But if she was honest with herself, Claire knew she was really just trying to buy more time – time to get to know Nina, to figure out whether she was right for Scotty.
‘I swear I’m buying the first dress in this store that fits,’ Nina said as she pushed open the door to Satin + Heels. ‘I don’t care if it’s black or backless or made of wetsuit fabric.’
Claire giggled. ‘You are seriously the most low-maintenance bride ever. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but when I first met you yesterday I kind of assumed you’d be one of those prissy girls who spend hours in front of the mirror every day.’ She couldn’t imagine Scotty falling in love with a vain woman, but surely Nina didn’t look the way she did without a little bit of elbow grease.
‘No way, I hate that stuff,’ Nina said, wrinkling her nose. ‘Honestly, I’d be happy to get married in jeans and a T-shirt. Except it’s too darn hot in this country for jeans in December. And Scotty says I have to make some effort for this wedding.’ She rolled her eyes as if to imply it was an unreasonable request.
Claire blinked in surprise as Nina glided to the store’s formal section – a single rack of dresses in a corner by the fitting rooms. Scotty says I have to make some effort. It was a curious thing to say. Why would Scotty need to persuade his bride-to-be to glam herself up? Didn’t Nina want to feel beautiful on her big day?
Claire had learned a lot about Nina in the three hours they had spent together trawling the shops of Alison Bay. She was older than Scotty: thirty-one to his twenty-nine. She grew up in Texas – Claire had been right about her faint southern twang – and came from a big family, though her parents had died when Nina was in college and none of her siblings was able to make it to Bindallarah in time for the wedding. She came to Australia a year ago with her boyfriend, some financial bigwig, but they split up not long after arriving. Nina had bounced around different places, often working casually as a vet nurse since she wasn’t legally able to practise as a veterinarian. She met Bindy’s mayor, Alex Jessop, at a yoga retreat in Queensland in October – she was a qualified instructor and teaching yoga had helped her pay for her vet studies. Alex persuaded her to move to Bindallarah and become the ‘face’ of his new yoga studio.
It wasn’t meant to be a long-term thing, Nina told Claire. Her plan was to save ten thousand dollars to sit the National Veterinary Examination, which would mean she could register as a vet in New South Wales. Claire knew all about the notoriously tough exam – she’d purposely chosen an American university affiliated with her Australian alma mater for her postgrad studies so that her overseas qualifications would be recognised at home and she wouldn’t have to take the test herself.
But then Nina met Scotty and all her plans went right out the window. They were engaged a month later.
‘Hey, Nina,’ Claire said, joining her in flicking through the dress selection. ‘You haven’t told me yet how you and Scotty actually met.’
‘This one?’ Nina said, holding up a dusky-pink strapless dress with a full skirt.
Claire shook her head. ‘Too Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink.’
Nina returned it to the rack. ‘It was his dog, as a matter of fact,’ she said. ‘You know Tank?’
Claire nodded. She chose a floor-sweeping pale-green Grecian-style gown and held it out to Nina.
‘Well, I hit him with my car.’
The dress hit the floor. ‘You did what?’
‘I know,’ Nina wailed. ‘It’s awful. I got horribly lost trying to find this cottage up in the hinterland that I was thinking about renting. I was stressed out and I guess I wasn’t paying attention, because Tank ran right out in front of me and I just did not see him. It was right by Scotty’s place.’ She stopped herself and smiled. ‘Your old place. Thorne Hill. Scotty picked up Tank and jumped in the car with me and we rushed him straight into town to the clinic.’
‘So that’s why Tank only has three legs?’
Nina nodded, cringing. ‘We both worked on him – which technically speaking I should not have done – but we just couldn’t save the leg. Can you believe Scotty wanted anything to do with me after that? I keep waiting for him to wake up one day and tell me he’s come to his senses.’ She held the green dress at arm’s length, considering it coolly, as if revealing that she expected the man she was eleven days from marrying to change his mind was no big deal.
Was that why Nina was so laidback about buying a dress and planning the wedding? Did she not believe there would really be a wedding?
