The Ripple Effect (19 page)

“Hi.” Mel, in black shorts and loose, black, man’s shirt, appeared from the kitchen holding a vegetable peeler.

“That’s a good sign,” said Joelle, indicating the peeler. “Eating properly for my niece.” She summoned a weary smile.

Mel’s face crumpled as tears came streaming down her cheeks. Joelle dropped her bag on the floor to dart forward, heart pounding high in her throat. Please, not a miscarriage or anything—but she wouldn’t be peeling potatoes…

“What’s wrong? Are you all right? The baby?”

Mel nodded and tried to wipe her eyes clumsily with the backs of her hands.

“Careful.” Joelle grabbed the peeler and tossed it on to the bench. She slung an arm around the unprotesting figure and led her to the couch. “Sit down and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing really.”

“There must be something or you wouldn’t be crying like this. I haven’t seen you cry since…” Joelle frowned. “I can’t remember ever seeing you cry apart from when you were a baby.”

Mel pulled a tissue from her short’s pocket. “It’s being pregnant,” she said crossly. “It messes me up. I cry for no reason.” She gave a blast on her nose and sniffed.

There was more to it than that. Mel was tough and realistic, not given to sentimental outbursts. She wasn’t one to wallow in self pity either. But she was in a difficult situation. A frightening situation and one she had none of her normal defences against. Joelle took one of her hands and squeezed the limp fingers.

“Mel, you can stay here as long as you want. You know that, don’t you?”

Mel nodded. “Thanks,” she murmured damply. “Sometimes it just hits me that I’m having a baby and I don’t know anything about it. Nothing.” Two reddened eyes swimming in tears gazed at Joelle. Her face, bare of make-up, looked about thirteen again. “And I can’t even ask Mum…”

“Oh Mel, you will, she’ll come round, she will. And Dad.” Joelle hugged her sister, and for a few rare moments Melanie leaned into her and accepted the closeness. Then she straightened up and blew her nose once more.

“Bridget was really delighted after she got over the surprise,” she said.

“Oh, that’s good. She loves kids.” Guilty. Joelle realised in a flash she hadn’t asked last night about Mel’s call to their sister. She’d been so wrapped up in her own drama it hadn’t occurred to her Mel may have wanted to tell Bridget her own news. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“What for?”

“Being selfish yesterday. I didn’t even ask you what Bridge said about the baby and everything. And I’m sorry for not calling about dinner.”

“Joelle, you are the least selfish person I’ve met in my life. You and Bridge are the best sisters ever.” Mel leapt to her feet. “God, how maudlin can we get? I need a beer.” She headed for the kitchen. “Anyway you can hardly be blamed for thinking about yourself yesterday. It’s not every day a girl gains a brother who could make the most eligible bachelor list.”

Joelle retrieved her bag from the floor and set it on the table. “Plus he’s smart, thoughtful, sensitive and generous. Handy to have a doctor in the family, too.”

This was what she needed to learn. How to discuss Shay dispassionately, like a brother who was available for matchmaking by his sister. She grinned at Mel, relieved the uncharacteristic tears had passed.

“Exactly what I said myself.” Mel picked up the peeler and resumed her attack on a potato. “I made an appointment to see your doctor today.”

“Good girl. You’ll like her.” Thank heavens. Joelle covered the vastness of her relief by asking casually, “What’s for dinner?”

“Cajun chicken breasts, steamed spuds and salad.”

“Wow, sounds good.”

“I quite like cooking,” said Mel in a surprised voice. “I might sign up for cooking classes next. I could do catering from home with a baby, couldn’t I?”

“You can do anything if you stick at it, Mel.”

Mel settled into Joelle’s life more smoothly than either suspected. Joelle figured it had something to do with a new maturity and sense of responsibility brought on by pregnancy. After the eruption of tears that evening she seemed willing to share her thoughts and fears far more than she’d ever shared anything of her personal life with Joelle as children. The visit to Doctor Ceely had passed uneventfully with Mel boasting later of her good health.

“She said I was in prime condition and to keep doing what I’m doing. She said it’s normal to feel tired and extra emotional, too.” She grinned happily at Joelle from her recumbent position on the couch.

By Friday, a routine had emerged whereby Mel did what little housework there was to do, shopped for food and prepared dinner in exchange for her board.

