Page 30 of Snow Going Back

There was a short pause. ‘Actually, it was Sauvignon Blanc. And a pretty decent one, too.’

Kate’s jaw dropped, and she just stared at him, for once too angry even for words.

‘From what little experience I have of you,lawyer girl, I’ve learned you’re very unpredictable.’ His words were calm now and devoid of the quick-witted arrogance Kate had begun to expect. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard and placed it on the side. ‘Anddestructive, too. You’re like a little hurricane that’s rolled in here upturning everything you touch.’ He poured the juice into the glass. ‘Truth is, I didn’t want to risk you coming here this afternoon and ruining things. Making it all about you, acting like you own the place and destroying the peace. I didn’t need today torn up by another storm.’ He put the carton back in the fridge and then turned to look at her again, taking a long sip of his juice. ‘So yeah.’ He wiped his top lip. ‘I told them to keep you locked up until my company had gone home.’

Kate bit her lip and took a second to contain her raging fury before she spoke.

‘You know nothing about me. You’veexperiencednothing of me. If you had, a hurricane is thelastword you’d have just used. My whole life orbits around order and logic and reason. But right now, after hearing that…’

She felt all the anger and disbelief and hatred she felt towards the man swell up inside and break through her last thread of sanity. Sam had gone too far now.Waytoo far. The devil on her shoulder booted the sleeping angel off the edge of the other, and then both she and Kate pulled themselves up to full height.

‘I’m done playing nice. You’re going to regret today. Because karma’s a bitch, Sam,’ Kate said determinedly. ‘And she’s coming for you.That’sa promise.’ Turning away from him, she walked determinedly out of the room.

‘Game on,lawyer girl,’ he called after her. ‘Game on.’

SEVENTEEN

Kate threw herself into her work the next day, sorting the house into categories and delving deeper into Cora’s and William’s lives. There was so much more to sort out than she’d initially anticipated. The attic ran the length of the house and was full of boxes and furniture and old filing cabinets. The basement, which she’d only glanced at briefly when she’d first arrived, turned out to be almost as big and almost as full. She wandered through and looked around bleakly, wondering how she was supposed to get through all of it in just a few weeks.

Reaching one end, she stopped and read the labels on some of the boxes. The top box on one stack read:Photo Albums ’90s–’00s. The lid was half open, and she peeped inside before reaching for one. She flipped through a few of the cardboard pages with photos stuck under the film and smiled, the sight bringing back memories of putting together albums like this with her nanna. The same swirly writing from Cora’s diary noted dates and places, and she scanned a few of them.

William, Cora, Grant and Alma, Rocky Peak Café, Aug ’96

William and Matthew Opening the Coreaux Roots Workers Café, Oct ’96

First Christmas with Sam, Dec ’96

Kate paused, a small crease forming between her brows. The Sam in this picture was around ten or eleven she guessed from his size. He’d been particularly skinny back then, and there was a deep vulnerability in his expression and in the way he stood between William and Cora, who had her arm wrapped comfortingly around his shoulders.

Kate read the notation again.First Christmas with Sam. She flicked onto the next page, and then the next. There were severalfirstswith Sam. First day of school, first baseball match, first birthday party. Kate put the album down and glanced across to the stairs that led up to the house. Sam didn’t just live herenow; he’d beenraisedby them. She had no idea how or why that had come about, but his connection with Cora clearly went far deeper than she’d thought.

Kate walked upstairs and made a beeline for the garage, where she’d last seen Sam headed. He stood at a tool bench fiddling with something, small screws littered all around him. He glanced over as she entered, then ignored her.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were raised here by your aunt and uncle?’ she asked bluntly.

‘Because it ain’t your business,’ he replied. ‘Doyougo round telling strangers your life story?’

Kate rolled her eyes. ‘It literallyismy business right now. Myentire purposehere is to work out who meant what to them, so I can make sure everything is left to the right people. And you didn’t think to tell me that you’re basically theirson?’

Sam began picking up the screws and dropped them in a small box. ‘I’m theirnephew,’ he stated firmly. ‘I lived here,yeah. But that doesn’t change facts.’ He dropped in the last screw and picked up the box, sliding it into a gap on the shelf above. Turning around, he dusted off his hands. ‘I’m not staking any claim to my aunt and uncle’s business. So it really doesn’t matter either way. Just make sure you give it to someone who’ll look after it the way they did,’ he told her, the words sounding like a subtle warning.

He walked past her and paused by the doorway into the house. ‘Who’s in the running, anyway?’ he asked.

Kate studied him thoughtfully. Nothing about Sam made sense. He’d shown himself to be self-serving and thoughtless for the most part. Yet he wasn’t interested in being handed a thriving business and the keys to the home he grew up in, which was worth around a million dollars in today’s market. That didn’t add up at all.

‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘Who’s laid a claim?’

‘I can’t legally share that information with you,’ Kate replied.

One corner of his mouth hitched up wryly. ‘You should go down to the offices,’ he suggested, turning into the house. ‘See what it’s all about.’

‘I plan to,’ she replied.

‘Good. Try not to wreck anything big while you’re there,’ he added. ‘And maybe thaw out that personality of yours a bit before you go. The whole cold, mean British thing won’t get you very far with the nice folk over there.’

‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. I bring out the ice just for you,’ Kate responded smoothly, deciding to meet his sarcasm with a dose of her own. ‘Andyoutry not to crash into any more trees while I’m gone. Maybe book some driving lessons.’ She put on a wide fake smile. ‘I found a great book for you, actually. It’s calledBasic Road Rules for Idiots.’ He let out a small laugh and her eyes twinkled back with sarcastic sweetness.‘It’s a picture book, so it’s one evenyoushould be able to get on with. I got you one for Christmas.’

‘I’m touched,’ Sam said, placing his hand on his heart. ‘I haven’t got you anything.’

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