The Ripple Effect (13 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth Rose

BOOK: The Ripple Effect
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Joelle paused before inserting the key in the door. “Shay, after we do this would you like to have dinner with me tonight? At my place? I’m a pretty good cook.”

She moved a tad closer gazing up into his eyes and gently pouting her lips. She saw a flash of desire almost immediately extinguished. Shay looked down at her, his lips very close and very inviting.

“Maybe,” he murmured. “We’ll see what happens here first.”

He couldn’t back away because of a potted cumquat by the door. He glanced over her shoulder and then down into her eyes again. He licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“They won’t eat you,” she said, joking. She studied his face, puzzled now. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened on his brow. He was nervous, naturally so, she supposed. But more than that he seemed tense almost to the point of fear. Why on earth would an intelligent, handsome, self assured man like Shay be frightened of speaking to her parents again?

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” She placed her palm gently against his cheek and raised herself on her toes to brush her mouth lightly across his.

Chapter 6

His reaction was startling, shocking and humiliating in the extreme.

“No,” he cried and thrust her away so hard she almost fell.

“Whaaat?” Joelle crashed into the matching cumquat with tears of shame and hurt flooding her eyes. She struggled to her feet, staring at Shay, who was staring back at her with an expression of profound shock.

The door opened.

“Hello J…” Her father stopped mid word, his surprised face taking stock of her hot face, watery eyes and floundering stance. His gaze swung to Shay and despite her totally bewildered state it was obvious to her that her father wasn’t at all surprised to see him. In fact, it seemed he wasn’t surprised to see either of them, almost as if he expected this visit.

“Hello Dad,” she said. “You know Shay already, don’t you?”

The two men eyed each other briefly before Shay extended his hand.

“Hello, Mr Paice.”

“Hello.” Her father gave Shay’s hand a brief, perfunctory shake. “Come in,” he said. “It’s hot out here.”

He led them into the living room where her mother sat stiffly on the couch. Her eyes would have been on them as they arrived. She would have seen them park and get out of the car. Had she seen her daughter make a complete fool of herself? Joelle threw a quick glance towards the window. From her mother’s angle, doubtful.

“Hi Mum,” she said. “You know Shay already.”

Her mother nodded towards Shay but didn’t offer her hand and neither did Shay move towards her. He murmured a greeting and stood with his hands hanging by his sides. No-one appeared to notice her hot cheeks.

Her father said, “Please sit down, Doctor Brookes. Can we offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you.” Shay sat opposite her mother, forward on the seat with his back straight.

It was all extraordinarily formal but then, Joelle supposed, this was a formal sort of occasion. The other three were tense to the point of rigor mortis and Shay appeared to be still in shock from her kiss. She’d never had that effect on a man before. No way was she doing unsolicited kissing again, not even of the comforting variety the way she’d intended that to be. He hadn’t even glanced her way since. His attention was focussed on her parents. Something else was happening here. Something she knew nothing about.

No-one said a word.

“What’s going on?” she blurted.

Shay and her mother looked at William. Joelle’s stomach dropped. “You’re frightening me,” she said. “Dad, Mum. Say something. You know about Shay’s missing sister, don’t you?”

Her father cleared his throat. Her mother clutched his hand tightly.

Joelle stared from one to the other. “You have to tell him.” Her voice quivered slightly. She swallowed.

Shay spoke first. “Joelle,” he said. “Let me tell you about myself and the day my sister was born.”

“You told me,” she said. “Your poor mother died giving birth.”

“Yes, she did. I was about fifteen months old. No-one knows my birthday exactly because my mother died without telling anyone anything about herself or me. I don’t know who my father is. Stan Brookes, my adoptive father, picked us up on the roadside. He said my mother was already in labour. The town was in the middle of a bushfire crisis, smoke everywhere, cinders flying about and the Medical Centre was packed with people. Doctor Jenny did the best she could but my mother was only seventeen and the birth was a difficult one. She died of a massive haemorrhage. I know now there was nothing Jenny could have done with the facilities they had back then.”

A muffled sob interrupted his quiet voice. Tears were streaming down her mother’s face. Joelle bit her lip gently, returned her gaze to Shay.