‘Nina, it was an accident,’ Claire said. She grasped Nina’s forearm. ‘Scotty knows that. Tank is fine, and it’s actually a pretty great “how we met” story. Definitely one to tell your grandkids some day.’
For the briefest of instants, Claire was sure she saw a flash of fear in Nina’s coffee-coloured eyes. It vanished before she could ponder what it meant. ‘You don’t really think Scotty would back out of the wedding, do you?’ Claire asked.
Nina tossed her hair and laughed. ‘Oh, I’m just being silly. Must be pre-wedding jitters or something,’ she said. She waggled the dress hanger. ‘I really like this one.’
‘Great,’ Claire said brightly. ‘Go try it on.’
‘No,’ Nina replied.
‘No?’
‘I want you to try it on.’
Claire frowned. ‘Me? Why? You’re the one who has to wear it.’
Nina thrust the dress into Claire’s hands. ‘I’m sure it will fit. I want to see what it will look like from Scotty’s point of view.’ She planted her hands on Claire’s shoulders and turned her to face the fitting rooms. ‘I’m going to sit in that chair by the door. Imagine I’m Scotty and you’re me, sashaying down the aisle to say “I do” and live happily ever after.’
Claire’s head swam a little at the thought. ‘You’re planning to sashay?’
Nina smiled and crossed her arms. ‘Go.’
Claire’s feet were as heavy as lead as she plodded to the fitting room. She felt deeply uncomfortable. She closed the curtain and hung the dress on a wooden peg. Stepping out of her denim cut-offs and plain black tank top, she scrutinised her reflection in the full-length mirror.
This is a crazy idea.
Claire strutting around in the dress wouldn’t tell Nina anything. They may have worn the same-sized clothing, but their bodies were completely different. Nina was a head taller, for a start. On her, the sleeveless gown’s empire waist would show off her willowy arms and impressive cleavage. It would skim her shapely hips and hang just so over her pert bottom. Her figure was undulating, exotic, all mesmerising peaks and suggestive valleys.
If Scotty were to watch Claire walk down the aisle in this dress, all he would see was an ordinary woman with precious few curves swamped by the flowing fabric. It was a pointless exercise.
But she slipped the dress over her head, anyway, if only so that she could steal a couple of minutes to think about everything Nina had told her.
For a woman whose wedding was just days away, Nina didn’t seem very excited. In fact, Claire mused, she seemed decidedly lukewarm about the whole thing. How many brides would be willing to stand idly by while their fiancé made all the arrangements – and with the help of his ex-girlfriend? Scotty and Nina’s meeting and romance had been a whirlwind, their engagement lightning fast, but now that she had a metaphorical ring on her finger – because she still wasn’t wearing an actual engagement ring – Nina seemed to have lost momentum.
Could it be that Nina shared Claire’s doubts about the speed of it all? Maybe she wanted to pump the brakes, slow things down a little and think things through before making a lifetime commitment to a man she’d basically just met.
Perhaps it wasn’t Scotty’s good sense she should be appealing to, Claire thought. Nina might be the one who would respond to a rational argument for postponing the wedding.
Claire zipped up the dress and swept aside the curtain, stepping back into the shop with a flourish. She felt ridiculous, but if Nina wanted a show, Claire wou
ld give her a show. She clutched an invisible posy and weaved slowly between racks of garments towards the other woman.
Nina leapt up from her chair. She stood with her arms stiffly by her sides and pretended to blink back tears, imitating a nervous groom. But something told Claire that, come Christmas Eve, Scotty wouldn’t be the one who’d be apprehensive about tying the knot.
‘What do you think?’ Claire asked.
‘It looks really beautiful on you, Claire,’ Nina said with what sounded like sincerity.
‘Well, thanks, but we’re supposed to be thinking about how it will look on you,’ Claire reminded her.
Nina slapped her palm to her forehead. ‘Right! Me. Okay,’ she said. ‘Well, I guess it will do fine.’
Fine? A growing sense of disquiet pricked at the edges of Claire’s thoughts. She had to say something. ‘Nina, are you okay? You seem a little . . . unenthused,’ she began. ‘If you’re having doubts about the wedding, it’s all right to say so. It’s totally normal. This is a big step you and Scotty are taking. A huge step.’
