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He began talking marriage almost immediately but Mel wasn't sufficiently softened by pregnancy to go that far yet and Joelle, in principle, agreed. *Marry in haste, repent at leisure' sprang to mind.
Not that she knew anything about it.
A proposal would not be coming Joelle's way in the near future that was for sure. Even her new brother didn't want to talk to her. She hadn't heard a peep out of him for over a month-not since their trip to Birrigai. His parents were another matter. Amy phoned regularly but she'd been quiet recently. In her last call she'd said the proposed job swap had fallen through.
Joelle didn't know whether to be pleased Shay would be in Sydney for longer or sad that he hadn't bothered to pa.s.s the news on to her himself.
Mel stood up. "I have to pee," she said and went inside. The phone rang. "I'll get it," she called.
"Is it all right for Mel to stay with you until I get back?" asked Luke.
"Of course it is. She's my sister." Mel's voice was too m.u.f.fled for Joelle to catch any clue as to who had rung.
"I'm sorry to keep asking but I feel she's my responsibility now. Both of them."
"Luke," said Joelle. "Shut up."
"And thanks for letting me stay too. I won't be here much longer ..."
"Luke!" Joelle glared at him and he grinned.
"Sorry. I'm not used to being made welcome, I guess."
"Why not?"
"The way I look?" He shrugged. "My parents didn't care much one way or the other about us kids. You guys are lucky."
"Yes." Supremely lucky.
"I really want to do the right thing by Mel, Jo," he said earnestly. "I love her."
"I know you do. She's changed a lot lately. She really wants this baby. I wasn't sure at first but now..."
Mel stood in the doorway. Joelle stopped quickly before the inevitable, angry *Were you talking about me?'
"Who was on the phone?"
"Shay. I invited him for dinner."
"What?" Joelle jerked upright.
"He'll be here in ten minutes."
"What?" Paralysis set in.
"Your brother?" asked Luke. "Cool. I've been wanting to meet him."
"He said he has some news but he wouldn't tell me what." Mel stepped out of the way as Joelle launched herself off her chair as though ejecting from a plunging aircraft.
"Why didn't you call me?" she demanded as she charged into the living room. Mel followed.
"He didn't want to talk to you. Well, he does but not on the phone." Joelle's infuriating little sister eyed her curiously. "He'll be here in a minute. Calm down."
"I am calm." Joelle raced to her bedroom and studied herself in the mirror. What a mess.
"No you're not; you're flapping about like a headless chook."
"I am not!"
Mel rolled her eyes and withdrew, shaking her head. "Good thing we've done plenty of spag bol sauce. I'll make the salad, shall I? And start the pasta water?"
"Yes," yelled Joelle from under her t-shirt as she wrenched it over her head. She flung the cupboard doors open and stared blindly at the contents. Why was he coming here with hardly any notice? What news? About Emily? It must be. What else did they have in common?
Joelle slumped on to the bed holding a white blouse in her hand. That was the problem-it must be. They had nothing in common beyond their parentage. She couldn't expect Shay to be fascinated by her life and to call her all the time. Why would he be interested in a florist's business any more than she was interested in his patients? Absolutely nothing kept them together. Siblings were like that.
Look at her sisters. They didn't live in each other's pockets and when Mel moved in with Luke they'd create their own life too. Why should her relationship with Shay be any different?
She had to get over this ridiculous and debilitating infatuation and when he arrived tonight, she must treat him no differently to Luke.
Joelle pushed her arms through the sleeves of the blouse and fastened the small pearl b.u.t.tons. She stood up and tucked the bottom into her jeans, ran a brush through her hair and touched lipstick to her mouth. Then she wiped it off with a frown. She never wore lipstick at home. Shay was her brother. Get a grip!
When she entered the kitchen Mel had finished making a big bowl of green salad and Luke had cleared the table. The pasta was already in a big saucepan of bubbling water.
"Shall I make garlic bread?" asked Joelle brightly.
"Yes. Love some," said Luke. "Put plenty of garlic."
Joelle busied herself with bread, b.u.t.ter and the garlic crusher. Mel set the table.
"I haven't seen Shay for ages," she said happily. "He's going to be surprised when he sees the b.u.mp."
"The guy's a doctor, Mel. He's sure to have seen a preggers lady before," said Luke. "Another gla.s.s of vino, Joelle?"
"Yes, please." Dutch courage.
The doorbell rang. Joelle froze. Her hands were in the garlic, all stinky and messy. "Get it, someone," she said weakly. She bent her head low so they didn't see the flush on her cheeks.
"Sure." Luke strode to the door.
Then he was there, smiling in through the kitchen doorway as handsome and desirable as ever with those gorgeous brown eyes and that little quirk to his lips. As unattainable as ever. Untouchable.
"h.e.l.lo." He walked forward and kissed her cheek.
"Hi. I'm all garlicky."
Joelle held her hands up and grimaced to cover the violence of the trembling his touch had ignited. He didn't look at her messy hands, he didn't look at anything but her eyes. He invaded her. She looked away with cheeks burning and p.r.i.c.kly sweat itching all over like crawling ants.
"Hi Shay." Mel darted around the bench to hug him and bestow a kiss on his cheek. "Look at me. Meet the b.u.mp."
