The Ripple Effect (9 page)

“Is that a real tattoo?” Joelle asked as Melanie turned to inspect the cooking meat and revealed a small dragon winding over her tanned shoulder.

“Yep. Like it?”

“A tattoo?” asked her father. “Where?”

Melanie pulled the singlet strap aside.

“Not bad,” said Uncle Phil. “Has Natalie seen it?”

“Not yet.”

“I like it,” said Joelle. Mel gave her a surprised grin.

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s a lovely Chinese dragon. Symbolises good luck”

“There’s not much I can say, is there?” Her father prodded a sausage. Juice and fat squirted hissing onto the barbecue. Obviously, he didn’t think much of the good luck aspect.

“Not a thing, Dad,” said Melanie. She took a swig from the stubbie and belched quietly.

Uncle Phil raised his eyebrows.

“Is Paul here?” asked Melanie.

“No.”

“Who’s Paul?” Uncle Phil’s eyebrows danced upwards again.

“Jo’s boyfriend,” said Mel.

“No, he isn’t. He’s a friend.”

“Since when?”

“Since he’s always only been a friend.” Joelle began to walk towards the house. The last thing she wanted was an interrogation and discussion of her love life in front of her father and Uncle Phil.

Mel followed. She was like a terrier sometimes. Didn’t know when to drop a subject. They reached the steps to the terrace and she said, “Who was the guy you had coffee with yesterday?”

“None of your business,” Joelle said automatically. The Annie grapevine hadn’t failed, just as she’d thought. Paul should know by now too, otherwise why had Mel brought up the subject at all? She thought Paul was too boring for words.

“I saw Annie last night at Frenetic. She said he was a hunk and you two were gazing into each other’s eyes.”

“What? Annie’s such a…” Joelle laughed incredulously. “He came into the shop to buy flowers and asked me to have coffee. He was very nice and he had some time to fill before he went back to Sydney. I think he’d had a traumatic meeting with someone and he just needed a friendly chat.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“So? Have you given Paul the flick yet?”

“I think so,” said Joelle. Something about the expression on Melanie’s face—surprise, sympathy perhaps, or at least a softening of the normally scornful curl to her lip made her say, “But I don’t see why I couldn’t have an innocent coffee with another man even if I hadn’t split with him. Paul’s too…oppressive. He doesn’t understand I’m not madly in love with him. He’s always coming in to the shop—like he’s checking up on me. I suggested he go out with other girls and he freaked. He went all cold and angry.”

“You’re better off,” said Mel. “Trust me.”

For once Joelle could agree with her sister, much as she hated to admit it. She pulled the sliding door open, standing aside to allow other guests to move outside. Mel headed for the kitchen swinging her empty stubbie by the neck. The caterers were busily setting out food on the dining table that had been pushed along one wall of the spacious family room.

Grey-haired old Mrs Wilberforce was sitting by herself in a corner clutching a glass of fruit punch. Joelle walked over to join her, dragging another chair close.

“Hello Mrs W,” she said.

“Hello, Joelle.”

“I hope you won’t mind but I parked on your nature strip. There wasn’t any room anywhere else.”

“That’s all right, dear. It’s a wonderful party isn’t it? Your mother has so many friends, it was kind of her to invite me.”

“Of course she’d invite you. You’ve been neighbours for as long as I can remember.”

“Yes, John and I came here about a year after your parents. You were just a tiny baby, I remember, and your Dad was a history teacher at the school.”

“Yes, he was made Principal when I was about five.”

“I used to mind you and your sisters for your mother sometimes.”

“I remember that too. We liked playing with Pebbles.”

“Poor Pebbles has moved on to the big doggy playground,” Mrs W said and chuckled. “Years ago now.”

“Mum used to get upset when Pebbles jumped up and licked our faces.” Joelle laughed. “She doesn’t like dogs. She’s more a cat person.”

“Natalie’s a lovely lady. She gave me a beautiful bunch of flowers yesterday. ‘To make up for all the cars and bother in the street today’, she said. As if I’d worry about something like that on her birthday.”

“I wonder where she got those,” said Joelle in surprise.

“Oh, from your shop, of course,” said Mrs W. “Where else? Your sticker was on the wrapper. The liliums are wonderful, such perfume it fills the whole house.”

