The Ripple Effect Part 10

He heard her open the fridge, the clink of ice against gla.s.s and the gurgle of pouring liquid. The fridge door shut softly and she appeared smiling in the archway holding a gla.s.s of juice.

"Hi. Looks like a storm coming," she said.

"Thank goodness. How are you?"

"Fine, Dad. h.e.l.lo, Mum."

Natalie managed a taut smile. Joelle kicked off her sandals and stretched out on the divan leaning against the cushions piled at one end. She held the chilled gla.s.s against her cheek.

"The shop's so cool I didn't realise how hot it was until we finished this evening. It wasn't too bad earlier."

"No, it's really built up this afternoon," agreed William.

Even though she looked relaxed he had the impression she was about to say something-something she was reluctant to bring up but was determined to, nevertheless. If there was one thing he knew about Joelle, she followed through when she'd fixed her mind on something. He waited, positive he knew exactly what the subject would be. The same one he and Natalie had been discussing. She was about to give them a blast about their treatment of Melanie.

William glanced at Natalie. She clutched her gin and tonic like a life preserver. She hadn't uttered a word to Joelle. He knew she'd hardly slept last night. He'd woken several times with her restless tossing and turning and the last time he'd blearily looked at the red numbers on the clock and read four-twelve am, she hadn't been in bed.

Joelle took a long swallow of her juice and placed the gla.s.s on the floor by the divan.

"Are you staying for dinner?" asked Natalie abruptly. She began to rise from her chair but Joelle said quickly, "Don't worry about me, Mum. It's too hot to think about eating yet."

"There's a lot of food left over-salads and things. Desserts," Natalie said vaguely. She sat down again.

"I wanted to ask you about that man who visited on Friday," said Joelle. "The mysterious one with the flowers."

William shot a startled look at his wife. Her lips had tightened. She drained her gin and tonic.

"Would you like another, darling?" he asked. He leapt to his feet and virtually s.n.a.t.c.hed the empty gla.s.s from her hand. She nodded. He read the fear in her expression. It matched the fear in his own heart. Fear of the inevitable, the reckoning. "Back in a minute." He headed for the kitchen. How could they have thought this day would never come?

"I know who he is," called Joelle. Natalie gasped. William stopped dead and spun around.

"How do you know?"

"His name is Shay Brookes and he's a doctor from Sydney." Joelle looked from one to the other accusingly and his heart contracted in his chest. "Why won't you help him find his sister, Dad?" she asked. "That's very cruel."

"How do you know this man?" Natalie broke in, her voice harsh.

Surprise and alarm drove Joelle's next words out in a flood. "He bought the flowers from me and he also invited me to have coffee with him. I like him. A lot. He's desperate to find his sister and he can't understand why, when you know who she is, you won't tell him. Neither can I," she finished loudly.

"It is absolutely none of your business." Natalie drew in a ragged breath. Her cheeks had turned a dull red and her fingers, spread claw-like, gripped the arms of her chair. "I don't understand why this Shay Brookes has told you anything at all."

"Why shouldn't he? He's not ashamed of being adopted." Joelle swung her legs to the floor and sat up straight with both hands pressed flat against the cotton covering of the divan.

William intervened quietly. "Did he ask you to approach us?"

Any moment now Natalie would say something they'd all regret. Brookes' deception surprised and disappointed him. He'd believed the man's promise not to tell Joelle anything. He had not, however, William remembered with a sick feeling in the stomach, promised not to approach her.

"No, he didn't. In fact he said the opposite. That you would be angry if I became involved, but I thought I knew you better than that." Her face crumpled in perplexity. "It seems I don't."

"It's a very complicated situation," said William gently.

"I don't see how," she said, stubborn to the end. "It seems very straightforward to me. You know who his sister is and you won't tell him."

William picked up his neglected beer, giving himself time to formulate a reply to a statement that was unequivocally correct.

