something like that,’ says Thomas. ‘She left you this letter.’
From his jacket pocket he pulls out a plain white envelope with the word ‘Sophie’ written on the front in firm black letters. ‘Just read it first before you decide anything. If you decide you want the house then I won’t let Veronika contest the will.’
Sophie says, ‘That’s very kind of you.’ Thomas shrugs and gives a small grimace. She opens the letter, reads it slowly, carefully refolds it, puts it back in the envelope and smiles, a touch flirtatiously, certainly fondly, at Thomas.
‘I guess I’d like to keep the house.’
He grins back at her. ‘Knew you would.’
Then he opens his briefcase and pulls out a Tupperware container with a piece of marzipan tart. ‘Here. Your favourite.’
It seems that Thomas stills love her, just a little, too.
9
‘ D o you feel you’ve been hard done by in a will? ’
Veronika’s hands freeze in the middle of vigorously kneading ‘extra volume for fine or flat hair’ shampoo into her scalp.
‘ The good news is you could be entitled to contest it .’
Veronika throws back the shower curtain so hard that plastic rings go pinging across the room. The radio is sitting on the bathroom cabinet. With the shower still running she skids wild and naked across wet tiles to turn the dial up to shouting volume.
‘ AT O’SHEA SOLICITORS WE SPECIALISE IN WILLS AND PROBATE. WE CAN LET YOU KNOW YOUR LEGAL ENTITLEMENTS. CALL US NOW ON …’
Pen! she thinks frantically.
In desperation she writes the number with the tip of her finger on the steamed-up bathroom mirror, opens the bathroom door, dripping copiously, and sticks her still foamy head out in search of a passing flatmate. Rivulets of shampoo run into her eyes. ‘Is anyone awake? It’s an emergency! I need a pen!’
There is an anguished cry from down the hallway. ‘Veronika! Do you realise what time it is?’
‘Good morning! It’s six a.m., it’s a beautiful day and I need a pen!’
Veronika pulls open the bathroom cabinet’s drawer, grabs a lipstick and traces the fading numbers in bright fuchsia. She stands there, feeling resourceful and determined.
How could Aunt Connie have been so cruel? Sophie! Of all people!
10
‘T homas’s Aunt Connie died. It looks like she’s left me something in her will.’
‘Well, how thoughtful of her! Is it something nice?’
‘Yes. Her house.’
‘Oh no . Sophie, darling, I’m afraid you’ll have to give it straight back.’
‘Mum, I think she really wanted me to have it.’
‘You mean her house on Scribbly Gum Island? Her actual house?’
‘Yes, her actual house.’
‘Really? It’s extraordinary. It’s exciting! But oh dear. Oh goodness. It doesn’t seem appropriate after Thomas, does it? Look, I’ll call you straight back. Survivor is about to start. Did you forget? Do you need me to tape it for you?’
‘No, no. I’m watching it. Call me in the first ad.’
11
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About the Island
Scribbly Gum Island is one of Australia’s most fascinating, favourite tourist attractions. Located north of Sydney on the stunning Hawkesbury River, near Glass Bay, the island gets its name from the beautiful Scribbly Gum trees that can be found there. (The Scribbly Gum is a eucalyptus tree with a creamy pale trunk covered in dark brown lines–as if somebody has taken a pen and scribbled all over it! These scribbles are actually made by the larvae of the tiny scribbly moth.)
Scribbly Gum Island’s two most famous residents were Alice and Jack Munro, who mysteriously vanished from their home during the height of the Great Depression in the 1930s, leaving behind a two-week-old baby. Visitors can take a tour of Alice and Jack’s