Two Weeks 'til Christmas

by Laura Greaves

  She knew she should go back. It wasn’t Vanessa’s fault that Claire was an outcast in Bindallarah. But she couldn’t spend Christmas in Bindy – she’d told Scotty she couldn’t possibly come to his ridiculous wedding because she was working. There was no way she could sneak into town for the holidays without word getting out that she was there, without him finding out that she’d lied.

  But if she did go back, maybe she could talk to Scotty, reason with him. Maybe there wouldn’t be a wedding at all. She couldn’t let him marry a virtual stranger. She just couldn’t. Maybe she could stop this runaway train before it did some real damage.

  Claire dialled Vanessa’s number.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘Well, if it isn’t the groom-to-be. Heard the news?’

  Scotty put the four-wheel drive into park and turned off the engine. ‘Nuh,’ Scotty told his brother. ‘Reckon you could let me open the door before you tell me about whatever crisis has unfolded while I’ve been away?’

  Chris stepped back from the driver’s side door and Scotty pushed it open. He stepped onto the hard-packed gravel driveway that wound from the highway up to Cape Ashe Stud’s state-of-the-art stables and stretched. Whatever Chris wanted to tell him, it could wait. Scotty was in no mood for small-town drama right now.

  It should have been a six-hour drive from Tuncurry, where he’d spent last night, to the Shannons’ farm in the hinterland behind Bindallarah, but Scotty’s cautious driving and frequent stops to check on Autumn meant it had been closer to eight. The mare had made a remarkable recovery during her two-night stay in Sydney, where Claire’s blood tests had confirmed malignant hyperthermia. She was healthy and relaxed now – especially after her swim on Nine Mile Beach that morning – but Scotty hadn’t wanted to take any chances. Autumn had a long road ahead.

  ‘Tough trip,’ Chris said as he walked to the rear of the horse float. ‘Thanks for bringing her back, big brother. She wouldn’t have made it if it’d been anybody else.’

  Scotty nodded but didn’t reply. He was exhausted, stiff and achy. He’d planned to be back in Bindallarah on Saturday night; Autumn’s emergency meant it was now Monday evening and he’d missed a day of work. His nerves were frayed and it wasn’t just because he was worried about the horse. He couldn’t stop thinking about Claire. He’d spent the long hours behind the wheel replaying their Friday-night meeting. He couldn’t shake the feeling that gnawed at him when he thought about the way she had congratulated him on his engagement. He knew what the feeling was.

  Guilt.

  It was obvious that Claire had been blindsided by his announcement. She’d tried to hide it, but Scotty had seen the stricken look that had crossed her face. It had lasted just a fraction of a second before she’d replaced it with a smile, but it had been like a farrier’s knife to his heart. Of course Claire was shocked. He’d felt pretty stunned himself as he heard the words tumble out of his mouth. He shouldn’t have told her that way. He shouldn’t have told her at all. It was insensitive. It was cruel. He was meant to be her friend, but he’d dropped a bomb and hurt her. He was a fraud.

  He wished he’d had a chance to see her again, to explain, before he left Sydney on Sunday morning. But Claire had said she was working. He’d called and texted her, but she hadn’t replied. He’d asked after her at the clinic when he went to collect Autumn, but her colleague – Jackie, was it? – had looked strangely at him and said she wasn’t there.

  Scotty sighed and joined Chris at the float. It was too late now. Claire wasn’t going to come back to Bindallarah. He’d been crazy to think she would. He guessed they’d go back to emails every now and then. Or maybe they were done. Maybe he’d hear nothing from her for another eight years. The thought made him clench his fists in frustration.

  The brothers lowered the ramp and Chris went inside and untethered Autumn. He eased her out; she was steady on her feet again, but the heft of her unborn foal meant any movement was pretty uncomfortable for her.

  ‘She looks great, mate,’ Chris said. ‘Remind me to thank Claire next time I see her.’

  Scotty blinked, confused. ‘You mean next time I see her,’ he replied. ‘You haven’t seen Claire since you were a kid.’

  Chris led Autumn towards her stall. ‘Saw her on Saturday night,’ he called over his shoulder.

