The Ripple Effect (15 page)

“It’s not fair to knowingly and deliberately deprive a child of its father or vice versa. Unless there’s a very, very good reason. I can speak from firsthand knowledge, Mel. Believe me, it’s like being an incomplete person. It gnaws away inside all the time. Even though I was completely happy as a kid, always, underneath everything, was the knowledge. I never really knew where I came from or where I belonged. Maybe that’s how ghosts feel.” Shay laughed. “Doomed to wander the earth until someone lays their souls to rest.” He sat back and smiled at Joelle, slightly shamefaced.

She extended her hand and he grasped it tightly. His eyes were moist too. Their hands melded together. She didn’t want to let him go.

“I want to go to Birrigai, Shay,” she said. “I want to see where I was born and I want to meet Stan.”

Shay nodded. He eased his fingers from her grasp. “The head nurse, Olive, is still at the medical centre. She’d love to meet you. She told me she and Doctor Jenny became very attached to you even though they only had you there ten days or so. She said they gave you a name.”

“What was it?” asked Mel before Joelle could speak.

“Claire.”

“Claire,” repeated Joelle. “Pretty. Claire Grayson,” she murmured experimentally. Was that who she really was?

“You could be a Claire,” said Mel studying Joelle with her head tilted to one side.

Joelle turned to Shay. “When can we go to Birrigai? How long does it take to get there?”

His soft brown eyes regarded her thoughtfully. Joelle swallowed as her gaze met his. Something sparked. He looked away. She was embarrassing him, already had by making an unwanted advance. Heat rose slowly up her neck. Mel was sure to notice, sitting opposite with eyes like an eagle.

She had to keep the facts uppermost in her mind—this man was her brother. Any fantasies she’d had about a relationship were gone, buried and forgotten. Impossible.

Shay said, “It’s a full day’s drive from Sydney. I don’t have any extended time off until Easter. I’ve just taken my fortnight’s holiday to track you down.”

“Easter’s weeks away,” cried Joelle. Disappointment flooded through her, washing away the previous discomfort with a wave of despair.

“How will you start searching for your father?” asked Melanie. “I can help. I’ve got nothing to do.”

“What about TAFE?” asked Joelle. “I thought you were doing hairdressing?”

“I hated it. Anyway the smell of the chemicals they use made me sick. You wouldn’t believe what they put in your hair.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stop colouring yours?” asked Joelle. “I can’t even remember what colour it is naturally.”

“Rich mouse,” said Mel. “Yeah, while I’m pregnant anyway. I told you, the smell makes me sick.”

“Natural protection,” commented Shay. “Your baby is telling you what it wants you to do for its own safety.”

“It’s telling me I need to pee again,” said Mel and uncurled herself from the papasan. “It also tells me I need to pee in the middle of the night and to have an afternoon nap. I’m turning into an old lady,” she grumbled as she left the room.

“Quite a girl,” said Shay when the toilet door closed. He smiled.

Joelle fought down the rush of jealousy. He’d hardly dragged his eyes from Mel’s bare legs and exposed midriff when she walked away. She’d have to start dressing differently when her belly expanded.

This was insane. She couldn’t be jealous of her brother’s interest in her sister.

But he did seem to be very interested. And so was Mel—taking over with her questions and her fascination with the whole thing. As though it was some interesting show on TV and not in real life. Her life, her feelings. Her brother. Just like Mel to turn up at the most inconvenient moment and butt in.

“She’s lucky she has you to fall back on,” he continued. “What do your parents’ think about her situation?”

“They’re not my parents,” snapped Joelle. “I told you. They were furious.”

She sprang off the couch, stalked across to the sliding door and pulled it open. The air was still steamy and hot despite the breeze from the ocean. A few big white clouds had begun building castles on the horizon out to sea. Joelle leaned on the balcony railing and drew in deep lungfuls of air. She closed her eyes. Perhaps when she opened them everything would go back to normal. Her parents would still be her parents; Mel would be being the independent, rarely seen Mel, and Shay…

He was the problem. For her to love Shay the way she wanted to he would have to be the stranger who’d walked into the shop. But he’d only walked into the shop because he was her brother. Catch 22.