“She must have popped in when I was out. We had a big wedding to do yesterday.” But if she had, why hadn’t Viv or Tracey mentioned they’d seen her and why had she tried to phone all day? If she’d been to the shop she’d know about the wedding. She could easily have left a message. As Alice said, ‘Curiouser and curiouser.’

Plus the liliums had sold out on Friday and she’d been in the shop all day except that half hour with Shay. Viv would definitely have mentioned seeing Natalie.

Later, when the last guests had staggered off into the darkness, the relatives had departed, the caterers had packed up and most importantly cleaned up, and the Latin American music was back in its box, Joelle sat on the terrace in the warm night air with her family. Mel sprawled on one cane chair with her bare feet on another. Her parents lay side by side in recliners, gazing up at the stars.

“Thank you for a lovely birthday.” Her mother smiled from one to the other. Joelle’s father extended his hand and she took it. “I’m truly blessed. I have a wonderful family. It’s such a shame Bridget isn’t here.”

“We have a fantastic Mum,” said Joelle.

No-body spoke for a few minutes. Joelle stared into the darkness of the garden. A gentle ocean breeze began stirring the leaves and moving cooler air about, heavy with the smell of the sea. Such a lovely night. What was Shay doing right now? Was he thinking about her the way she was thinking about him? She’d have to leave soon. Work tomorrow. Where had those flowers come from her mother had given Mrs W?

“Mum?” she said. “When did you buy those flowers you gave Mrs W?”

“Flowers?” Her mother’s surprised voice sounded loud in the quiet of the night.

“Mrs W said they had our sticker on the wrapper.”

“Oh. Umm I…”

“Someone gave them to your mother,” came her father’s quiet voice.

“Who? A secret admirer?” asked Mel.

Joelle giggled. “Why would she give them away, in that case?”

“So Dad wouldn’t murder him and bury him in the garden.”

“Maybe he already has.”

“It was someone who came to the house to see us,” he said in a voice clearly fed up with their nonsense.

“When?”

“On Friday.”

That made sense but who could it have been? Why were they both being so cagey? Joelle began idly sifting through the customers who’d bought bouquets with liliums on Friday. Not too many because there hadn’t been a lot left.

“Who was it?” she asked.

“For heaven’s sake why are you two so nosey?” snapped her mother. “We’d invited someone over and he brought me flowers.”

“And you gave them away? Nice one,” said Mel.

“The perfume was rather overpowering but they were so pretty I didn’t want to throw them out.”

“I’ve got something to tell you,” said Mel abruptly into the silence that followed this statement.

“You’ve ditched hairdressing and you’re switching to plumbing?”

“Shut up, Jo, you can be such a bitch.” Mel swung her feet off the chair and grabbed her stubbie of beer from the table.

“Melanie,” snapped her father in his headmaster’s voice.

“What is it?” Their mother’s voice still held a tinge of annoyance.

“I’m pregnant.”

“What?” “How?” “Oh mon dieu.” Three equally outraged, amazed voices shattered the peace of the night.

“I’m pregnant, the usual way,” said Mel enunciating clearly. “And no I’m not going to marry the father or live with him and I am going to keep this baby. I think.”

“Do we know the father?” asked Joelle’s mother carefully.

“Don’t think so.”

“Can we have his name?”

Melanie studied the bottle in her hand. “I don’t see why that will make any difference.”

“Should you be drinking beer?” asked Joelle.

Mel shrugged. “Probably not.”

“Does he know?” asked her father. “He should be taking some responsibility in this, Melanie.”

“He doesn’t know and I’m not going to tell him.” Her face took on a familiar, stubborn expression.

“Doesn’t he have a right to know?” asked Joelle. “It’s a pretty big secret to keep from him.”

“You don’t know anything about it, Jo, so just keep quiet.”

Joelle retreated from the anger in her sister’s voice. “Sorry.” She looked at her parents hoping they could say or do something to help but they looked as stunned as she was.

“Have you any idea of the size of the task you’re taking on?” said her mother. “This is a child you’re talking about, this is forever.” Her voice rose and she sat up straight. “How will you support it? How will you provide for this baby? You have no income, no career, no…anything. You can’t bring a baby up in that share house you’re in.”

“Don’t worry, Mum I won’t expect you to look after it if that’s what you’re worried about.” Melanie leapt up, her feet thudding onto the tiled surface.