"Why are we discussing this man when your sister is the one we should be concerning ourselves with?" demanded Natalie. "Surely she is far more important to you than some stranger with a story?"

Joelle stared at her mother. Familiar danger signs were gathering. Her brow wrinkled as her eyes opened wide in astonishment. Her mouth took on that determined firmness he knew of old. She'd been a strong minded toddler. Right on cue thunder rumbled in the distance, then again, much closer.

He cut in quickly with, "Did you talk to Mel at all after you left, Jo?"

"Of course, I did," came the scornful reply. "I told her if she needed any help she could come to me."

"I'm sorry about how I reacted. Was she upset?"

"What do you think, Dad? Maybe you should tell her you're sorry."

"Yes, I will."

"So we're supposed to pick up the pieces for her, are we? Melanie has no sense of responsibility, none!"

"Mum," shouted Joelle. "Why are you so upset? Lots of unmarried girls have babies these days and no-one worries about it. It's not the fifties when it was a shameful thing. Mel will cope. I'll help her and you never know, it may be a good thing for her."

"You think it's perfectly all right, don't you? You girls have no idea how it is for the child. All you think is, it's my right to do what I please, someone will look after me when I make a mistake. Melanie is so selfish she is not even considering the wishes of the father, let alone the wellbeing of her child." Natalie stood up, her whole body quivering with rage. "I see no reason for you to apologise to her, William. All you did was state your opinion. Melanie never has any problem stating hers." She strode to the door and paused. "I'm going to prepare dinner now. You're welcome to stay, Joelle, as long as you don't discuss that man again."

"Wow," Joelle, deflated, said softly after Natalie disappeared. "What's going on, Dad?"

Lightning flashed. William stood up to peer out the gla.s.s doors leading on to the terrace. Giant cloud boulders rolled around in the sky grumbling, rumbling and deciding whether to release the stored up deluge. More lightning crackled across the tortured horizon.

"Your Mum's very upset. First that Brookes chap came along demanding information which we're not able to divulge at this moment and then Mel floors us with her announcement..." He sighed.

"But I don't understand," she wailed.

"I'm sorry, love," he said. "Your mother and I decided we can't say anything unless we both agree to."

Fat drops plopped on to the sun-hot tiles of the terrace. Steam rose in little puffs from the first few to land, but with a crash of thunder directly overhead which rattled the windows and made Joelle squeak with surprise, more fell with such speed and force they bounced high off the surface. Within seconds, the terrace was awash and Joelle had come to stand silently beside him staring out into the darkened garden.

"I really like Shay, Dad," she said softly. "I think he likes me, too. I feel as if we have...something...an affinity. I thought so the first moment I saw him come into the shop. How did you feel when you first met Mum?"

William closed his eyes.

Oh. My. G.o.d. What had they done?

What had that fellow said-Brookes' father? *Lies become a much heavier burden than the truth ever does?'

Shay left the Glebe terrace at ten on Sat.u.r.day morning. Even allowing for traffic he was giving himself more than enough time to reach Sunshine Point by one. He knew that. He also knew he was leaving early because he couldn't stand waiting any longer. The truth was he could have left at six in the morning, or even five, but forced himself to stay in bed until dawn, go for a five kilometre run, have breakfast, do a load of washing, hang it out, fill the car with petrol...

The week had dragged. Time was elastic. It had the property of the chewing gum they'd chomped on as kids-stretchable into the thinnest most fragile of ribbons then rolled into a tiny compact dried-up little lump. All the days since Monday had stretched to infinity. Seemingly endless streams of patients had walked through his surgery room door, ushered in by the ever-efficient Kavita.

"Many more?" he'd asked on Wednesday to be told with her dazzling smile, "Doctor Brookes, it is only half past eleven in the morning. I have you scheduled to finish at six this evening."

