Page 96 of A Home Among the Snow Gums
‘The form has some options. You can do it at the University of New South Wales in thirty hours, mostly online, just one day has to be there in person.’
He’d had no idea. ‘Wait. Aren’tyouthe local solicitor? Why are you telling me this?’
‘I’m retiring. I should have retired when Joan took off, but I didn’t and I’ve been providing terrible service for every client since then. I can pass my clients over to one of the solicitors in Cooma or I could pass them to you. Of course, if you wanted to take over my lease, I’d be thrilled. It has another six months to run, but since you know the owner of the building, you could probably get it extended.’
‘Krauss Holdings, huh?’
‘Yep.’
It was a lot to think about. Was now the right time? What if his surgery, whenever it happened, was a disaster?
‘There’s no lift in your building, is there?’
‘No. It’s on the heritage register, too, so retrofitting one would be troublesome. Why? Is that a problem?’
Quite possibly, yes, but he wasn’t admitting that to anyone. ‘When do you need an answer?’
‘I’m going to spend a few hours in at the office tidying stuff up, calling clients, shutting down accounts, that sort of thing. Shall we say a week?’
He held out his hand and shook Benjamin’s. ‘A week it is.’
‘And if you do decide to take over, I’d like to be your first client. Turns out I have a property settlement to attend to now that my wife has left me; ignoring it has just pissed her off and I have a hall table covered in vicious letters from some legal turkey in Brisbane.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Yeah.’
He walked Benjamin to the front of the building and then went and sat in the office chair again, swinging it from side to side while he inspected the weeds in the planter box. One of them had a little yellow flower on it, a bright speck in the otherwise drab box.
Tom Krauss, Publican and Lawyer.
Huh. Maybe that wouldn’t look totally awful engraved on a brass plaque by the front door of the pub.
CHAPTER
36
May began with storms that growled through the Snowies in the dark of night, leaving snowfall in their wake. Tonight’s storm felt like it had begun in the Old Testament. Thunder drummed through the valleys like an avenging army on the march and forks of lightning speared the mountain peaks.
It matched Tom’s mood. So did the rain, which had brought a false dusk with it. He was supposed to be down in town, holding the postponed meeting for the Ironbark Campdraft volunteers, but Bruno had told him to cancel it.
‘That sky’s turned ugly, son. It’s not a night to be on the road.’
No matter. He could email the volunteers just as easily, and it saved him the regret of staring at Hannah’s empty chair for the duration of the meeting. Two weeks had passed since he’d listened to her hurt intake of breath and they were back to being strangers who gave one another remote nods as they passed.
Tom flicked the heater switch on in the main stables, then made his way through the rain to Buttercup. Lynette’s second-in-command stood by the mare, running a brush over her broad sides so she gleamed in the low light.
‘Bill. You get along home before this storm gets any worse. Anything else needs doing, I can manage.’
‘Don’t mind if I do, Tom. Lynette’s sent the others home and she’s off mountain tonight. Some graduation thing for her kid down in Melbourne, so I’m the last one. Those clouds have been building up something fierce. Hope it rolls around us and not through.’
‘Weather bureau wasn’t too bad, but Bruno’s forecasting a doozy.’
Bill nodded. ‘My money’s on your old man. He knows these mountains better than anyone.’
‘True enough.’
‘Mate, the heating will need to go on in the stables tonight, I’m thinking. Temperature’s dropped about ten degrees the last hour.’
