The Ripple Effect Part 21

He finally turned to go, changed his mind. "I'm making tea. Do you want toast or eggs? Cereal?"

"Tea and cereal will do, thanks. I'll have a shower."

"I'd like to be on the road by seven," he said.

"Don't worry. I don't take long to get ready."

He grinned. "Sorry."

Joelle said, "If you keep standing there watching I'll never be ready by seven."

"Sorry." He grimaced and pulled the door closed. She heard his feet thudding down the stairs and smiled as she swung bare legs out of the bed.

"We can stop for coffee in Maitland," suggested Shay two hours later. The run out of the city had been relatively quick with most of the early commuter traffic heading in the opposite direction. Now they were bowling along the freeway towards Newcastle.

"Yes, please," said Joelle. "I haven't been up that way before. I mean I've been north past Newcastle but never inland."

"I've driven it so many times I could do it in my sleep."

"Please don't."

Shay laughed. With her beside him he didn't care how boring the road or how long the trip. "Stop, revive, survive," he intoned.

"Exactly."

"That's why we're stopping in Maitland," he said. "You have been this way, though, in reverse." He glanced at her as he spoke to see her reaction.

Joelle frowned. "No."

"Yes, when Olive brought you to Sydney."

"Oh, yes." The frown remained in place as she struggled with that fact. "I still can't get my head around it properly. That I'm not who I thought I was."

"You'll always be you. Names are just labels." He wondered if it were true as he spoke. Did he believe that himself?

Joelle pondered the concept. "They don't know your real name, do they?" she said suddenly. Shay swallowed. He hadn't really properly addressed that issue. His name was Shay Brookes and despite his teasing grumbles to Amy about his first name, he'd never considered being called anything else.

"It doesn't worry me. I always knew my mother's surname was Grayson but Shay is my name."

"What if we discover one day that Emily had named you something else-Rupert, for example?" said Joelle with an innocent smile.

"Rupert?" Shay grimaced.

"I like that name," she said. "I'm going to call my first son Rupert."

"Poor kid."

Joelle laughed. "What about Nigel? Yuk. You might be called Nigel or Kevin."

"I'll stick with Shay, thank you."

"What's she like? Olive," asked Joelle a few minutes later.

"Tough as old boots on the outside, soft as mush on the inside."

Joelle smiled. "That's why she called me Claire. It's such a pretty name."

"It's French like Joelle. It's a pretty name, too." Shay kept his eyes on the road, but he could tell by the sudden quiet that the oblique reference to her mother had cast a shadow over the conversation that had flowed casually and naturally since breakfast.

They'd swapped the cars over, parking the Golf in the street and the Beetle in Shay's lock-up garage accessed by the narrow lane at the rear of the row of terraces. Shay had loaded their two cases in the car, checked the house was secure and with Joelle chatting comfortably by his side, set off for Birrigai.

The talk had ranged far and wide, from Sydney living to foreign travel to music, movies, food and now, names. He'd deliberately kept from asking if she'd made any attempt at reconciliation, figuring she'd mention it herself if it happened. She hadn't and it was obvious that she wasn't going to.

"How's Mel?" he asked, to cover the awkwardness. His own, if not hers.

"Fine. She's doing well at the shop."

"Surprised?"

"A bit."

"Has she mentioned anything more about the father?"

"Not really. I think she loves him, whoever it is, but they seem to have had an irreconcilable split."

"Is there such a thing?" asked Shay without thinking. "I wonder. Most problems can be sorted out if people talk honestly with each other." d.a.m.n. The words just slipped out. She'd think he was deliberately poking at her and criticising when in reality he'd give anything to effect a reconciliation.

"Sometimes," said Joelle tightly. "There's a complete breakdown of trust."

"I know." Shay hesitated knowing he was treading warily through a minefield of his own making. "That's where forgiveness comes in. And listening to the other person."

That came out all wrong. Joelle erupted. "Don't you think I'm listening to my-to William and Natalie? Believe me, I listened, and it came through loud and clear. You were there, you heard."

"Yes but I also heard the regret and the plea for forgiveness. Everyone makes mistakes, Joelle." His voice rose in frustration, as much at his own inadequacy as at her stubbornness.

She hissed air in between what sounded like clenched teeth and Shay turned his head quickly to s.n.a.t.c.h a glance at her. Gone was the giggling, teasing girl. Joelle's eyes had narrowed and she spoke in a tight, hard voice when she said, "You think I'm the one in the wrong, don't you? I don't believe this. You think I'm the one who should be apologising to them."

"No, what they did was a mistake but you have to look at why, why they acted the way they did," Shay insisted. "They loved you; they didn't think anyone would claim you."

"But they knew about you," cried Joelle.