Especially when you’re taking that step at the speed of light, she managed to stop herself from adding.
Nina levelled a questioning gaze at Claire. ‘I don’t have any doubts about getting married,’ she said in a clipped voice. ‘Why would I?’
Her tone stung. ‘Not about getting married. Just about everything happening so fast,’ Claire said. She rushed to smooth things over. ‘I just mean . . . not many women could be convinced to get hitched with only two weeks to plan.’
‘Scotty didn’t have to convince me of anything. Getting married on Christmas Eve was my idea.’ Nina picked up her handbag. ‘I’ll go pay for the dress.’
Claire watched, disconcerted, as Nina took out her wallet and strode towards the counter. She scurried back to the fitting room and stepped out of the wedding gown. The mood had changed and she wasn’t sure why. One moment Nina was talking about marriage to Scotty as disinterestedly as if it was a root canal, the next she was saying she had pushed for their truncated engagement. If she was in such a fever to become Mrs Scotty Shannon, why did Nina seem so dispassionate? Scotty deserved someone who would be counting down the seconds until she became his wife. If Nina didn’t feel that way, then Claire had to make sure the wedding didn’t go ahead – for both Scotty’s and Nina’s sakes.
Claire carefully placed the dress on its hanger. Wrapping herself in the fitting-room curtain, she leaned out and handed the gown to the smiling sales assistant, who carried it to the counter and zipped it into a garment bag.
By the time Claire had put her shorts and tank top back on and re-emerged into the shop, Nina was waiting outside, the garment bag slung casually over her shoulder. Through the window, Claire could see that Nina was talking to someone, a man with neatly trimmed dark hair who was wearing an unexpectedly hip royal-blue suit. He had his back to Claire, though she knew she would be unlikely to know him, even if she could see his face. If Bindallarah was as unfamiliar to her now as a foreign country, Alison Bay was another planet.
As a child, she had visited Ally Bay just once a year, making the thirty-minute drive from Bindallarah with her mother every December to shop for Christmas presents and supplies for the coming school year. Claire felt a little foolish as she remembered how she would barely sleep the night before the annual pilgrimage, as thrilled as if she were about to visit Paris or Rome instead of a torpid beachside hamlet in the northernmost reaches of New South Wales.
She left the store and was relieved when Nina flashed a bright smile in her direction, the strangeness that had passed between them just a few minutes ago apparently forgotten.
‘Hey, Claire,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I was going to wait inside for you, but then I saw this guy passing by. This is my friend, Alex.’
The man in the blue suit turned around and, for what felt like the hundredth time since she’d returned to the district, Claire’s jaw dropped.
‘Claire Thorne,’ Alex Jessop said slowly. The high school Neanderthal-turned-mayor gave her an appraising look. ‘I heard you were back. Good to see you. You’re looking great.’
Before she could reply, Alex planted a kiss on Claire’s cheek and wrapped his arms around her.
‘Of course, I forget you already know everybody in town, Claire,’ Nina said, smiling.
‘I don’t know everybody,’ Claire mumbled. ‘Not any more.’
‘But everybody knows you,’ Alex said jovially, releasing Claire from his embrace. ‘The Thornes have sure made their mark in this neck of the woods over the years.’
Claire felt her face flush. ‘So, Alex, you’re the mayor now.’ She changed the subject. ‘I did not see that one coming.’ If Alex was going to make barbs about Claire’s past, she would happily return the favour.
Alex chuckled. ‘You’re not the only one,’ he said. His gaze roamed unabashedly over Claire’s body and she felt exposed in more ways than one. ‘It really is nice to see you, Claire. Can I buy you dinner while you’re in town? I’d love to catch up properly.’
Claire was sure she heard Nina gasp. She felt a little breathless herself. Was she hallucinating or had Alex Jessop – the erstwhile muscled football jock who had scarcely given her timid, bookish teenage self the time of day – just asked her out?