  Scotty felt his stomach drop to the soles of his worn work boots. ‘What?’ he shouted after his brother.

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I was going to tell you,’ Chris yelled back. ‘It’s big news. Claire Thorne is back in Bindy.’

  Bindallarah looked nothing like Claire remembered. Thirteen years ago she had left a sleepy town whose main street offered a pub, a bakery and a dusty grocery store that closed at noon on Saturday and didn’t open at all on Sunday. Now the wide esplanade boasted a hip little café and a Thai restaurant, with a handful of quirky-looking shops dotted among the agricultural businesses – all bustling, even at nine o’clock on a Tuesday morning. Their awnings were festooned with bells, baubles and red-and-green tinsel that glittered in the bright morning sunlight.

  The street was bookended by a supermarket and a discount variety store, and the strip of scrubby grass that bordered the beach had been landscaped into a handsome park with a towering Norfolk pine trussed up as a Christmas tree as its centrepiece.

  Somehow, Bindallarah had been dragged into the twenty-first century – and just in time for Christmas.

  ‘Wow,’ Claire said as she climbed out of Vanessa’s compact hatchback and took in the town’s lively heart. A wave of nostalgia washed over her. It was silly, really. She hadn’t wanted to leave Bindallarah at fifteen, but after everything fell apart when she was sent away to boarding school, she’d vowed she would never come back. Since her father’s death eight years ago, she’d felt nothing but antipathy for the town that had turned its back on her. She hadn’t counted on there being any trace of that teenager’s longing for her former home still lingering within her.

  ‘Things are a little different these days, huh?’ her aunt replied. Vanessa smiled at her niece over the roof of the car and looped her handbag over her shoulder. ‘Come on, let’s have a coffee and I’ll fill you in.’

  Claire hesitated. She wasn’t sure she was ready to dive back into the well of gossip that fed Bindallarah – especially when she knew Scotty’s wedding would be the talk of the town. It was the first thing Vanessa mentioned when Claire arrived. She said everyone in Bindallarah was as stunned by the news of his rapid engagement as Claire was. But her aunt hadn’t said anything about the marriage being the catastrophe Claire knew it would be. She couldn’t possibly be the only person in Scotty’s life who thought his crazy decision would lead to heartbreak, could she? She needed to take the town’s temperature on the subject, but that would mean facing the people she hadn’t seen since her father’s funeral – the people who had shunned her. She needed a little more time to psych herself up for that.

  Since arriving in Bindallarah late on Saturday night, Claire had lain low at Vanessa’s cute weatherboard cottage at the quiet northern end of town. The only person she’d spoken to besides her aunt and her cousin, Gus, was the guy at the petrol station on the highway, where she’d stopped to refuel after driving flat out from Sydney.

  But she had seen Chris Shannon, Scotty’s younger brother, pulling up at the next pump just as she’d been getting back into her car to leave. Claire knew Chris had recognised her; he’d looked at her like she was a ghost. If she knew anything about small towns, it was that everyone within a twenty-kilometre radius would have heard about the prodigal daughter’s return by now. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the reproving glares and passive-aggressive remarks quite yet.

  Claire wondered if the whispers had reached Scotty. She didn’t even know if he’d made it back to Bindallarah himself yet, though Jackie had texted to say that he’d collected Autumn from the clinic on Sunday morning and had asked for her. Claire hadn’t spoken to him since she’d left the pub on Friday night. He’d called,
but she still felt too bewildered by his news to put proper sentences together. She needed time before she saw him again – time to decide how she was going to convince him to call off his wedding.

  ‘Uh, why don’t we make it a takeaway coffee and sit on the beach?’ Claire said at length. ‘It’s been years since I’ve seen an empty beach. In Sydney there’s barely room to swing an esky.’ She laughed meekly.

  She didn’t really want coffee; it was far too warm for a hot drink. The heat she’d left in Sydney was tempered here by the sea breeze, but being further north meant the subtropical air felt sticky and close. What she wanted was a few minutes to herself – some time to process Bindallarah’s metamorphosis and where she might fit in this strange new town – and by the look of the queue snaking out of the café opposite, Vanessa would be a while.