“Stan took me home and his wife Amy took care of me. I was lucky.” He smiled faintly. “They liked me and decided to adopt me. They already had three kids so Amy said another little tyke wouldn’t make any difference. I asked her once why they didn’t take both of us but she said she couldn’t cope with a newborn baby as well, plus the house wasn’t really big enough.”

“And your baby sister?” Joelle asked.

“She was cared for by Doctor Jenny and Olive, she’s the nurse—she’s still there, by the way. Olive took her to Sydney to a special hospital for children.”

“The Madeleine Wright Children’s Hospital in Chatswood,” whispered her mother.

“How do you know that?” Joelle whipped her head around. Both parents were gazing at her with the strangest expressions she’d ever seen. Apprehension mixed with sadness coupled with a stern determination she found completely unnerving.

“Because,” said William in a firm voice, “That’s where we collected you from when you were two weeks old.”

“Was I sick?” she asked. Why else would she be in a special children’s hospital?

“No, you weren’t sick,” said Shay. “I saw your chart, you were an extremely healthy baby.”

“My chart? You saw my chart?” Joelle stared wildly from one concerned face to the other. “I don’t understand. What are you saying? For God’s sake someone tell me what you mean?” She leapt to her feet.

“It means,” said her father, “That we adopted you and you are Shay’s missing sister.”

“Adopted me?” Joelle sat down abruptly as her knees collapsed. “Mum?” she whispered gazing desperately at her mother. “That’s impossible, isn’t it? You didn’t. What about Bridget and Melanie? They’re not adopted.” A huge sob worked its way up from deep in her chest and burst out in a gasping, choking cry.

Her mother darted across and knelt before her. She grabbed Joelle’s hands in hers and held tightly. “No they’re not adopted. Just you. We thought I couldn’t have babies so we registered to adopt and you came along. We called you Joelle because you brought us so much joy.”

Joelle gazed into her mother’s tear-stained face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her gaze shifted to her father sitting so pale and silent on the couch. “You lied to me all these years.”

“You were our baby,” her mother cried.

Her father said, “We adored you. You were our own.”

Her mother broke in, the words jumbled and almost inaudible through her tears, “I wanted a child so…much…and you were…tiny when they called us. I always thought of you as my baby…my baby girl.”

“But I wasn’t,” said Joelle. She turned to Shay in wonder. “You’re my brother.”

He nodded and she saw the gleam of tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” His voice broke. He bit his lip. She realised he was talking to her parents. Except now, they weren’t her parents at all. They were William and Natalie.

She dragged her fingers from Natalie’s grasp. “Do Bridget and Melanie know?”

“No, of course not,” said William. He leaned forward; half extended his hand, let it fall to his knees.

“What about Gran and my cousins and…” she stopped. She had no Gran, nor cousins and aunts and uncles.

“The cousins don’t know but the others, the older ones, do. They love you Joelle, just as we do.”

Joelle stared at William blankly. She turned to Shay. “What was our mother’s name? Did they ever find out?”

“Emily Grayson,” he replied. “Her parents were very strict religious types and she was a runaway. From Toowoomba. They’ve passed away.”

“So we only have each other,” she said slowly.

He nodded. Joelle stood up unsteadily, ignoring Natalie sitting distraught at her feet and walked across to where Shay had risen as well. “Thank you for searching for me. For not giving up.”

She put her arms around him carefully and his arms encircled her.

After a moment he released her gently. “These are your parents, your family, Joelle.”

“We love you,” came William’s hoarse voice over the sound of Natalie’s quiet sobs.

Joelle turned to look down at them, the people she’d loved unquestioningly, trusted unthinkingly, thought were irreproachable. “But you lied to me all my life,” she whispered. “How could you do that? What possible excuse can there be?”

“You had no-one else, we wanted you so much and loved you so deeply we never imagined anyone would claim you, take you from us. We thought of you as ours right from the start.”

“But…even so…I know you love me…I do, but shouldn’t you have told me?” she cried.

“Yes,” admitted William. “I see now that we should have told you. It just became more and more difficult the older you grew. Quite frankly, I forgot. I’m sorry.” He rose slowly to his feet grasping the arm of the couch for support. “Joelle, can you forgive us?”