"I suppose, yes," Shay admitted. "But they don't deserve to be punished for loving you too much."

"They kept me from you."

"Yes. But I found you." He tried a tiny smile but as a mood lightener, it had no effect.

"So you think it doesn't matter they tried to stop you seeing me?" She was almost shouting now. "You're on their side. How can you possibly be on their side against me?"

"No I'm not, I'm not on anyone's side." Shay desperately tried to hold on, stay calm, not be drawn into what was escalating into a ridiculous, pointless argument. "There are no *sides'. That's crazy," he muttered.

"It's easy for you, you know who you are."

"No," he broke in loudly, patience stretched to breaking point. "No. I don't know who I am because like you I don't know who my father is. I just deal with it without becoming hysterical."

Shay flexed his fingers on the steering wheel and glared through the windscreen at the freeway rushing beneath the car. Joelle crossed her arms and stared out her side window. When he glanced across all he could see was a flurry of gold blonde hair and a firmly turned back.

He readjusted his sungla.s.ses. Tall gums towered on either side of the road, dappling the sunlight in a strobe light effect. Suddenly the thick trees vanished and they were whizzing through green pastureland dotted with grazing cows.

"Look," said Shay. "All I'm saying is, I understand how you feel but I also understand how William and Natalie feel and I think you should try to understand as well."

"You have no idea how I feel," snapped Joelle, still with her head averted. "If you did you wouldn't say what you just said."

Shay decided his best option was to keep his mouth firmly closed and his foot on the accelerator.

The remainder of the journey pa.s.sed in an atmosphere of strained politeness. Joelle made no comment when Shay drove straight through Maitland as he usually did when going to Birrigai alone. Those trips he only stopped for petrol or a toilet break, preferring to barrel on and get home as fast as he could. This time he'd planned on stretching out the drive into a more leisurely expedition. Having Joelle captive in the car was a treat he'd looked forward to eagerly and so had she, he knew. Now, with resentment and anger infusing the air with tension he wanted to get her into the mollifying aura of his parents as soon as possible. Amy would calm her down and no-one stayed angry in Stan's presence for long.

Joelle would understand very quickly, why he didn't feel the same way about his adoption as she did. Why he was content with the family he had, particularly now it was complete with the discovery of his sister. He'd never wasted much energy speculating about his father, accepting the man would never be found. Emily's relatives were another matter. They were a definite possibility but he was in no rush. One new relative at a time.

"Can we stop soon, please. I need to go to the loo." Joelle's quiet request jerked him back to the present uncomfortable situation "Sure. Next place we come to," he said. "About ten minutes. We can have a cup of coffee. Stretch our legs."

"All right."

Subdued and almost silent. Shay hoped this wasn't an indication of a sulky nature hitherto unseen. She'd been so chatty and bubbly when they started out. Couldn't she see he only wanted her happiness? How could she twist his remarks round so that he became almost an enemy? Women's logic escaped him completely sometimes. He released a stream of air in a long sigh. Joelle glanced his way but said nothing.

On the home run now. This stretch of countryside never changed. Brown, undulating pastureland, scattered gumtrees, the occasional group of sheep wandering aimlessly or just standing. Mile after mile of it. A person who'd grown up out here developed patience and resilience. The vastness of the sky, the emptiness of the landscape, the natural rhythm of the seasons, the harshness and cruelty-you either rolled with it, adapted and learned to love it regardless, or fought it. Those who fought usually lost.

Shay was more than relieved when the Birrigai town sign flashed by. Although Joelle had been civil during the journey, the underlying tension remained, destroying the closeness of last night and this morning and revealing just how fragile and illusory that closeness really was. He'd imagined it. She was a stranger. A woman whose deepest emotions had been savaged by the people she loved most. A woman he'd grown to love and whose security he'd been instrumental in destroying.

The slowing of the car and the cl.u.s.ter of new houses on the outskirts made Joelle sit up straight and peer out the window with renewed interest. He thought she'd been asleep for the last hour but maybe she'd just opted for closed eyes in preference to making conversation.

"Another five minutes," he ventured.

"You must be tired," she said and he took it as a tentative conciliatory gesture.

"A bit."

He slowed the Golf to the required 60 kph speed limit as they entered the town proper along the tree-lined main street. The Fraser's had painted their roof since he'd been here last. About time. Next door old Wal Cooper was sitting having a smoke on his front porch. He stared through thick gla.s.ses as Shay waved but obviously didn't recognise the newcomer. Wal had never been able to see further than his front gate, anyway.

The road had a couple of new potholes just near the pub in the middle of town. Five or six cars were parked angled rear-in to the deep gutters. A young woman he didn't recognise came out of the general store carrying a baby. Must be from one of the new places they'd pa.s.sed on the way in.

