‘Yes, your father. Mr Bryce Campbell.’ A pause. ‘Again, I’m sorry for your loss.’
Losing all strength, Beth sank to the floor. To hear his name, her father’s name, spoken so freely after all this time. And yet …
‘His last name was Campbell? Are you sure?’
She barely remembered her father but knew she’d loved him desperately. And although she’d never forgotten his warm and comforting presence, that’s all she had of him. There were no photos or keepsakes or stories, because each time Beth had asked about him, Rosie had plunged into a bout of depression. And so, to keep her mum smiling, Beth had learned not to ask questions.
‘It was,’ Vince assured her. ‘Prudence Campbell was your father’s aunt, Ms Sullivan.’
She leaned her head on her knees, trying to process everything. Rosie had lied to her. She’d made Beth believe they had no other relatives.It’s just you and me against the world, kiddo.
But her last name had once been Campbell. And apparently she’d had an aunt.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘This … it’s a lot to take in.’
‘There’s no need to apologise, I assure you.’
She lifted her head, ready for the conversation to end, but Vince had more to say.
‘Ms Sullivan, you are Prudence Campbell’s last remaining blood relative, and as such, she named you as her sole beneficiary. You’re set to inherit her entire estate.’
Surely this was a cruel, sick joke? She’d only learned of her aunt’s existence a few minutes ago.
‘There are some conditions you’ll need to meet, which are all outlined in the letter I sent. I suggest you review its contents and get back to me when you’re ready.’
Vaguely, Beth registered that it was her turn to speak. ‘Uh, thank you.’
‘Take all the time you need, Ms Sullivan.’
Feeling more than a little light-headed, Beth disconnected the call, closed her eyes and breathed deeply. In through her nose, out through her mouth. This was too much. Too many lies to deal with. Or perhaps not. Maybe Rosie hadn’t known about Beth’s aunt. But then, how had Prudence Campbell known about Beth?
In through her nose. Out through her mouth.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, trying to keep her tears at bay. Asking questions about the one person who wasn’t here to answer them would do more harm than good. Rosie was all Beth had ever had; she refused to taint her memories of her mum.
After a few more minutes of deep breathing, her racing heart slowed and she was ready to tackle whatever was in Vince’s letter.
Rising from the floor, she went through the motions of preparing a glass of iced water with a splash of lemon, then retrieved the envelope from the kitchen counter. Taking the letter and her drink into the rear courtyard, she sat at her little bistro setting. She loved it out here, surrounded by tropical garden with not another person in sight. It was peaceful, the perfect spot to relax. And the only place she felt capable of carrying out this task.
She laid the envelope on the table in front of her. Such a monumental truth bomb packed into a teeny, tiny package. Would she be blindsided once again when she opened it? Was there anything Vince hadn’t told her? He’d seemed adamant that she’d need time to consider its contents.
Her hands shook as she reached for the letter. Opening it would be like ripping off a bandaid.
Refusing to let her emotions build into something uncontrollable, she wasted no more time in tearing open the envelope and extracting the papers it contained. On top was a letter from Barrington and O’Dwyer. Scanning the opening paragraphs, she found details corroborating Vince’s story. Prudence Campbell had passed away eight months ago in an aged-care home in Busselton, Western Australia.
Beth’s heart ached with the knowledge that she’d had family out there, someone besides Rosie. How many times over the years had she wished for a sibling? A cousin? A grandparent? If she’d known about Prudence Campbell, she could’ve—would’vemade an effort to get to know her. Her great aunt. A legitimate connection to the father she barely remembered. Prudence could’ve shared stories of Bryce, made him come alive for Beth in a way Rosie had never been willing, or able, to do. Beth could’ve been there for her aunt when she’d moved into care, held her hand when her health deteriorated.
Only now it was too late. Prudence was gone.
Swiping at the tear making its way down her cheek, Beth read on.
‘Oh my god!’ Her hand flew to her lips, her words warming her fingers.
The text on the page blurred and an age passed, the courtyard spinning slightly, before she formulated another coherent thought and read the sentence again, just to be sure.
Ms Campbell’s estate includes cash funds, as well as a house and property in Karlup, Western Australia.
A house? She’d just inherited ahouse? Andmoney?
