucked up in his new bedroom, Noah was staying the night with Sarah and Sarah was paying Luke to change all the locks at Mill House. This left Ellie alone with him, and moving in at eleven thirty at night.
‘Again, I’m really sorry about this.’
‘Stop apologising. This is the most excitement I’ve had in ages.’
He flashed her his smile, the one that always sent her into turmoil. First excitement surged, making her hope that he might be a person she could trust. That cautionary optimism was instantly boiled in red-hot anger at herself for being foolish enough to contemplate such a scenario. A blanket of sadness followed, settling over her like the heavy, scratchy and itchy touch of wool. Sarcasm always came next.
‘You really don’t get out much do you?’
‘I get out plenty,’ he said equably, not rising to her bait. ‘It just hasn’t involved sneaking around in the dark since I was seventeen and missed curfew. You do this sort of thing often?’
‘Not at all. I shouldn’t be doing it now.’
One minute that afternoon she’d been outside checking with Luke about delaying the move to five o’clock and the next, Sarah had come storming across the lawn with a face like thunder. Catching her by the elbow, her sister had said, ‘Luke, I’m borrowing Ellie for half an hour. Noah, you stay here and play with Luke.’
Instead of looking confused or pissed off at being summarily instructed without any consultation, Luke had waved cheerfully before picking up a whooping Noah and throwing him over his shoulder. Ellie had been the one to object.
‘I can’t leave Noah with someone I barely know.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ellie. I know Luke. He’s great with kids and he runs Auskick and the junior cricket—’
‘That doesn’t mean any—’
‘Listen,’ Sarah said tersely as Noah squealed, ‘Again, Luke, do it again!’ ‘Noah’s having fun. Just. Get. In. The. Car.’
‘This better be life or death.’
‘It’s worse.’ Sarah crunched through the gears and drove around the corner to the nature reserve. ‘Walk with me.’
As Ellie jogged to keep up with Sarah’s power walking, she listened to her sister explain their mother’s confusion, the new will, the suspected role Cameron played in its creation and his refusal to let Ellie move into Mill House. Of all the information Sarah shared, it was her apology that shocked her the most.
‘I should have believed you when you said Mum was confused. I’m sorry about that.’
‘I thought you did believe me. I mean, you took her back to hospital.’
Sarah grimaced. ‘I thought you were being dramatic. But let’s not revisit that. More than ever, you have to move into Mill House.’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea. I was only moving in so Noah felt safe and secure. If Cameron’s going to be difficult that nukes the whole point. I don’t need the hassle.’
‘It’s not his house yet. Mum’s still alive and you have just as much right to live there as Anita has to use it. We’re not letting him throw his weight around and walk all over us.’
‘Have you actually asked Mum what she thinks about me moving in?’
‘There’s no point. I’m not even sure Mum’s been thinking straight for months. But that’s another issue for another time. First things first. We’re changing the locks.’
Ellie stopped walking. ‘That’s aggressive.’
Sarah’s hands hit her hips. ‘And Cameron calling that shots isn’t? We’re pre-empting him. Occupancy is nine-tenths of the law.’
‘I think you mean possession is nine-tenths of the law.’
‘Exactly! If you’re living there it’s going to be hard for him to shift you out. Plus, it’s leverage.’
Every part of Ellie recoiled from getting involved in this drama. Sarah and Cameron’s childhood antipathy for each other had softened over the years, and Ellie thought they’d even been amicable since he’d married Anita. But now the hostility was back with a vengeance, bubbling fiercely on the surface like sulphur, complete with an acrid stench.
‘This isn’t my fight, Sarah.’
‘No, it’s our fight. It’s about being women. Sisters. It’s about equality and fairness—’
‘They’re not the same thing.’
‘Bloody hell, Ellie! Do you want Cameron to get away with stealing from us?’
She wanted to say she didn’t care about the money—she truly didn’t—because living at Mill House was going to be difficult enough for her even before it had become the battleground in a family feud. But Sarah’s ‘our fight’ burrowed in, finding memories she’d forgotten: Sarah teaching her to ride a bike after Cameron, who’d promised, kept reneging; Sarah coming home from uni three months after their father died expressly to organise Ellie’s ninth birthday party, because her mother was too distraught with grief; Cameron pinching her on the couch and Sarah telling her to pinch him right back; Sarah meeting her bus at Spencer Street in Melbourne and taking her to a musical, The Secret Garden, when she was twelve. The following day, when Sarah put her on the bus home, she’d bought her a copy of Dolly—a magazine Margaret not only disapproved of but said she was too young to read. It can be a sister secret, Ellie. They’re the best kind.
All of it belonged to a foreign place and a hazy time when she and Sarah were sisters instead of strangers.
Now, standing in the dark at Mill House holding the torch so Luke could see to work and with the chill of the night air stinging her back, she pondered the fickle emotions surrounding her memories. Memories that couldn’t be separated from the unwanted tug of family ties. Her time living in Asia, and even in Sydney, made it easy to keep the ties loose but it was harder now she was living in the valley. Despite her resolve to keep her distance, those ties snuck in under her resistance with ninja-like stealth, binding her tighter and tighter to he
r family.
Not the family—to Sarah. Why else would she plonk herself in the middle of this pitched battle between her elder siblings?
‘There you go.’ Luke pushed to his feet and opened and closed the door, checking the fit of the pins. ‘You now have the ultimate protection and convenience in locks,’ he quoted from the blurb on the packaging.
‘Thanks.’
‘No worries.’
For the first time since she’d met him out at Riverbend, he looked awkward, as if he didn’t know what to do or say next. It surprised her, because he’d always seemed to be laid back and relatively unflappable. What was more astonishing was her need to put him at ease.
‘I should probably—’
‘Cup of tea or twenty-one-year-old whiskey?’
He grinned. ‘You realise you’re not actually offering me a choice, right?’
She laughed, enjoying the feeling. ‘Dedicated tea drinker, are you?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Whiskey it is then. It’s about the only Jamieson family tradition I’d like to be able to afford.’
Luke followed her into the dining room and she hoped he didn’t notice her shiver as she crossed the threshold.
‘I guess we can turn the lights on now.’
‘What will you do if your brother turns off the power?’
‘As much as he might want to, I doubt he’ll do it. Without power, Anita can’t run her cooking classes or high teas.’
‘And it’s your mother’s house.’
‘Oh, yeah. It’s definitely my mother’s house.’ She grabbed the whiskey decanter and two glasses. ‘Come on. The den’s a lot less stuffy.’ She turned off the light and closed the door behind her, planning on keeping it permanently shut.
The den was originally part of the old servants’ quarters and located at the top of a narrow wooden staircase at the back of the house. It had been Sarah and Cameron’s teenage hangout long before it became Ellie’s escape room. Her mother had generally left her alone when she was up there. Going by the cobwebs, Margaret didn’t use the room for anything and Ellie was surprised to see her teenage posters still gracing the walls.
