The Ripple Effect Part 26

"As soon as we can organise the details." He said it with a certain grim satisfaction.

"I didn't think you wanted to move until the end of the year," she said, trying for a light conversational tone when really she wanted to wail in despair.

"If the opportunity is there I have to take it," he said.

"I suppose so."

More kilometres flashed beneath the wheels of the Golf. More brown paddocks. More listless sheep. More gums standing tall and stately. The sun rose higher so they were no longer blinded. Clouds began building in the distance chasing the sun's ascent.

"I won't see you very much," said Joelle as if the half hour silence between comments hadn't existed.

"Probably not," said Shay. "I don't see Lisa and Ben much and I haven't seen Evan for months. Life's like that. We all have our own lives."

He didn't care. His off-hand tone made it all too clear. He couldn't wait for this trip to be over so he could drop her off and get on. He'd accomplished the goal of finding his sister, now he would set his sights on another-moving back to Birrigai. What would be the target after that? Finding a wife? Having children?

"I haven't seen Bridget for nearly a year."

Shay grunted which she took to be some sort of acknowledgement of her remark or, on the other hand, could have been a throat clearing. She wasn't game to ask. His manner was too forbidding. What had happened between them? Again, she was too nervous of this unfamiliar, distant man to ask.

He stopped for a break at the same place they'd stopped on Thursday. Fifteen uncomfortable, tense minutes during which Joelle used the Ladies washroom then joined Shay at a table overlooking the parking area to toy with the froth on her cappuccino and pick at a sandwich. Shay didn't appear to be hungry either. He left half his sandwich uneaten on the plate but drained his cup of coffee.

"I'll go and fill up the car," he said abruptly. "Come out when you're ready."

Joelle watched blankly as he hurried from the cafe. What had she done wrong? Why was he being like this? She took a bite of the soft white bread, lettuce and cheese. A sip of coffee. She really should eat because he probably wouldn't stop again but it was an effort to swallow that mouthful and impossible to contemplate taking another. She drank her coffee instead and bought muesli bars and two apples on the way out.

Ten minutes later, they were on the road again. This highway would join the Pacific Highway soon, the main route along the east coast of Australia. Traffic would be heavier, progress slower, dragging out the journey and the tension to unbearable length. Joelle stared out her window. Came to a decision.

"Have I disappointed you somehow, Shay? Done something wrong?"

He didn't reply for a moment. His jaw tightened. He was gritting his teeth.

Joelle tried again. "Are you sorry you took me to meet your parents?"

"No, no, of course not," he exclaimed, startling her with his vehemence.

"I...I just thought..."

He cut her off.

"You could never disappoint me, Joelle."

The abruptly tender way he said it made her heart turn over in her chest with the very unexpectedness. She waited for him to say more but his jaw took on that rigidity of before and his focus on the road ahead never wavered.

An accident on the outskirts of Sydney had closed two lanes of the freeway. The stop- start crawl added an hour to the journey so they arrived at Shay's Glebe house close to three-thirty. He swung the car into the lane at the rear and pulled up near the garage where Joelle's Beetle waited patiently.

"Would you like to come in?" asked Shay. But it was politeness, she knew. He really didn't want to prolong the experience.

"No, thanks," she said quickly. It seemed to her that he sighed with relief and virtually sprang from the car to unlock the roller door. Joelle opened her door and went to the hatchback to remove her suitcase and the two pots of marmalade Amy had given her.

Shay waited while she stowed the bag on the rear seat of the Beetle. She turned to face him.

"Thank you for...everything, Shay."

She couldn't meet his eyes. If she did she knew she'd cry so she kept her gaze fixed on his shirt front. Surely, this wasn't the end of their closeness. The end of that special relationship they'd forged so quickly. Perhaps the perception of a special bond had all been on her side. The love certainly was, she knew that. She could never tell him how she felt and she certainly couldn't tell him how much she wanted to stay in touch, with the coldness of his gaze upon her.

"Let me know if you hear anything," he said.

She looked up. "Hear anything?"

"About Graysons." He was staring down at her with a blank expression. The sungla.s.ses hid his eyes. She wished he'd take them off so she could see what he was thinking. But...maybe it was better not.

