Chapter 6

CHAPTER

6

‘Brianna, you are going to regret this. It’s not too late. I can cancel tonight’s event. It won’t look good, but—’

Bree looked up from the box sitting on her desk. This was her last afternoon as a member of her parents’ firm. ‘Mother, how many times have we had this conversation? I am leaving. I’ve sold my flat and bought the property at Wagtail Ridge. The sale will close next week. It’s done.’

‘I’m very disappointed in you.’

‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?’

A shocked silence filled the room. Bree realised she had gone too far, but it was too late to change that.

‘I see. Well …’ Margaret turned on her heel and left the office. Bree thought she caught a glimpse of regret—or some other emotion—on her mother’s face. But she couldn’t have. Margaret seldom showed her emotions, and never in the office.

Bree wanted her departure to be amicable. She loved her parents and hoped they’d support her in this new venture, maybe even leave the city, something they seldom did, to visit her in her new home. She tried to imagine Margaret wearing jeans and gum boots, walking through a paddock where grazing animals had left their mark. No. That wasn’t going to happen. She had to accept that her relationship with her parents was going to drift even further apart and there was nothing she could do about it.

As she continued packing, Bree began to realise that avoiding her mother’s judgemental looks and constant pressure was one of the best things about this change in her life. She should have done it years ago.

‘Ms Johnston. It’s time.’

Bree shut the company laptop she was leaving behind. The box held all the personal possessions she’d had in her office. A couple of books and photos. A small fluffy alpaca given to her as a joke by a friend who had long since left the firm. The toy was a reminder of how long she’d held the dream that was about to become a reality. Apart from that, there wasn’t much to show for a career that was about to end before it had really started. Five years was no time at all in the legal world. There was, however, one thing she was not going to leave behind with her case files and her official documents. She opened the top drawer of her polished wooden desk and picked up a folder. Inside were letters from clients. Not the big corporate clients who had financed her flat, but the ones she’d taken on for free. People she’d helped despite the fact they couldn’t pay. Or maybe because of it. The letters were not company documents and they all said the same thing. Thank you. From a mother who kept custody of a child. From a battered woman who escaped an abusive husband. From a family who got compensation for damage to their home. This was the only part of her legal career Bree was going to miss.

She put the folder in the box along with her other possessions.

‘I’m coming,’ she said to the assistant waiting anxiously by the door. ‘Can you get this delivered to my home tomorrow, please.’

‘Yes, Ms Johnston.’

‘You know, I don’t work here any more. You could call me Bree.’

‘Yes, thank you, Ms Johnston.’ The woman was her mother’s assistant and being on first-name terms with her boss’s daughter was a step too far.

Bree reached for the jacket hanging on the back of her chair, then stopped. There was no reason to wear that. She wasn’t going into a courtroom or a deposition. She was going to a farewell party. Her own farewell party.

The entire staff of Fuller and Johnston had gathered in the big board room. Bree grimaced. A memo had probably been sent from her mother’s office, requiring everyone’s presence. She barely knew some of the people there and she liked very few of those she did know. Ken, her assistant, grinned at her from a corner and she wished that this could have simply been a night out with her few friends in the firm, rather than a formal occasion. But, if she was effectively deserting her parents—her mother’s words—the least she could do was show up for this party she didn’t want.

Fixing a smile on her face, she walked into the room to a polite round of applause. She accepted a glass of champagne that was thrust at her and crossed to where her parents stood. ‘You know I didn’t want to make a fuss,’ she whispered.

‘Nonsense,’ said her mother. ‘We couldn’t let this go unmarked. What would that have said about us and the firm?’ She stepped forward and the room fell silent.

‘Thank you for being here, everyone.’

The speech that followed highlighted the ‘excellent solicitor’ that Bree had become and the ‘considerable skills’ she had brought to a number of high-profile cases, enhancing ‘both her own reputation and that of the firm’.

Bree was starting to squirm with embarrassment when Gary joined his wife.

‘As the name partners of this firm, Margaret and I are very proud of Brianna,’ he said. ‘As her parents, it was always our desire she join us in the firm and we are sad to lose her.’ He smiled at Bree. ‘As her father, I am also very proud that she has decided to step out on her own in a totally different field. That takes courage, and I am sure she will be just as successful there as she has been here. To Bree.’ He raised his glass and the whole room followed suit.

Had Bree heard a slight catch in his voice? Before she put the glass to her lips, she studied her father’s face. Their eyes met and he smiled at her again. For a moment, Bree saw the father she remembered, the man she had hero-worshipped from the moment she was old enough to speak. Maybe even before. For the first time, she felt tears prick her eyes. She hadn’t let him down—he really was proud of her. He didn’t show it often, but she would never forget it again.