Shay grinned as he stepped back to admire the bulge. "Looking good. How are you?"
"Super duper. Shay, this is Luke. He's the proud father."
Shay thrust out his hand. "Congratulations, mate."
"Thanks." Luke slid his arm around Mel. "She's looking great, isn't she?"
"Absolutely. Even better now you're here."
"Like a drink? Joelle and I are on the red. Mel's on the OJ."
"Boring OJ," put in Mel.
"Red's fine. Thanks."
"Come and sit down and tell us the news," said Mel. Luke poured Shay a gla.s.s of wine from the bottle on the bench.
"This will be ready in a couple of minutes. Shouldn't we eat first?" said Joelle swiftly. Hadn't Shay come to see her? Wasn't his news for her alone? Not Mel and Luke. Surely she could expect some privacy if this was about her own mother.
Shay threw her an uncertain look. She knew her face had a.s.sumed a hard, closed expression but she couldn't help it.
Mel started, "But Shay can..."
"Mel," said Luke, "maybe it's private. Maybe Shay wants to talk to Joelle alone."
"Do you?" she demanded. By the amazed look that concept was completely foreign.
"Well..." said Shay. Joelle opened the top cupboard for a colander. Her back was turned, her face deliberately hidden so they couldn't read the emotions which would be played out so clearly whichever answer he gave. "Sort of...not really, I suppose."
"See?" said Mel triumphantly. "He can tell us over dinner."
Joelle firmed her mouth and concentrated on rinsing the pasta under hot water.
"Come and help me serve," she said.
"Eat first, talk later," said Luke. "Sit down, mate."
Mel and Luke cleared the dirty dishes after the meal and Mel started making coffee. Joelle sat rigidly in her seat. She'd barely eaten. Her throat had clamped shut. Shay sat opposite staring directly at her with such an intense expression she began to be fearful of what he might say, although she had no idea what that could possibly be. He hadn't even hinted at his news while they ate.
Perhaps he was trying to guess what she was thinking. She wasn't thinking anything, she was too surprised by his sudden appearance to put two coherent thoughts together. She stared at the tablecloth with its familiar pattern of tiny yellow flowers.
"It's about Emily," he said.
Joelle flicked a glance across the table. His eyes burned her. She was glad now that Mel and Luke were here to dilute the tension.
"Have you found some rellos?" asked Mel from the kitchen. "I've had b.u.g.g.e.r all response to my letters. Not a b.l.o.o.d.y sausage. I thought..."
Joelle clutched her gla.s.s of wine like a life preserver.
"What about Emily?" she asked cutting across Mel's chatter abruptly.
"A man answered one of my ads."
"He knew her?" asked Mel.
"Pipe down, Mel," Luke said sternly.
Shay nodded but didn't turn his head. "He did know her. Not very well as it turned out. His wife did. She grew up across the road from Emily in Toowoomba. They were best friends."
Joelle sat riveted to her seat. Her eyes wouldn't leave Shay's face now. His had never left hers.
"Emily fell pregnant to a student, a foreign student from somewhere in Europe. Your father," he said. "Northern Europe I'd say by the look of you. He cleared out and left her. Went home."
"Was he your father too?" Joelle could barely speak.
"No, not mine. My father is Andrew Nolan. The man who called me."
"Whaa-a-t?" Joelle's brain refused to process what he'd told her. Something wasn't right. "But you said he didn't know Emily. His wife did."
"That's right," said Shay.
"Emily's not your mother," blurted Mel.
"No. My mother was Megan Nolan. She was the woman who died in the fires. Remember I told you people had been killed that day? A woman and her baby were thought to have died in a place called Toolac. I was that baby and I didn't die. Emily saved me. Everyone a.s.sumed we were mother and son but we weren't. I'm John Nolan."
"Emily saved you," breathed Joelle. John Nolan? Not Shay.
"And you. She saved us both. She was a very brave girl. My mother sent her and me away to safety, we think, but Emily got lost."
"You've met this man, your father?" asked Joelle. "That's where you've been," she added under her breath.
"We had a DNA test done to make quite sure. I didn't want to tell you until I knew definitely."
"Shay's not your brother," said Mel in a choking voice. "You're not related at all."
"Come on, Mel, we're going to the movies," put in Luke.
"But..."
"Now."
Joelle barely heard them leave. Disbelief, shock, confusion. She'd lost her new brother. She'd lost her real family completely. They truly had nothing in common. Shay wasn't her brother. They'd been facing this new world of hers together but what could bind him to her now?
Shay wasn't her brother. There was no one whose blood was her blood. Joelle rose from her chair and moved to the sliding door opening onto the balcony. It was dark outside. She pulled the door open letting the fresh night air bring sensation to her numbed brain. Lights twinkled from neighbouring houses and a steady stream of moving dots glowed from the highway over by the ocean. They disappeared as the road curved behind a rise then the travelling string of light emerged further south. Like a living thing blindly following a predetermined path.
Shay had risen when she did. She moved like a zombie. He stood behind her on the balcony. Silently. Waiting for her reaction, trying to judge what she was thinking and feeling. Would she come to the realisation as he had? Would it mean anything at all to her beyond the obvious? Would it enter her head? Invade her body with a delicious awareness?
They weren't related.