"Oh. Yes, I will."

"Safe trip." She took it as a hint. To leave. She climbed into the driver's seat and stuck the key in the ignition. The engine roared into life.

"Started first go," he remarked. He was standing inside the still open door with one hand resting on the roof of the car.

Joelle smiled faintly. "Marvin never lets me down."

"You named your car?"

"Of course, haven't you?"

He shook his head but the glimmer of a smile broke the grim set of his mouth.

"See you, Shay. I loved meeting your family. Thank you for taking me."

"They loved meeting you." He suddenly leaned down and kissed her cheek, placing his hand lightly on the nape of her neck. His cheek pressed against hers for a moment before he released her.

She was so surprised she couldn't react quickly enough to return the embrace. He stepped away to close the door with a firm click. She wound down the window but he was already moving towards the Golf and she had no choice but to put Marvin in gear and drive out of the garage.

A wonderful smell greeted Joelle when she entered the apartment that evening, lugging her suitcase, tired, hungry and very glad to be home.

"I'm home," she called.

"Hi," Mel popped out of the kitchen. "Perfect timing. Dinner will be about twenty minutes."

"What is it? It smells terrific."

"Just a ca.s.serole. Nothing fancy. I thought you might be hungry."

"I'm starving. I had a cheese sandwich this morning, and a muesli bar and an apple this afternoon. How are you?" Joelle dropped the suitcase at her feet and flexed her fingers. She tossed her handbag onto a dining chair.

"Great."

"You look good." She studied Mel. "You've gained a bit of weight. I never noticed before." She picked up the suitcase.

"I've become very hungry." Mel grinned. She looked extraordinarily happy too. Had she made that phone call at last? She followed Joelle into her bedroom.

"It's good to be back." Joelle unzipped her bag and began unpacking.

"What are you doing?" asked Mel in astonishment. "You've only just walked in the door."

"I like to get this done." She tossed dirty underwear into a pile on the floor. "Here." She handed Mel the two jars of marmalade. "Homemade by Shay's mother."

"What are his parents like?"

Joelle stopped what she was doing. It was an impossible question to answer. She smoothed the unworn blouse she was holding while she thought.

"They're lovely," she said eventually. "Stan's big and cuddly and gruff-just like a big old teddy bear. Amy's short, grey-haired and motherly. They made me feel I was part of the family. Instantly. I could see why they took in Shay. I really like Lisa and Ben. They came specially to meet me. Evan's in the Navy so he couldn't get home. They're an amazing family." Totally inadequate but Mel seemed satisfied.

Joelle went to the cupboard and slipped the blouse onto a hanger. "Stan told me to visit Mum and Dad. He said if I don't I'll become all bitter and twisted." She laughed self-consciously but Mel didn't respond with an answering smile when she glanced at her to seek a reaction. "He said I'd never forgive myself if...something happened to Dad...you know?"

Mel nodded. "We could go over there after dinner," she said tentatively.

"You'd come?"

"Yep. I visited them on Sat.u.r.day and it was okay. Mum was pretty tense at first but you were right, she can't resist a baby."

A slow smile stretched across Joelle's lips. "I'm so glad, Mel. Really glad."

"They want me to move in there."

"Are you going to?" Joelle lifted the last socks from her bag and threw them with the dirty washing. She zipped the suitcase closed and shunted it under her bed.

"I'd rather stay here with you." It was said hopefully and Joelle didn't have the heart to tell her sister a baby wasn't exactly the flatmate she wanted.

"Of course, you can," she said. "But we might have to move somewhere bigger and I'm not sure that balcony is very safe for a crawling baby."

"I don't mean forever," cried Mel. "Heaven forbid. We'd kill each other. I don't want my child to grow up with no Mum because its aunt committed...what is it when you kill your sister?"

"Murder," said Joelle. "How's my dinner coming along? I need a shower. Have I got time?"

"Sure. I'll start the greens."

William was pleased with the results of his diplomacy regarding Melanie. The reconciliation between mother and daughter, awkward at first, had progressed beautifully to the point where Natalie was, if not enthusiastic, at least warming to the idea of a baby joining the family. She even speculated, at breakfast that Easter Monday morning, as to its s.e.x and possible names.

