At last, the solicitor made a throat-clearing sound to break the silence.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said quietly, ‘Thank you for coming here today.’ He placed his square hands on the folder in front of him. ‘I have in my possession two wills for Angus Harrington. One that was made many years ago, and another that was drawn up three months ago.’
He looked at them over the top of his glasses. No one spoke or moved, but Kate felt a new ripple of disquiet spread through the room, as if a stone had been dropped into a pond, disrupting its smooth surface.
‘I’ll cut to the chase and provide a summary.’ Alan Davidson lifted a sheet from the papers in front of him. ‘The property of Radnor, its buildings, stock, vehicles and equipment, were Angus Harrington’s only assets.’
As he spoke, the solicitor let his gaze shift from person to person in the room. ‘There were some cash reserves, but those funds have been depleted by the long drought. There won’t be much left in the bank by the time the final debts and mortgages are settled.’
He paused, looked down at the papers, then directed his attention to Noah. ‘Noah, Angus left you a half-share of Radnor, its assets and its debts.’
A half-share?
Kate saw the flare of shock in Noah’s eyes.
She was shocked too. And confused. What did this mean?
The solicitor turned quickly to Kate. ‘Ms Brodie.’
Her hand flew to her throat and her heart began to thump mercilessly.
‘It was your uncle’s wish that you should inherit the other half of his estate.’
‘No,’ she whispered.
Alan Davidson frowned.
‘No.’ Kate shook her head. ‘There must be a mistake.’
‘Of course it’s a mistake!’ cried Liane. ‘That can’t possibly be right.’
Grim faced, the solicitor held out the sheet of paper, pointing with his finger to the appropriate words, but they swam before Kate’s eyes. She felt vague and confused, as if this was happening to someone else.
‘Ms Brodie,’ Alan said. ‘In the revised will, your uncle’s intention was quite clear. In fact, his insistence that you be included as a beneficiary is the reason the will was changed.’
Stunned, Kate looked from the solicitor to Noah’s stony face. This didn’t make sense. She couldn’t possibly own half of an Australian cattle property. Why on earth would her uncle do that?
Why would he do it to Noah?
Before she could find the words to frame a question, Noah’s ex-wife leapt to her feet.
‘James, you told me you could get me half of everything Noah inherited. How can this little biddy from England sneak though the back door and take my share?’
Hands on hips, Liane darted fiery sneers at them all. ‘I’m entitled to a half-share of that property. I wasted the best years of my life in that ghastly place, living under the same roof as that awful old man.’
Calloway reached for her hand and tried to pull her back down into her chair, but she shook him away.
‘Noah owes me, and he knows it. They can’t do this to me. It’s ridiculous. I want my money.’
Noah, darkly furious, refused to respond.
Kate watched from her seat, mortified. She felt responsible for this fiasco. But utterly helpless. She hadn’t asked for an inheritance. What had Uncle Angus been thinking?
As she sat, wondering what on earth she should say or do, the door from the outer office began to open. Just a crack at first, and then wider, and one half of a small face appeared.
The door inched open wider and Kate saw a little girl aged about seven or eight. She was fair-skinned and petite, with freckles across her nose and wavy, light brown hair that almost reached her shoulders. Her eyes were the exact shade of grey as Noah’s eyes, but right now they were round with worry and fixed on Liane.
Kate wondered if she was Olivia, Noah and Liane’s daughter. Perhaps she’d been told to wait outside. Had she been upset by the high-pitched agitation in her mother’s voice?
Liane hadn’t noticed the child and she continued to rant. ‘On your feet, James! You’ll have to start calling your people in Sydney. I want this matter settled right now.’
With that, Calloway was hauled unceremoniously out of his chair.
Kate rose, too, but in a more dignified manner. She swallowed nervously. ‘I don’t understand my uncle’s decision. I’m as shocked as anyone else. But it might be easier for you to discuss this complication if I wait outside.’
Liane glared at her suspiciously.
Noah looked as if he might have spoken, but Kate gestured to the small figure in the doorway. ‘The little girl.’
Noah’s head whipped round and, when he saw her, his face morphed into a mix of delight and despair.
Liane snapped at the child. ‘I told you to wait outside!’
The girl’s eyes grew huge. Her mouth trembled, and she looked very much as if she was about to burst into tears.
‘I could wait with her,’ Kate volunteered.
Noah sent her a look of immense gratitude, while Liane gave a little annoyed huff and shrugged her shoulders impatiently. ‘Whatever.’
Relieved to escape, Kate shut the office door behind her and drew a deep breath. She wished, rather recklessly given the circumstances, that the ownership of Radnor could be settled by the time this door opened again.
She smiled at the little girl. ‘Hello,’ she said warmly as she held out her hand. ‘We haven’t met, but I’ve heard about you, Olivia. I’m Kate. I’m a friend of your—of your father’s.’
‘Hello.’ Olivia did not offer her hand and she didn’t return Kate’s smile. She looked again at the closed door separating her from her parents.
The voices on the other side were mostly muffled, except for Liane’s high-pitched, angry demands.
‘Why are they fighting?’ Olivia asked. ‘What’s happening in there?’
‘It’s a business discussion. And I’m afraid business can get rather complicated at times.’
Kate nodded towards a long, pew-like seat against the opposite wall. ‘Shall we wait there?’
Olivia shook her head. ‘I’m tired of sitting. I’ve been sitting for ages ’n’ ages.’
A quick flick through the reading material on the coffee table showed Kate that none of it was suitable for children. She wondered if she should try to tell the little girl a story, but story telling wasn’t really her forte.
Olivia pointed to the open door leading out to the sunlit street. ‘Can we go outside?’
‘Well…’ Aware of the heated discussion on the other side of the door, Kate made a snap decision. ‘Why not? I don’t suppose anyone will mind.’ After all, Jindabilla was a very tiny country town, hardly more than one wide, dusty main street. No chance of getting lost.
The little girl was already skipping towards the door. ‘There’s a beautiful pig out there.’ Her eyes were shining suddenly.
‘A pig?’ Good grief. What a quantum leap, to come from discussing wills and inheritances to pigs.
On the footpath, Kate shaded her gaze against the sun’s glare.