An unknown number, from Western Australia of all places, flashed across the screen.
She rejected the call, reasoning the person had the wrong number, and went to the fridge to see what she could scrounge up for dinner. Not that she had much of an appetite.
Her phone started blaring again and the same number appeared. Realising she’d have to answer the call and assure the person they had the wrong number, Beth swiped the screen.
‘Hello?’
‘Yes, hello. Am I speaking with Ms Bethany Sullivan?’
Not a misdial then. ‘You are. Who’s this?’
‘Ms Sullivan, my name is Vince O’Dwyer and I’m a solicitor at Barrington and O’Dwyer Solicitors in Busselton, Western Australia. I’m calling to follow up about the contents of the letter you received late last week.’
‘Letter? What letter?’ Her gaze tracked to the stack of catalogues she’d dumped on the kitchen countertop days ago. The white envelope she’d had to sign for peeked out from underneath them.
‘I sent a letter by registered mail,’ the man explained, ‘and received notification that it had been delivered several days ago.’
Pushing the catalogues aside, she picked up the envelope and took in the sender’s details in the top corner. Barrington and O’Dwyer Solicitors. ‘I have it,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I … I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. What’s this about?’
He hesitated. ‘It’s probably best if you read through it and get in touch when you’re ready.’
‘No, please,’ she said, panicking. ‘Just tell me.’ As far as Beth knew, she’d never even set foot in Western Australia, so did this have something to do with Rosie?
The memory of a conversation she’d once tried to have with her mother came unbidden. She must’ve been about fourteen and unsurprisingly antagonistic for someone her age, but on this particular day, she’d been justifiably peeved that they were packing up and moving once again.
‘Why don’t we ever head west?’ she’d grumbled as Rosie thumbed through her well-worn travel guide.
When Rosie didn’t respond, Beth goaded her. ‘Surely it isn’t as boring in Perth as it is here in Adelaide.’
Rosie had pursed her lips but offered no explanation.
With a huff, Beth had stomped off to her room, where she’d sulked for the rest of the day, leaving Rosie to once again make the decision about where they moved next. Beth had gotten used to her wishes being ignored, but now, she wondered why her mother had harboured such an aversion to crossing the Nullarbor.
Every worst-case scenario ran through her head. Had her mother committed a crime of some sort? Is that why a lawyer had tracked Beth down? Was he trying to locate Rosie?
Just as she was on the verge of blurting out that her mother had passed away four years ago, Vince cleared his throat.
‘Are you sitting down, Ms Sullivan?’
Incapable of taking a single step let alone moving across the room to the nearest chair, Beth stood rooted firmly to the spot. ‘Yes, I am,’ she lied.
‘Right.’ Vince heaved a sigh. ‘Ms Sullivan, I regret to inform you of the death of your great aunt, Prudence Campbell.’
Once his words registered, Beth sagged against the counter, her relief instant. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong Bethany Sullivan. I never had an aunt, least of all one by that name.’
‘Hmm. Your mother’s name is Rosalyn Sullivan, correct?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ She steeled herself. ‘She died four years ago.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ Vince allowed her a moment before continuing. ‘But I’m afraid that means I’ve made no mistake, though it did take me some time to track you down. It wasn’t until I considered that your mother may have reverted to her birth name and changed yours to match that I managed to find you.’
His words hung heavy in the air. Surely, she hadn’t heard him correctly?
‘I’m sorry, w-what did you say?’
‘Uh … according to the information I have, your mother took your father’s last name when they married and you were given his surname at birth.’
‘M-my father?’ The room swayed dangerously.