He wasn't sure whether Melanie had contacted the young fellow Luke whose phone number he had pa.s.sed on to her at their first meeting. She'd looked stunned at first when she saw the name on the piece of paper. Then her eyes glowed with tears, which she quickly tried to hide from him. But he saw them and he knew she was filled with hope. He prayed it wasn't a forlorn one. She hadn't mentioned anything since. He didn't want to pry. Their relationship was still too fragile.

"What are you thinking about so seriously?" asked Natalie, interrupting his after-dinner musings. She handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks. Our daughters. I was thinking about our daughters."

"I hope Joelle finds what she is seeking," she said softly. "I miss her."

"Me too."

"Do you think she'll ever forgive us?"

William gazed into her eyes. They seemed larger and more luminous in her pale face, haunted as they were by doubt and sorrow and glistening with a sheen of unshed tears. She hadn't laughed and smiled naturally or spontaneously since her birthday party in March. Now it was almost the end of April. Six weeks.

"I thought she may have come round by now," he admitted. "Brookes thought she would too."

"Perhaps she finds his family more interesting than her own," Natalie said bitterly. "She chose them over us for Easter."

"Darling, don't think like that."

She heaved a vast sigh. William sipped his coffee. Natalie switched on the radio. Brahms flowed into the room, rich and melodic swirling with repressed pa.s.sion.

They listened in silence as the orchestra wafted to the end of the first movement and a lovely solo clarinet melody began the peaceful andante. William closed his eyes and allowed the music to wash over him...

Vaguely he heard sounds at the front door-and voices. Brahms had moved on to the final allegro. He must have nodded off.

Natalie was in the hallway. He heard her exclamation and roused himself, struggling to throw off the vestiges of sleep. Mel. He sat up straight, straining to hear. And...Joelle!

By the time William reached the hall Joelle was wrapped in her mother's arms and both were sobbing. Mel stood by, grinning crazily.

"Joelle," he cried hoa.r.s.ely and she broke free from Natalie's grip to fling herself into his arms.

"Dad," she said over and over into his shoulder. "Dad, I'm so sorry I was mean to you."

"It's all right, darling," he said the way he'd comforted her all her life. He met Natalie's eyes over his daughter's head. She was smiling at last despite the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Mel blew her nose loudly and said, "Come on, guys. I need some food. Got any cake Mum? Preferably chocolate?"

Natalie led them to the kitchen and made fresh coffee. Mel raided the cupboards and the cake tin and came up with half an apple pie, shortbread biscuits and a box of Belgian chocolate truffles.

"Melanie, they're a gift for June Allcourt," scolded Natalie, but William knew she wasn't really annoyed. She was delighted. Their girls were home where they belonged. She placed the coffee pot, mugs, milk and sugar on the table.

"This is a more auspicious occasion than any neighbour's sixty-fifth birthday," declared Melanie, neatly slicing through the cellophane wrapper with a knife. "I'll buy her something else. How about a plant?"

"June's only fifty-four," said Natalie but laughed when Joelle said, "She doesn't look it, she looks years older than you. I would've said sixty, at least."

Melanie handed round the open box. Natalie poured coffee.

William said, "Tell us about Shay's parents, Joelle." He bit into the rich smooth chocolate truffle, careful to keep his expression interested but calm. Joelle selected her own chocolate and ate half before replying.

"They're wonderful people, Dad. In fact, Stan told me I should come and talk to you two. He made me promise." Her cheeks flushed pink but she didn't continue and he wondered what else Stan Brookes had said. Whatever it was it seemed to have broken through a barrier in her mind. One he had found insurmountable. She ate the rest of her truffle and licked chocolate flakes from her fingers.

"Shay's moving back to Birrigai soon," she said.

"Is he?" said Mel. "Really?"

Joelle nodded. "He's always wanted to go back."

"They certainly need doctors in the country areas," put in Natalie. "I read an article just recently about it."

"He's swapping his job in Rozelle with someone at the Medical centre in Birrigai. House and all."