Joelle wondered how long her enthusiasm for home-making would last but as Viv said when she commented on the change of manner, “It’s good training for her and she’s not stupid. She knows if she stuffs you round you’ll chuck her out.”

Joelle laughed. “I wouldn’t do that! Where would she go?”

Viv raised an eyebrow. “To your folks? To the father?”

“Mmm. She hasn’t mentioned him. I’m not sure if I should push it.”

“Have your parents sorted it out with her yet?”

Joelle shook her head. “No. I know she hasn’t called them and they haven’t rung. She’d tell me for sure.”

“Can’t you talk them round?”

“No,” Joelle replied more sharply then she’d intended.

“Why not?”

“It’s not my business. They have to talk it through, not me. I’m as annoyed with them about it as she is.”

“But you’re a go-between. You’re neutral. You’re not taking sides by supporting your sister,” said Viv. “Surely they understand that?”

“It’s very complicated, Viv. Just—leave it, will you?”

“Oh, right.” Viv pulled a face and stalked into the back room, leaving Joelle to ponder the question of whether her own momentous news should become public and when.

Viv would find out some day, as would everyone else she knew. They’d all have to because a brother wasn’t something you could hide. Anyway, why should she hide the information? She wasn’t ashamed of Shay, quite the opposite, she was extremely proud of him. Keeping the secret had caused all the heartache in the first place.

She realised she’d been chewing her lower lip between her teeth and licked her lips quickly to relax her mouth. Telling Viv would expose her parents as liars by default. She’d be forced to defend them. How ironic was that? She wouldn’t be able to listen to someone else, non family, judging her parents as harshly as she had.

She could pretend she’d always known she was adopted and kept it secret herself because it didn’t seem to be an issue. She could pretend she hadn’t known there was a brother and that Shay had just found her—which was true. And that her parents hadn’t known either. That might work. She could play down the part her parents had played.

Better, that Viv discovered who Shay was from her and the sooner the better. He would be in her life from now on.

Viv, holding a long-stemmed rose in one hand and a green plastic bucket in the other, stared at her. “Adopted?”

“Yes. When I was two weeks old.”

“And you never knew?”

Joelle bit her lip. She glanced at the floor at her feet where Viv had dripped water from the bucket. Stan Brookes said lies always came back to bite you on the bum. Shay had told her that. She lifted her gaze to Viv’s.

“No,” she said.

“Hmph.” Viv put the bucket on the floor and the rose in the sink. She folded her arms and leaned against the bench. “Do you know who your real family are?”

“My mother died having me, no-one ever knew who my father is. I have a brother. Shay Brookes. The doctor who came in that day. Remember?”

“Cripes. Fabio?” Viv’s face lit up. “Woohoo!”

Joelle grinned. “Yes, you idiot. He’s known about his sister all his life and always wanted to find her. Now he has.”

“What a fabulous story. I wish I had a brother who looked like that. Ian and Frank look like the Munsters. Although—you’re not much alike, are you?”

“Shay thinks we must have different fathers. And we don’t know what the grandparents looked like.”

“Wild.” Viv unfolded her arms and retrieved the rose from the sink. She picked up the rest of the bunch and turned to the bench. “You were lucky the Paice’s adopted you. What a great couple of parents to get. Whole family for that matter, despite Mel and her problem.”

“Yes, I suppose I was.”

“They did pretty well out of it too, mind you. They could’ve got a real dud.” Viv gave a shout of laughter.

And that was that. Joelle went into the shop with tears pricking her eyelids. No criticism from Viv, just praise all round. No need to fabricate excuses. The truth was best. Stan was right. And another thing she’d learned—what was dramatic and monumental to one person was sometimes simply an item of passing interest to another.

William didn’t know where his youngest daughter was and the realisation hit him deep in the pit of the stomach like a sack full of wet sand. He went to her share house and a hairy young man with an eyebrow ring and worn rubber thongs on his feet told him she’d moved out a week or more ago. He wasn’t sure when, just that Rudy, the lease holder, had decided she was a liability.

“Owes heaps of back rent,” he said. A strong odour of last night’s curry hung in the air mingling with the unmistakeable stink of stale cigarette smoke.

