Most of what was left held only sentimental value, which in Elle’s eyes was more important than any of the assets that had already been distributed among the family. It was hard to look at pretty much anything in the house and not feel an overwhelming urge to put a ‘Keep’ sticker on it.

‘Elle, you can’t keep it all,’ her mother said wearily, as they started a second day of clearing.

‘We can’t just toss everything either,’ Elle said, clutching the green glass vase to her chest.

Darling, your mother’s right. It’s just clutter, Gran said gently.

‘It’s not clutter,’ Elle snapped defensively, causing her mother to raise an eyebrow. Maybe it was just an ugly green glass vase, but it was part of Elle’s childhood memories and so it had meaning.

Pauline gave me that vase for Christmas one year, Gran told her dryly. Pauline, Gran’s sister-in-law, had the uncanny knack of rubbing everyone she came into contact with—especially Gran—the wrong way. Toss it, dear, Gran said firmly.

Reluctantly, Elle placed it into the box marked ‘Donations’ and gave a small sigh.

‘No, not that!’ Elle called in alarm as her father lifted the square yellow footrest to carry it out to the trailer for the tip. ‘Drop the pouffe, Dad,’ she said, blocking his path to the front door.

‘You cannot possibly want to keep that,’ her mother said with barely disguised disgust.

‘I do.’

The heavy, old-fashioned footrest had been part of her grandparents’ lounge-room decor forever. The faded baby-poo-yellow vinyl was not an especially attractive piece of furniture, but Elle had used it as a table for her snacks as a child and even now, just the sight of it gave her warm fuzzy feelings.

I remember buying that, Gran said with a sigh. Horace Lambert sold that to your grandfather and me when we were first married. We bought all new furniture. That was when they made things to last. You don’t get that kind of quality now, she added with a note of disapproval.

The Lamberts had once owned a furniture store in the main street, but it had been closed since well before Elle had even been born. It was still referred to by locals as Lamberts’, though, despite the fact it had become various different businesses over the years and was currently a newsagent.

‘I’ll keep the lounge suite and dining table too.’

‘We don’t have enough room to keep all the furniture, love,’ her father said, shaking his head.

‘Why would you need it, anyway?’ her mother asked.

‘For my own place.’

‘And when will this be happening?’ Caroline asked, a marked change in her tone.

‘When I get back from Scotland, I suppose.’

‘Have you given any thought to what you’ll be doing?’