At least this way she’d see him for the rest of their lives. He’d always be there now. But he’d meet someone else, fall in love and marry and she’d have to watch and be happy for him. Maybe in time her love at first sight would turn into another type of love. The kind she had for her sisters. Maybe in time she’d discover this instant attraction was just an infatuation. A crush.

Tears she hadn’t realised were falling, dripped onto her wrists as they rested on the balcony rail. She sniffed and wiped one hand across her face. Voices murmured in the room behind her but she didn’t turn. Let them talk. She needed to be alone.

“Jo?” Mel’s voice interrupted softly. “Shay’s leaving. I’ll go with him and bring your car back. He said you’d left it at the shop.”

“Thanks.” Her voice sounded half-strangled. “The keys are in my bag. It’s parked in the area at the back.”

Shay’s voice came next. He didn’t approach but spoke to her from the doorway.

“Joelle, call me any time you like. I left my home number and my mobile by the phone.”

She turned then and stared at him. She wanted to walk forward and put her arms around him, she wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her, loving her. She loved him but she’d never have him the way she wanted. Words wouldn’t come so she nodded blindly.

“Bye,” he said. “Call me.”

When the door closed behind them, Joelle stayed on the balcony staring out at the gathering storm. Everything out there was the same as it had been this morning. Everything in the apartment was the same as it had been when she dressed for work this morning, eagerly because Shay was coming.
Dope. Stupid girl.
Nothing would ever be the same again. Her whole paradigm had shifted from rock to sand, slipping and sliding under her feet.

Her only life belts were Shay and Melanie. And who’d have thought Mel would be the one she’d cling to in a crisis? Or vice versa. Mel was clinging to her just as tightly. But Mel’s crisis would be short-lived because her parents would help her eventually, of that Joelle had no doubt. She was carrying their grandchild and they weren’t religious nuts who served up fire and brimstone with their morning cereal and damned the sinner.

But Joelle had no parents to count on. Her poor innocent mother was dead because she’d given birth, sacrificed herself for her baby. For Joelle. Or Claire.

And what of her father? Who was he? Where was he? And was he the same man as Shay’s father?

Too many questions still unanswered. Joelle left the balcony and went to the bathroom, stripping off her dress as she went. She turned the taps on and stood under the lukewarm spray, letting the water pour down over her head and wash away the tracks of her tears along with the sweat and grime of this most horrendous of days.

When Mel returned she brought with her pizza and a bottle of red wine. Joelle was sitting on the papasan letting her hair dry naturally and thinking—random chaotic unhelpful thoughts to do with love, loss and betrayal. She was ready for company and sniffed appreciatively.

“I brought dinner,” said Mel. “See, I’m doing my share of cooking already.”

Joelle smiled. She stood up. Mel was irrepressible and just what she needed. “Stick it in the oven while I make a salad.”

“Do we need salad?”

“Yes, you need to eat properly. And remember what Shay said about drinking?”

“He said I can,” retorted Mel.

“Have you seen the doctor yet?” Joelle opened the fridge and studied the contents. Just enough lettuce, one tomato. Half a bottle of prepared dressing. “There’s a bowl up there,” she said and pointed to the cupboard next to Mel’s head.

“No.” Mel plonked the bowl on the bench. “I can see Shay instead.”

“He’s in Sydney,” said Joelle. “Anyway, you need to see a gynaecologist eventually, don’t you?”

“A friend of mine had a homebirth with a midwife,” said Melanie.

“Well, you can forget that. No way am I having a home birth here.”

“Why not?”

“What if something went wrong? What do I know about birthing?”

“You wouldn’t have to deliver it,” said Mel scornfully. “Shay could.”

“What if he doesn’t want to?”

“He’s family. Of course he’ll want to.”

“For heaven’s sake. He isn’t your family, Mel.” Joelle slammed the knife into the tomato. “You always expect everyone to help you. You swan about doing what you like and get other people to pick up after you. Mum was right.”

“But she’s not your Mum, is she?” said Mel. “If we’re going to play nasty,” she added in a vain attempt to soften the blow.

Joelle dumped the tomato pieces into the bowl and attacked the lettuce, ripping it with trembling fingers.

“Where’s your corkscrew?” Mel opened a drawer and rummaged about.

“The next one down.” Mel was impossible. How were they ever going to survive living together? How long was she expecting to stay? She rinsed the lettuce and mixed it in with the tomatoes and dressing.