Joelle backed away as he approached. She felt Shay’s body, comforting and solid behind her and fumbled for his hand. He took it and squeezed her fingers.

“I can’t…can’t think right now,” she muttered. “Shay, I have to leave…I need…I can’t…”

She fled with William’s tortured voice in her ears, “Joelle, please darling, wait,” and her mother’s wail of despair, “I knew it was wrong, I knew it. He shouldn’t have come here.”

The front door latch wouldn’t open smoothly and Joelle nearly dropped her bag in the effort of releasing the catch. Shay’s arm reached over her shoulder. Suddenly the door was open and hot air hit her in the face. She stumbled blindly out into the glare of the afternoon, her one thought to escape from this house which was no longer her sanctuary and these people who had suddenly become strangers, aliens.

No parents, no sisters. One brother. That’s all. One brother who had spent his whole life with one thought in his head—find the little sister so dramatically separated from him at birth. A girl he never knew, had never even seen and still he searched for her.

Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, flooding her eyes and distorting her vision so that she tripped on the bottom step. Shay grabbed her arm and she clung to him as they crossed the nature strip to his car.

“I didn’t know,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know.”

Shay flung open the car door and helped her into the passenger seat. He looked back up at the house and saw William standing at the top of the steps. Natalie was nowhere to be seen. How guilty should he feel for splitting this family apart? How much was his guilt and how much theirs? And what were any of them guilty of? Wanting a family? Loving Joelle too much?

Shay strode back up the steps to William, taking them two at a time.

He gripped William by the forearm. “Don’t worry,” he said. “She needs time to absorb it, that’s all. She’s in shock. I’ll take her home and stay with her for a while. Let her come to you. She will, I’m positive of it. In a few days perhaps. Maybe less.”

William stared at him through blank eyes moist with unshed tears. He blinked and his lips moved but no sound emerged.

Shay murmured, “I’m sorry.” He released his hold on William’s arm and turned to leave.

“You were right.” The voice came unrecognisable through the thick layer of emotion. “I’m glad she knows. Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her…” William paused and cleared his throat. “Tell her, her mother was the one who insisted on keeping it secret but I should have insisted on telling. I didn’t so I’m as much to blame. Tell her we love her.”

“I will,” said Shay. “But she knows that and she loves you. Just give her time and some space. Let her call you.”

William reached out this time and clasped Shay’s shoulder. “You’ll let us know, won’t you? What’s happening?”

“Of course.”

“Her sisters…I have to tell her sisters,” William said vacantly. His hand dropped from Shay’s shoulder. “Good-bye, Doctor Brookes.”

“Shay, please call me Shay.” But William had already turned to go into the house.

Joelle sat where he’d left her hunched over in the passenger seat of his car. Her fingers twined constantly in and around each other. Her face had lost all colour and when she looked at him as he slid in beside her the deep blue eyes were wide and stunned.

“Where should I take you?” he asked gently.

“Home, I want to go home,” she cried, startling him with her vehemence. “Away from here.”

Shay started the engine. He didn’t know where she lived but he eased the car away from the kerb and drove down the hill. Joelle said nothing. When they approached the T-junction near the town centre, he asked for directions. She started in her seat and looked around, searching for clues as to their whereabouts. Her head swung from one side to the other but she didn’t seem to be functioning properly yet. Shay pulled the car to the kerbside.

“Where do you live?” he asked. “Is it nearby? In Sunshine Point?”

Something must have clicked over in her mind. “No,” she blurted. “Thirroul.”

Thirroul was the next town south, slightly larger. Shay drove forward and turned right keeping his eyes peeled for signs to the highway. Joelle sat silently beside him, seemingly unaware of where they were going and the blur of weekend traffic and activity outside the car. The roads were jammed with Saturday visitors. Progress, tortoise-like, until they reached the onramp to State Highway 68, became suddenly unimpeded when they joined the rushing flow of vehicles.

Joelle pointed when the first exit to Thirroul appeared. Shay swung left and they plunged into another morass of weekend traffic. Now Joelle began giving directions and within ten minutes, she indicated a block of white painted units. He parked in the visitors’ space outside her empty garage. Her car was back at her shop but she was in no shape to be driving.

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