Pretty quiet, as usual, for mid-afternoon. The primary school would let out in about twenty minutes and then things would change. Kids would flock to the store exactly the way he and his mates had done all those years ago. They'd be excited kids today, looking forward to the Easter break.

He noticed Joelle watching everything, fascinated. Her eyes darted here and there, as she twisted her head about to take in everything she could. What was she thinking? That Birrigai was a dump? A dead end, one horse town fit only for losers and no-hopers?

"Typical country town," Shay said, hearing himself sound almost apologetic. "A pub, cafe, general store, primary school, stock and station agent, garage, police station, community hall...hey, that's new!"

He slowed the car even more as they pa.s.sed a restaurant called *Betsy's' stuck in between the Birrigai and District Stock and Station Agency and the Post Office which doubled as newsagent and chemist shop. The name, painted in arty blue lettering on the window and with a blackboard menu on the footpath. Another sign promised Arts and Craft.

"Looks very trendy," commented Joelle. "We should try it." No sarcasm. She really did seem interested.

"Sure."

"Where's the Medical Centre?" she asked.

"Straight on and down to the right. Birrigai only has three streets."

"Where was Emily found?"

"Out along Roberts Road. That's another kilometre further on this road over the bridge and then left. Dad will take you out there if you like. Show you the exact spot."

"Do you know where it is?"

Shay nodded. "I had a mate who lived on Roberts Road. We used to ride past it all the time on our bikes."

Shay slowed and turned left down the street his parents had lived in all his life and longer. Neat white or cream painted weatherboard houses faced each other across the narrow strip of tar. Gardens struggled in the dry soil but careful tending with recycled house water meant most had a show of autumn flowering colour. Rough gra.s.s edged the roadway instead of kerbs and gutters. Big old gums stood on the nature strips. Front fences kept out stray animals and dirt or gravel driveways lead to the homes.

He turned into number eight. Jedda gave a deep-throated woof from the wide veranda and stood up waving his tail regally.

Joelle smiled. "Who's that?"

"Jedda." The front door opened and Amy rushed out, beaming with delight.

"And that's Mum," added Shay.

Joelle unclicked her seat belt as a slim, grey-haired woman ran down the steps and across the gra.s.s towards them. She wore jeans and a white t-shirt with the Sydney Olympics logo on it. Her feet were thrust into brown leather sandals, which slapped and flapped as she moved. Joelle's stomach contracted and her hand froze on the door handle. What if Shay's mother didn't like her? What if...

"Come on," said Shay. His door was already open and he leaped out straight into the arms of his mother. She only came up to his chin as she hugged him. Short she might be but not timid. She was busily remonstrating with Shay about leaving his sister in the car. The dog had trundled down the steps and joined in the welcome with a couple of excited barks.

Shay released his mother, patted Jedda and turned to beckon to Joelle. Amy rushed around to her door and the smile on her face wiped any doubts from Joelle's mind about her welcome. She pushed the door wide and got out, feeling her joints complain after the long stretch of sitting.

"h.e.l.lo, darling," Amy cried. Tanned skin crinkled about her eyes and mouth as she beamed. She wore no make-up but her round face shone with health and happiness under the pageboy cap of silver grey hair.

"h.e.l.lo." Joelle smiled, uncertain as to whether a hug or kiss or shaking hands was in order but Amy solved that by grabbing her in a fierce embrace coupled with a resounding kiss on the cheek.

"You've no idea how excited I've-we've-been to meet you. Stan's even more excited than I am." Amy sniffed and Joelle was amazed to see tears gathering in the blue eyes. "And Olive, of course. She'll be here later. For dinner. She can't wait either but she's on duty at the Medical Centre or she'd be here now."

"Oh I'm...I...I had no idea." Joelle looked helplessly at Shay who stood smiling happily, watching. "You didn't tell me..."

Jedda stuck his damp nose into Joelle's hand and she rubbed his velvety ears, relieved at the distraction. "h.e.l.lo Jedda." He licked her fingers.

"What? That people would be pleased to meet you?" Shay strode to the rear of the car and flung open the hatch to retrieve their bags. He grinned as he swung them out. "Of course, they are."

"You were about the only good thing to come out of those terrible fires," said Amy. She tucked her arm into Joelle's and began leading her to the house. "Get out of the way, Jed." The dog grinned up at them.

"And my Shay," she added. "He was my gift. Now come in and have a cuppa and freshen up. I've just this minute taken a batch of scones out of the oven. You timed it perfectly." She squeezed Joelle's arm. "He always managed to do that when food was involved."

Shay laughed behind them. "Mum's a great cook, that's why," he said.