‘This feels like an ambush, Addy. Did you even need those extra presents, or were they a ruse to corner me on the drive over?’
‘A bit of both.’ She smiled sweetly, glancing at the colourfully wrapped gifts on the back seat. ‘I didn’t marry Bryce for his shopping prowess. It’s easier when I do it, and Louisa knows the best gift shops in Penwarra. And we beat the Christmas Eve rush by getting in early with the groceries, didn’t we?’
‘Hmph,’ he said, returning his attention to the road, scanning diligently for kangaroos and wallabies. ‘You saw the fuss in the supermarket, people think they know me now. People I’ve never met are happy to tell me which contestant they liked best, and ask how my love life’s going. I’d hoped it would have died down now the show’s finished airing.’
‘I’ll admit,’ Addison said, ‘I wanted to see it with my own eyes, and the people of the Limestone Coast did not disappoint. I’d forgotten how different it is in the country. You know, I still haven’t met my new neighbour in the far townhouse, and he’s been there three years.’
Spencer covered his mouth as another yawn crept up on him.
‘And I’m glad we came early,’ she said. ‘I heard you rattling around the house in the middle of the night, and those bagsunder your eyes have an interstate postcode. Even if you won’t admit it to Ian and Louisa, or Mum and Dad, or yourself, I’m not afraid to tell you you’re looking like shit. You know I’ll keep digging until I find out why.’
He kept his gaze fixed ahead. Addison might be bossy, but her heart was usually in the right place. She knew things with Emily hadn’t worked out, but she knew nothing about Clem.
Not that there was much to tell, as it turned out. Thinking of the beautiful, sunflower-loving cafe owner made his chest ache.
‘When were you going to tell me about your jailbird penpal? Did the TV producers brief you on the protocol for love letters from prisoners?’
The change of topic caught him by surprise. ‘Is nothing private?’
Addison had the grace to look sheepish. ‘I may have shuffled through your mail last night. I thought you’d been joking about the fan mail, but the envelopes were just sitting under the fruit bowl, begging to be discovered. I’m surprised the prison staff don’t censor them, she wasn’t exactly a wallflower.’
‘I forgot to throw them out, but they’ll go in the bin the moment we get back. How’s work been? Are you deep in graduate head-hunting again, or is that done for the year?’ He pressed the accelerator, keen to end the inquisition.
‘I know what you’re doing, and if you keep fobbing me off, I’ll raise the topic over the roast turkey or while we’re singing Chrissy carols, Spence. Plus, I want to arrive home alive. I’ve seen how many roos are on the roads here, and you could lose a tyre in those potholes.’
Her comment reminded him of Clem’s recurring flat tyres, and then her horrific reaction about Belle’s death. Who was he to judge? A sense of moral superiority was as foolish as a secret relationship. He slowed, pulling off the road, and turned to his sister.
‘Even if I was interested, there’s no way I’d date an inmate. I’m done with this topic, Addy.’
Checking the road, he indicated to pull over, mumbling under his breath. ‘One murderer’s enough in any relationship.’
‘What did you say?’ Addison’s gasp was sharp. ‘Spence, you’re not a murderer. Did one of those fangirl floozies say that? Or was it Emily? I knew there was a reason I didn’t trust her. Give me her address, I’ll add her name to an underground doxxing list. Or troll her. Or something. How dare she?’
Addison’s immediate reaction was reassuring, but she was his big sister. Of course she’d say that.
Addison took his hand, tears brimming.
‘You did something really hard, out of love, not hate. Belle was going to die anyway, that was clear, and you saw her deteriorate. All you did was respect her wishes and follow her orders, under medical supervision, to help her pass with dignity, instead of spending weeks, or months, in agonising pain, unable to control any of her bodily functions, relying on medicine to keep her breathing—and for what? It’s not really bonus time when there’s zero quality of life.’
Sighing, he told Addison about Clem, giving her an abridged version of their short relationship, ending with the argument that had run on a loop in his head ever since.
‘Oh, I liked Clem.’ Addison frowned. ‘She would have been a better fit for you, after such a crappy outcome with the TV show. But making you feel like a murderer is not cool … I’m not excusing her, not by a long shot, but maybe there’s more to it, something that made her react like that?’
Spencer shook his head and Addison reached across the car to give him a sideways hug. ‘I don’t know.’
With a sigh, she leaned against the car door. ‘Well, that’s it. Now I have to hate her, and say farewell to the baklava donuts I’ve been dreaming about since winter.’
‘You don’t have to hate her,’ Spencer said. And as he said it, he realised he didn’t hate Clem either, despite how angry and guilty and hurt he’d felt after their last conversation.
He’d shared the hardest moment of his whole life with her and in response, she’d fled in horror, but she’d been vulnerable with him too. ‘She was also upset about the final episodes, you know the scene where I banged on about wanting children of my own?’
‘You were being honest.’ Addison winced. ‘It was never going to be smooth sailing, watching you whispering sweet nothings and planning a future with someone else. Clem doesn’t want more kids?’
He shook his head. ‘She was really sick with a post-natal illness I’d never even heard of. It sounded awful.’
‘So is it a deal-breaker for you?’ Addison asked gently. ‘Not having babies?’
Spencer shrugged. ‘I’m still processing, but it’s a non-issue anyway. I can’t change my role in Belle’s death and there’s nowhere to go if Clem’s morally opposed to VAD.’