She nodded, stumbled over a few words and accepted the mandatory gold watch as a farewell gift from her colleagues. Then she went in search of another drink and a place to get a minute of calm before she walked out the glass doors for the final time.

She was standing, half-hidden behind a giant potted palm, when a voice disturbed her.

‘Brianna. Bree. Your mother’s speech was very moving.’

The man in front of her was one of the partners. A few years senior to her in the firm, he was bright, good at his job and ambitious. He was handsome, wore a tailor-made suit and exuded the sort of confidence she had never felt.

‘Thanks, Bradley.’ She wasn’t going to tell him her father’s words had meant so much more to her.

‘I know you are doing this farm thing,’ he said, dismissing her plan with a shrug, ‘but you’re not moving out of the city, are you? I thought we should have dinner. Soon.’ He ran a hand down the bare skin of her arm.

‘Well, actually …’ She took a step backwards.

‘I couldn’t ask you out before. You know, the bosses’ daughter and all that. But now, well, I’ve always admired you, Brianna.’ He took half a step forwards, almost trapping her against the wall.

‘Um. Thank you, but—’

‘We have so much in common, you and I. We could be good together. I mean, together .’ The emphasis on the last word left nothing to her imagination as he leaned closer. ‘And you never know, maybe one day …’ He inclined his head in the direction of her parents.

For a second, Bree saw the future Bradley had in mind, the same life her parents had. Linking himself to her family would boost his standing in the legal community. His wealth too. She imagined herself and Bradley standing where her parents were now—and she nearly shuddered.

‘Well, Bradley, you know I am looking to breed alpacas.’

‘Yes. And that sounds like an interesting diversion. Quite a lot of money to be made, I hear.’

‘I’ll be living in the Hunter Valley.’

‘In the wine country? That’s great. There are some excellent restaurants up there … and all that wine.’

‘Not the wine country. The horse country. And mostly there’ll be fences to mend and stables to be mucked out.’

Bradley actually took a step away.

‘You’re welcome to come and swing a shovel with me whenever you like.’ Bree smiled sweetly and put her glass down. She paused long enough to say goodbye to Ken and then left the meeting room without a backwards glance.

***

Her flat was no longer the pristine living space it had been. Several large boxes, firmly taped shut, sat in the corner of her lounge room. Others, still flat, leaned against the wall, waiting to be filled. Tomorrow the removalists would come. They’d deal with the bulk of her belongings. She wasn’t sure how this city-chic furniture would look in a weatherboard country house, but that really didn’t matter. She’d have something to sit on, a bed and a desk. That was the main thing.

She took her shoes off and looked down at them. Would she ever wear them again? She hoped not. And certainly not in a courtroom. There was half a bottle of wine in the fridge. She poured herself a glass and took up her favourite position, sitting in the woven cane chair on her balcony. She looked out at the city lights as she sipped the wine. Would she miss this? The answer came quickly. Yes. There was much about living in the city she would miss. This view, for one. And her regular visits to Nan’s place, with its even more spectacular view. She didn’t frequent nightclubs and bars, but she would miss the city’s choice of wonderful restaurants. She certainly wouldn’t miss the dating scene. Not that she dated much. She was far too busy, and far too many of the men she met were lawyers and just like that creep Bradley. She wouldn’t miss that part of it at all.

Still, moving to The Gums was going to be a huge change to her lifestyle. To her entire life.

Feeling suddenly restless, she carried her wine to her bedroom. A couple of open suitcases sat on the bed. She slid open the doors of her built-in wardrobes and looked at the contents. It was as if two very different people lived here. One wore dark business suits and high heels, and argued in court and on paper for large corporate clients. The other was a creative soul, who knitted her own jumpers, loved the fresh air, the feel of grass between her toes and a herd of large, hairy, slightly aloof creatures that occasionally spat at her.

Who did she really want to be?

There could only be one answer and she didn’t hesitate. She reached into the wardrobe and began placing jeans and overalls in her suitcases. The tie-dyed T-shirts and the colourful hand-knitted jumpers followed. There was plenty of space left for the long, gathered skirts and the flat, comfortable shoes. The person she really was went into the suitcase. The owner of the classic suits and the high-heeled shoes could be packed into boxes along with her clothes.

But at the back of Bree’s mind was the thought that if this new life didn’t pan out, she could unpack her old self as easily as she could unpack her old clothes.