“Here.” Mel thrust a glass of wine under her nose. “I’m sorry, Jo. I know I can be a real bitch at times. I’m really grateful you let me stay.”

Joelle took the glass. Mel was looking at her with that same expression of underlying fear she’d worn earlier. Unsure of herself, unsure of her welcome. Afraid she’d overstepped some invisible boundary of which she’d only just become aware. Perhaps she was finally growing up.

“I’m sorry, too. It’s been a tough day.”

Mel said with an accompanying grimace, “I know and I’m not helping, am I?”

“Actually,” said Joelle. “You are.” She raised her glass and clinked with Mel’s.

Mel grinned. “You know your brother is one hot looking guy.” Joelle sipped her wine and headed for the couch to cover her embarrassment. “If I didn’t know better I’d say he really fancied you. The way he looks at you—”

“I’m his sister, Melanie.”

“Yes, but not really,” she said trailing after Joelle. “Well, you are but not the way we are. You didn’t grow up together. What if you’d met and didn’t know you were related? What then? What if he’d asked you out and you’d fallen in love and all that? Plenty of people could have already done it, couldn’t they?”

She sat down, still talking, running with her idea. “I bet that has happened. It wouldn’t be anyone’s fault. You could fall in love with your brother because to you he’d be a total stranger. You could live your whole lives together and never know. Wow!”

Joelle said nothing. She couldn’t. There was nothing to say. For once, in her crazy, scattergun way, Mel was absolutely right. What if he’d walked into the flower shop—a total stranger—and she’d fallen head over heels…

But Mel hadn’t finished. “Just imagine,” she said. “How terrible it would be to find out. Too late. After you’d fallen in love or even got married. Or had kids! Wow!”

Shay drove back to Sydney, his mind bursting over with thoughts and images of his sister. His gorgeous, real, alive and breathing sister. Her beautiful face, her smiling mouth, her gentle personality, the curls that teased around her cheeks, her deep blue eyes. Joelle was smart and ambitious as well as lovely. She was kind and caring as evidenced by her treatment of that crazy, irresponsible Melanie. Quite simply she was perfect. Plus she’d dealt with the shock of the whole thing pretty well.

The parents would just have to ride out the storm. Joelle would forgive them for what she saw as their betrayal of her trust eventually. She wasn’t a vindictive girl. He’d do his best to steer her back towards them when the raw edge of her pain had worn down.

Melanie was a character and a half. Very strong but just a little fearful of her new role as pregnant single girl. She’d been defiantly adamant the father of her baby was out of the picture but there’d been a definite softening when she began to realise the lifelong implications for her child. It’d be interesting to see where that led. Joelle may well be right in her assessment of William and Natalie. They’d come through for their daughter, for sure.

Families.
So complex. Shay grinned with delight. He had a family for the first time. A real family. Now he and Joelle could go about discovering the rest of theirs. “Where will you start?” Mel had asked and she’d asked again when he drove her to pick up Joelle’s yellow Beetle. She seemed fascinated by their story and anxious to help.

“I’m not sure,” he’d replied.

“I reckon you should start with those two grandparents, the Graysons. Where did they come from?”

“Toowoomba.”

“There might be others still around up there. Great aunts and uncles. You should check the phone book.”

“Good idea.”

“I’ll do it,” she said eagerly. “And I can get on the internet too. Joey’s got a computer.”

“Joey? Do you call her that?” Shay laughed. He liked it.

“She hates it when I do.” Mel grinned back at him. “I’ll make up a list of Graysons. It’s not all that common a name. We can write to them all and ask if they’re related to yours. Do you know their first names? Their Christian names?” Her lip curled in disgust. “What a contradiction that is.”

“I’ll have to ask Stan, my Dad.”

“I’d love to come with you when you go to Birrigai with Jo,” she said.

Shay shook his head. “Not unless Joelle wants you along. I think she’d probably rather just go alone. With me, I mean.”

“Mmm.”

Mel raised her eyebrows and sent him a half-smiling, teasing look he didn’t understand. She was a character all right.

“Shay,” she said when he dropped her off. “Can I come to see you as a doctor, about the baby?”

“I think you’d be better off seeing someone in this area, Mel,” he said. “Not that I don’t want to, it’s just better at the other end, for the birth. And you’ll need to line up a gynaecologist.”