“Didn’t she leave a forwarding address? For mail?” asked William. The chill of desolation began working its way through his body. He’d lost his girl, his baby daughter.

“No. Some guy also came round for her though just after she left. If you find her, tell her Luke’s looking for her. Seemed pretty upset that she wasn’t here.”

William had never heard of a Luke. The father? Upset and searching could be a good sign. A ray of hope flickered feebly through the gloom. “Did he leave a number?”

“Umm, yeah. Hang on.” He left William standing on the step. The screen door swung shut and a black and white cat nipped out, narrowly missing getting its tail caught. William watched it saunter away down the path. Oh, to be so careless. Cats didn’t worry about their offspring. Cats didn’t worry about anything.

Scuffing footsteps sounded in the passageway. William turned as the door opened.

“Here.” The man offered a piece of paper ripped from a notepad.

“Thanks very much.” William glanced at the numbers. A mobile phone. The screen door closed. “Tell Rudy I’ll pay the rent she owes. This is my name and address.” He tore the bottom corner off the paper, pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled the details.

“Okay. See you later, mate.”

The screen latched itself and the front door was half shut now. At the risk of sounding desperate and pathetic in the face of this boy’s casual indifference, William blurted, “If Melanie comes back or you hear anything will you tell her to call her parents? Please?”

“Sure.” The door closed with a decisive click.

William followed the cat’s route along the garden path to the street. The cat was sitting plumply by the fence, watching him with yellow eyes. He stood for a moment with the sun warm on his back, thinking. Where would Mel go? Not to her lover, obviously. Who were her friends? Shamefully, he didn’t know, not really. Mel walked by herself. Like the cat.

But she needed help now.

Of course. The obvious place. Joelle. William sat in his car for some time pondering his next move. Should he ring her apartment? He could do that while Jo was at work. If Mel was there she’d answer, if she wasn’t he’d get the machine. He could leave a message. Or he could go to Thirroul and knock on the door.

William didn’t think either he or Joelle were ready to face each other yet. Today was only Monday, two days after the earthquake. She had to be ready. He thought Brookes was right about that aspect. He had to be ready, too. As for Natalie…well…William turned the key in the ignition.

Natalie was at Dr Thorpe’s today. Job-sharing half days with a young mother had worked perfectly all around. Usually Cheryl did Monday mornings but this week she’d asked Nat to switch—which was fine. It meant she couldn’t stay home and mope, but she’d been so distracted this morning he didn’t trust her to drive herself to work. He hoped the office routine would give her some semblance of normalcy to cling to.

The engine roared into life. The radio came on with the announcer cheerily telling everyone it was sixteen minutes past noon. Nearly time to pick Natalie up so any visiting or phoning would have to wait until tomorrow. He wouldn’t tell her Mel had disappeared, Natalie was still in the angry stage—far from forgiveness and reconciliation. She’d say she didn’t care which wouldn’t be true at all. She’d say Mel had to sort herself out and she’d be furious William had been to her house.

The events were beginning to bear an eerie and frightening resemblance to those surrounding Joelle’s poor young mother. He and Natalie had unthinkingly and ultimately, selfishly, pushed their daughter away when she’d come to them most needing their assistance. So cruel.

At least Joelle had promised to take care of her. But would Mel accept that care? Those two had never been very close. William rubbed a hand across his eyes as a lone tear forced its way through his lids.

He must repair the rift with one daughter before it became as vast and complicated an issue as with the other. He must take decisive action this time. Soon.

“Look,” called Melanie as soon as Joelle walked through the door on Friday evening.

Joelle looked. Mel was sitting at the table, pen in hand, contemplating an untidy pile of white, addressed envelopes, a box of unused envelopes, a stack of paper which appeared to be copies of the letter Shay had emailed and another few sheets of paper with tightly printed lists. Names and addresses photocopied from the phone book, Joelle realised as she peered more closely. Graysons. With half the names in one column crossed off. The piles of envelopes, addressed in Mel’s handwriting, all to Sydney residents.

“Shay’s doing the Queensland ones,” Mel said. “You can help me, now. We should do all of NSW.”

“Where did you get all the names?” Shay and Mel must have been in constant communication. By-passing her even though she and Shay had spoken just last night. She’d seen the letter he’d composed, of course, but apart from that the Grayson search had steamed ahead without her.