He must have looked completely stunned because she said in a motherly tone, "I shall bring you another cup of tea, Doctor, with two chocolate biscuits. For energy. A doctor you may be but I don't think you eat properly."

"I do," he'd protested but she went away muttering about young single men's diets and general cooking inability. He couldn't figure out how she arrived at the conclusion chocolate biscuits came under good nutrition but he ate them.

He reached Sunshine Point at eleven-fifteen. Traffic was fairly heavy on such a beautiful weekend by the sea and he cruised up and down the beachfront twice before a family wagon pulled out from a kerbside parking s.p.a.ce.

An hour and three quarters to fill. Shay stood on the footpath in the sun. Waves crashed onto the beach across the road. Seagulls squawked and cried, whirling about in the crystal clear air. The sand was littered with sunbathers and shade umbrellas, brightly coloured towels and tanned bodies. Out in the water heads bobbed about, appearing and disappearing in the foaming surf. A lifeguard wandered up and down blowing his whistle to herd straying bathers back between the two fluttering red and yellow flags planted in the sand.

Shay wasn't a beach fanatic. He hadn't grown up within easy reach of sea and sand and it wasn't in his blood the way it was for some of his mates from university. He enjoyed swimming in the restless energy of the salt water but failed at surfing. Careering in on a boogie board was more his style. The surf was too flat here today for the hard-core surfers. The riders coming in tamely further up the beach would be kids and learners; he knew that much about it.

Joelle was probably an expert. He hadn't discovered anything about her away from work activities. She had a fit, trim, golden tanned body topped by that cloud of lovely blonde hair. Swimming and surfing would come naturally to a girl brought up by the sea.

Shay turned his back on the beach. The main street went away at right angles to the seafront on which he stood. The Garden of Earthly Delights was halfway down the second block and the coffee shop was farther. He wouldn't venture in that direction yet, there were plenty of cafes on the esplanade at which to sit and dawdle over coffee. He sauntered to the right. A couple of surf shops with loud thumping music crashing through the doors, a health food eatery, a chemist, a newsagent. He bought a newspaper and continued on his exploration of Sunshine Point.

Two blocks along, almost at the end of the beach, he came to a pedestrian walkway and a cafe with outdoor tables under big white shade umbrellas. Perfect. Shay sat down facing the ocean. A gentle breeze wafted saltiness in and around his nostrils. Seagulls strutted confidently across the sun-warmed concrete paving c.o.c.king their heads hopefully at the other customers. They barely made way for the waitress who came to take his order of coffee and raisin toast.

There was something to be said for living by the sea. Having grown up inland, accustomed to the harshness of country life with the wide blue sky, rolling brown drought-ravaged pastures, dust, towering gums, bushfires, this country along the coast seemed soft and luxuriant. Always green and lush, the vegetation. Easy life here.

The waitress brought his coffee and toast, thick, plump with dried fruit and dripping b.u.t.ter. Kavita would not be impressed despite her allowing him chocolate biscuits. Shay grinned to himself as he imagined her face. b.u.t.ter was on her evil list but he'd grown up with it. When he was very small he remembered a cow living in the paddock across the back fence from the house. His Mum used to milk it. Big dishes of milk sat in the fridge waiting for the cream to rise and form a thick skin to be skimmed off. They'd have fresh cream on top of their apple crumble dessert but Mum churned most of it into b.u.t.ter.

As kids they'd burned off the calories and the fat tearing about on their bikes, riding the horses that belonged to friends from properties out of town, playing tennis, swimming in the river and generally behaving like hooligans. There was no doubt he'd been very, very lucky big Stan Brookes had such a soft heart for a frightened little boy.

A shadow fell across his table. Shay looked up, his mouth full of delicious, b.u.t.tery raisin toast, his mind full of memories. William Paice stood staring down at him with a look of pain and anguish. He held a rolled up rubber mat and wore a floppy white towelling hat, grey track pants and t-shirt.

"Good morning." He made it sound as though the morning was anything but good.