  Her aunt paused. ‘Sure,’ she said after a beat. ‘But just so you know, sweetheart, you have nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. You and I both know what really happened with your dad. Screw what anyone else in this town thinks.’ Vanessa winked and strode across the street, her colourful kimono jacket billowing behind her as it caught the breeze.

  Easy for you to say, Claire thought. Vanessa didn’t have to live with an entire town believing she’d abandoned her father and sent him to an early grave.

  Claire watched as her aunt disappeared into the coffee shop, Bindy Brew, then let her gaze drift down the street. Her breath caught as she spotted Scotty’s clinic, the Bindallarah Veterinary Hospital, sandwiched between the post office and a surf shop. And two doors down, above a trendy store selling children’s clothes and wooden toys, looping script across wide windows advertised the location of the imaginatively named Yoga by Nina. The vet clinic didn’t appear to be open yet, but Claire could see shadows moving across the yoga studio walls.

  So the future Mr and Mrs Shannon would live and work virtually shoulder to shoulder. They must have met when Nina opened her business right on Scotty’s doorstep. Claire felt another surge of envy as she imagined being able to see Scotty every day the way Nina would, the way she had when they were teenagers, before she was sent away.

  ‘For God’s sake, Thorne. Get a grip,’ she muttered under her breath. It was ludicrous to feel envious of a woman she’d never even met.

  She swallowed the sick sensation and turned away from the street, walking down the short sandy path to the beach. Growing up, the thing Claire had loved most about Bindallarah was its wide, crescent-shaped beach. She had spent hours there, riding one of the Shannons’ gentle ponies in the surf or reading magazines on the sand while Scotty had ploughed through veterinary textbooks way too advanced for a high school student next to her. When she and Scotty had become a couple, the dunes became their meeting spot – the only place they could snatch time together away from their disapproving parents, who thought they were too young to be so serious about each other.

  When she’d left for boarding school in Sydney, the beach became a memory. She didn’t have many happy ones of Bindallarah, but, Claire suddenly realised, Scotty was in them all. She cursed herself for waiting so long to come back.

  Her mood lifted as she emerged from the bush-lined path onto the pristine white sand and saw that the beach hadn’t changed at all. She dropped down onto the sand and sat cross-legged, drinking it all in. At the southern end, in the shadow of the jagged rock formation atop Tershen Head, a handful of surfers bobbed like corks on the swell, hoping to catch a wave on the famous right-hand point break. In the middle of the beach, close to where she sat, the local surf lifesaving club had set out the red-and-yellow flags that marked the safest swimming spot. A couple of young kids splashed about in the shallows while their mothers kept close watch from nearby towels. Aside from them, Claire had the entire beach to herself.

  Almost to herself, she realised, suddenly irritated as she squinted at the shore’s northern end. A tall figure was approaching, accompanied by a dog with a strange bouncing gait. Claire’s irritation dissipated in an instant. She knew it was Scotty before she could even make out his face. She’d recognise his purposeful march anywhere.

  She stood up and brushed the sand from her backside, wishing she’d taken the time to throw on something a little more elegant than her vintage green sundress and flat brown leather sandals. Then again, she’d packed in such a hurry she doubted she’d actually brought anything that could be considered elegant.

  The thoughts that had filled her mind just moments ago – thoughts of wanting to wait a while before she saw him – vanished like sea spray. Claire raised a hand in greeting. ‘Hi,’ she called out when Scotty was still a good fifty metres away.

  Scotty waved back. ‘Hey,’ he shouted over the roar of the surf. At the sound of his voice, the dog unleashed a barrage of excited barks and sprinted towards Claire. The odd canter she had noticed from a distance disappeared when the animal accelerated and Claire realised the dog only had three legs; his front right had been amputated at the shoulder. The disability that hobbled him at walking pace vanished at speed. She wondered wryly if Scotty had noticed that. The dog obviously shared his master’s belief that some things in life were best done as quickly as possible.

  ‘Tank! Stop!’ Scotty yelled, but it was no use. Tank barrelled into Claire like a missile, knocking her to her knees and proceeding to cover her in slobbery kisses. She shrieked with laughter at the dog’s enthusiastic greeting.