She arranged her face into what she hoped was an apologetic expression. ‘I don’t think I’ll have time, I’m afraid,’ she said, her tone entirely unrepentant. ‘Nina and Scotty’s wedding is only a few days away and I’ve promised to help out with the arrangements as much as I can.’
‘Huh,’ he said, arching an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t that generous of you? Well, if you find yourself with a free evening, give me a call.’ He extracted a business card from his back pocket and handed it to Claire.
She smiled and slid it into her handbag, making a mental note to deposit it in the first bin she saw.
‘Nina, I’ll call you later to go over the Christmas roster for the studio,’ Alex said. He pecked Nina on the cheek and went on his way.
Nina waited until her boss was out of earshot, then turned to Claire. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘That was weird. What’s the deal with you and Alex?’
Claire shook her head. The encounter had left her feeling rattled and she didn’t quite know why. ‘There is literally no deal,’ she said. ‘We were at high school together and he was one hundred per cent awful. Boorish, mean, thought he was king of the castle. Seems like he’s made quite the transformation.’
Nina looked sceptical. ‘So you two never . . .?’
Claire frowned. ‘Never what?’
‘I don’t know, dated? Made out? Secretly longed for each other?’
‘Ew, no way!’ She protested with all the vehemence of the dramatic teenager she had once been. ‘Alex Jessop was so not my type. That was probably the most words Alex has ever spoken to me. The only guy I ever dated in high school was . . . was . . .’
Claire faltered. Scotty. She wouldn’t really call those afternoons in the dunes and evenings on the stable roof at Cape Ashe Stud ‘dating’, but there was no doubt he had been the only member of the opposite sex on her radar back then – and for years afterwards.
‘Scotty?’ Nina supplied. ‘It’s okay, Claire. I know all about you and Scotty. You don’t have to pretend you don’t have a history.’
She wondered if Nina knew that Scotty had once wanted Claire to be his wife. He hadn’t actually answered her yesterday when she’d made her awkward joke about Nina being his second choice.
‘I just don’t want you to worry that whatever Scotty and I once had has anything to do with me being here,’ Claire said. ‘I came back to Bindallarah because we’re friends. Just friends. I only want what’s best for him.’
‘I’m not worried,’ Nina said. ‘I’m really glad you’re here. I only want what’s best for Scotty, too.’
She put her arm around Claire’s shoulders and squeezed. Claire felt herself tense, and not just because even as a student in California she’d never
managed to get used to that American touchy-feelyness. Her tension was guilt-induced. Nina thought they were on the same page, working towards a shared goal of helping Scotty plan an incredible wedding.
But somehow Claire doubted Nina would agree that what was best for Scotty was that they shouldn’t get married at all.
CHAPTER NINE
Claire stood on the footpath and looked up at the blue-and-white-striped shop awning. Unpretentious block lettering declared it to be the commercial home of Tobias Watts: Artisan Butcher. ‘Watt’s the best meat? Watts’s meat!’ read a wooden signboard hanging underneath.
Claire shook her head. The only artisans in Bindallarah when she was growing up were the Country Women’s Association quilters, who met in the community hall on the second Sunday of the month.
‘Wow, Scotty, you sure know how to show a girl a good time,’ Claire said with as much sarcasm as she could muster. ‘Is this how you won Nina’s heart? Taking her to all Bindallarah’s hot spots?’
Scotty laughed loudly, his deep voice conveying genuine mirth, and Claire felt her stomach flip. She had loved trying to make him laugh when they were together. She’d almost forgotten that.
‘It might not be glamorous, but it’s probably the most important part of the wedding,’ Scotty said, nudging her good-naturedly with his elbow. ‘And, besides, you offered.’
‘I think the part where you and Nina promise to love each other forever is slightly more important than a pig on a spit,’ Claire replied archly. From the corner of her eye, she studied Scotty for a reaction.
His gaze fell to his shoes. ‘Well, yeah. That goes without saying,’ he said softly, all traces of amusement gone.
Just say it.
Claire opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. What was the right way to say, ‘Look, I know Nina is gorgeous, but I don’t think her heart is truly in this and, besides, it’s all happening way too fast and you’re a fool if you marry her next week’?
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