"Good morning." Shay swallowed his mouthful quickly.

"Am I to a.s.sume you're here to see my daughter?"

"Please, sit down," said Shay, conscious of the woman at the next table eyeing them curiously.

Paice hesitated, then dragged a chair from the table. He placed the mat on another chair and waved away the waitress as she approached. He leaned forward.

His eyes bored into Shay's.

"I think you should know," he said, his voice quivering with barely suppressed rage, "That thanks to your ill-judged approach, Joelle has completely the wrong idea about your interest in her."

Shay licked his lips. "I've done nothing that might encourage her to think I may be interested in her in any other way than as a friend," he said, knowing it sounded stiff, awkward and very unconvincing. And it wasn't strictly true. After he knew her ident.i.ty it certainly was but he couldn't deny to himself that initial rush of attraction. From both sides.

"For heaven's sake, Brookes! What's the girl supposed to think with a good-looking young man like you sniffing about?" Paice sat back in tight-lipped fury.

"I told her I wouldn't be seeing her again after that one cup of coffee together."

"And what are you doing here today?"

Shay sighed. He picked up his coffee and replaced it undrunk. "She phoned me," he said. "Last Monday. She's confused by your att.i.tude-yours and Mrs Paice's. I had to admit I'd been to see you. I don't like being implicated in your lie, Mr Paice." It was his turn to glare into the other man's eyes.

Paice ran his hand over his face and emitted a sound resembling a groan. His cheekbones stood out gaunt and angular in a face ravaged by the recent illness and now furrowed by anxiety and uncertainty.

"Does she know?" he asked almost in a whisper.

"No. I think that information has to come from you. I kept my part of our agreement, Mr Paice." Shay leaned forward to emphasise his words, keeping his voice low and private. "It wasn't easy."

The woman was pretending not to watch, but she glanced their way constantly, sucking up potential gossip.

"Thank you for that, at least." Paice leaned back in his chair and stared at the table with blank eyes.

"I never wanted this to cause so much trouble," said Shay. "I never expected..."

"We thought we were doing the right thing," murmured Paice as though he hadn't heard. "Natalie wanted her to feel she was completely ours and vice versa."

"It's obvious she loves you both very much."

A smile flicked on and off but never reached the eyes. "Joelle is an absolute treasure. I never believed I'd love a child so much. I feel no differently about her than my other girls."

"You won't lose her," said Shay.

"Are you sure about that, Dr Brookes?" Paice scooped up his mat. "Meditation is supposed to make things clearer and calm your mind. Teach you to let go." He laughed in a self derisively way. "I mustn't be doing it properly."

"Yoga?" asked Shay.

"Yes, it was recommended after I had the cancer op. Help the body heal itself."

Shay nodded. "Keep at it. There's a lot in that mind/body approach to healing. Our bodies are amazing machines and we don't understand half of what really goes on."

It was Paice's turn to nod. "You didn't answer my original question," he said as he tucked the mat under his arm. Sounding immensely weary now, the intense fury had gone. "Are you here to see my daughter?"

"In a manner of speaking," replied Shay. "I'm here because she insisted I come with her to visit you and get some answers to both our questions."

"And you agreed?" The voice rose again.

Shay regarded him steadily. "I want the same answers, Mr Paice. You forget I've wanted to find my sister my whole life. She's a missing part of me as I am of her. You can't expect me to turn my back on her now when I've finally found her."

The other man's lips tightened in a white line. A muscle flicked in his jaw. He gazed around vacantly at the other customers then his attention swung back to Shay.

"When were you planning to ambush us with this visit?" he asked harshly.

"Joelle said I should meet her when she closes at one and then go straight to you."

"She wasn't even going to warn us?"

Shay shook his head. "I don't know. I told her you'd be angry she became involved in something I insisted was between you and me."

"She's stubborn."

"Yes. I couldn't say no. You must see that."