“I just don’t understand, Melanie, how you could you allow this to happen.” Her father stood as well, his expression angrier than Joelle had ever seen it. “Have you no sense at all? Haven’t you heard of contraception? What on earth was going through your head?”

Melanie gave a scornful laugh. “Do you really want me to answer that, Dad?”

He ran his hands through his hair with an exasperated sigh.

“I’m…I don’t know what to say,” said her mother. She slumped back against the recliner cushions.

“I’m sorry I spoiled your birthday,” said Melanie sarcastically. She groped about with her foot to retrieve a sandal, slipped it on and searched for the other.

“Mel, how are you feeling? How far along are you?” asked Joelle. Was Mel as sick every morning as Susan? She looked all right, paler than usual perhaps but well.

“I’m fine.” Melanie stared at her. She bit her lip and her voice was softer when she said, “Three months.”

“Sit down, Melanie,” said her father. “We need to talk about this.”

“Why? So you can tell me I’m irresponsible and stupid? I don’t think so, Dad.”

Joelle sprang to her feet and grasped her sister’s arm. “Stay, Mel, please.”

“No, I think I should go. You can discuss me when I’ve gone.”

“Do you need a ride home?” asked Joelle. “I’ll drive you.” Melanie didn’t own a car. She cadged lifts, took the bus or very occasionally as a last resort rode her bike about.

“Thanks. I was going to call a taxi.”

“I’ll take you.”

Their mother’s voice cut through like a knife. “I’m so disappointed, Melanie. I thought I’d brought you up to have more sense. This will completely ruin your life. You won’t have any chance at establishing any type of career now.”

“Hah, like I had before? No career, Mum, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“What will you live off? The single mother’s pension? You’ll be poor and you’ll struggle and so will your baby. Children are expensive,” said their father.

“I’m nineteen, I’m an adult and I can take care of myself, Dad. I’ve never asked you for money before and I won’t now.”

“I wouldn’t call being single, pregnant, unemployed with no prospects and hardly any money in the bank the situation of a capable adult,” said her mother harshly.

“I take it that means you won’t be helping Mel?” asked Joelle, shocked.

“We didn’t say that,” said her father.

“She thinks she can cope, let her,” said her mother. “Let her take responsibility for her actions for once.”

“Natalie, there’s a child involved. Our grandchild.”

“Can we go, Jo?” Melanie stalked across the terrace and yanked the sliding door open.

Joelle looked from one angry face to the other. “I’ll look after her,” she said quickly.

Her mother snorted and turned away furiously, her fingers clenched in fists clutched to her breast. “How could she be so…idiotic?” she hissed. “Bringing a child into the world like this.”

“Mum?” Joelle took a step toward the rigid figure but her father placed a restraining hand on her arm.

“Leave it, Jo,” he said softly. “Take your sister home. I’ll talk to your mother. She’s…we’ve all had a shock. Don’t worry. We won’t abandon her.”

Joelle looked again at her mother’s stiff back. “Bye Mum.”

Melanie was waiting at the front door, her face a blank, expressionless mask. They went out and down the steps in silence. Joelle indicated to the right. Her Beetle glimmered softly under a streetlight further down the now deserted street.

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” Melanie said.

“I’m amazed they were like that. I never expected Mum to be so furious.”

“She likes things to be done her way. Hadn’t you noticed?” Mel continued without waiting for a reply, “I suppose you wouldn’t, you were always Miss Perfect.”

“Me? You were the one who got away with everything. I wasn’t allowed to do half the things you were.”

“I haven’t got away with this, have I?”

They reached the Beetle and Joelle unlocked the door. She climbed in and opened the passenger side. Melanie slumped into the seat beside her.

“Are you going to keep the baby?” Joelle asked. The engine roared, burped and roared again.

“Too late for an abortion if that’s what you mean and I didn’t even consider that.”

“Really?” That pleased her in a way she hadn’t expected, hadn’t ever seriously thought about in terms of herself but in terms of Mel and her general attitude, she’d made assumptions.

Melanie nodded. “I can look after this baby.”

“You’ll need help.” Jo steered across the nature strip and they bounced down the kerb onto the road.

“I know.”

“Are you going to tell the father? He should help you.”

“Maybe. Later. I don’t want him thinking he has to marry me or anything. Move in.”