  A moment later, Scotty was at her side. ‘Tank, get out of it,’ he growled, hauling away her three-legged paramour – which Claire could now see was some kind of cattle dog mix – by the collar. ‘Sorry, Claire. Are you okay?’

  Claire took Scotty’s outstretched hand and let him pull her to her feet. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, still laughing. Tank sat, his wagging tail sweeping broad arcs in the sand. ‘That’s quite a wingman you’ve got there.’

  ‘What can I say? He knows my type.’ Scotty flashed a rakish grin that made Claire feel light-headed. He looked relaxed and happy in his black jeans and blue checked shirt. A black cap that bore the vet clinic’s logo covered his hair; the strands that peeked out were still damp from the shower. ‘Anyway, I’m so glad I ran into you.’

  ‘You are?’ She felt her palms grow clammy.

  He didn’t sound surprised to see her in Bindallarah. Word of her arrival had definitely reached him, then. The town’s bush telegraph didn’t miss a beat.

  ‘I was just over at Vanessa’s place looking for you. Gus said you’d come into town. I tried to get hold of you before I left Sydney.’

  She thought of the half-a-dozen missed calls and text messages she’d ignored as she had driven grimly to Bindy on Saturday. ‘Oh, right. Sorry. I was, um . . .’ Claire tried in vain to think of a plausible excuse for ghosting the man mere hours after he’d told her how much her friendship meant to him. Somehow she didn’t think ‘I couldn’t call you back because I was on my way here to stop your wedding’ was going to cut it.

  ‘Working, right? Yeah, I figured you must have had to do some fast talking to swing the time off.’

  Swing the time off? Claire felt flustered, confused. It must have been the sea air. Then the penny dropped.

  ‘Yes! Because I was supposed to be working right through Christmas,’ she said, making a mental note to keep better track of her lies. ‘That’s right. I had to change some things around, so that I could come here instead. I was going to call you once I’d settled in.’

  ‘Well, I just want to say thank you,’ Scotty said. He took her hand and her skin burned within his grasp. ‘It means so much to me that you’re here, Claire. I know Bindallarah hasn’t always been the happiest place for you. I get that coming back here is hard for you, but I’m so glad you decided to do it.’

  ‘I’m glad too,’ she replied. And she meant it. She was glad – glad to reconnect with Vanessa and Gus, glad to feel the silky sand of Bindallarah Beach between her toes, glad to see the town she had once loved thriving, despite what its inhabitants may think of her. But mostly, glad t
o be with Scotty again. Not with him, she mentally corrected herself. But near him. That was enough.

  He cleared his throat. ‘I also, um, I want to apologise. For the way I told you about Nina, about my . . . engagement.’ Scotty’s green-eyed gaze bored into hers, searching for absolution.

  ‘Scotty, you have nothing to apologise for,’ she said. ‘You’re my friend. I’m happy for you.’ It was kind of the truth. She was happy he’d found love. That was exactly why she had to make him see that rushing into marriage was a mistake. It was because he was her friend that she had to make sure he protected his heart.

  He looked uncertain. ‘I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you like that. With our history . . . you deserve better from me.’

  Without warning, Claire felt her throat tighten. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Damn him! It was just like Scotty to be so generous and understanding when she was there with a dark ulterior motive. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, overwhelmed by a sharp yearning to turn back the clock six months, before she’d forced herself back into his life again. She should have just let him be.

  You deserve better from me. No. He deserved better than her. He always had.

  She opened her eyes. ‘Listen,’ she said, swallowing the hard lump in her throat. ‘What are you doing tonight? Why don’t you come to Vanessa’s place for dinner?’

  His face lit up. ‘Really?’

  Claire returned his grin. ‘Absolutely. You and Nina. I’d love to meet your one and only.’

  Before she pulled out all the stops to prevent Scotty from doing something that she was sure was doomed to failure, she should at least try to get to know the woman who had inspired his impetuousness, she told herself. Deep down, Claire doubted his rush to the altar would ever make sense to her. But maybe if she could see what Scotty saw she’d start to understand why he felt compelled to yoke his life to Nina’s in such a hurry. If there was some way she could abandon her mission in good conscience, she owed it to him to look for it. She didn’t want to cause Scotty any more pain than she already had.