The Ripple Effect Part 11

Reluctantly, Paice nodded. He stood up. "I'd better go home and warn Natalie." He turned, took a couple of steps then spun about and came back. "I don't suppose you would consider leaving without meeting her?"

Shay shook his head slowly. "I don't think she would let that pa.s.s, Mr Paice. She'd want to know why and she has my surgery number."

William stared into Shay's eyes for a long moment. The realisation of defeat was clear, the fear of losing the love of his treasured Joelle, the fear of admitting to her the lie.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Mr Paice made no acknowledgement. He turned and wandered away down the pedestrian concourse. Shay watched the forlorn elderly figure clutching the blue yoga mat, until the white hat disappeared in the crowd.

His coffee was lukewarm. His raisin toast unfinished with the b.u.t.ter congealing slowly. He opened the newspaper, but his eyes skimming the black and white pattern of print and the coloured photos deciphered nothing.

Perhaps he should leave. The Paice's had been a very happy family until he came blundering in with his a.s.sumption of a G.o.d-given right to claim his sister. His parents and Olive had warned him but he wouldn't listen.

But what about Joelle? What would she think if he just failed to appear? She wasn't the sort of girl to let it slide. She'd keep picking away at her parents and she'd phone him again at the surgery with more questions which this time he'd be very hard pressed to answer.

d.a.m.n William and Natalie Paice. They should have told her years ago. What the h.e.l.l were they thinking? Shay folded the paper into a tight wad and left it on the table, then strode into the cafe and paid. He needed to walk and think. It was noon. He had one hour to decide what to do.

William had no idea how he was going to tell Natalie what was in store for them this afternoon. Should he call in to the shop and try to dissuade Joelle from pursuing the matter? He dismissed that notion almost immediately as serving no purpose. Causing a scene in her workplace wasn't the right approach. He knew his girl well enough to know Brookes was accurate in his a.s.sessment. She wouldn't be fobbed off.

He walked in a kind of daze, threading his way through the languid Sat.u.r.day crowds, pausing to cross the road, moving forward when the pedestrian lights changed to green, his mind writhing with slippery eel-like words and phrases. Words he knew, however they were arranged, would become as vicious and violent as any physical attack when spoken to Natalie.

She had to understand it was time to face up to the mistake they'd made. They needed to believe the job they'd done of raising Joelle would prove resistant to the coming strain, that her love was resilient. That theirs was unconditional.

William stopped. His feet had taken him to his car without any conscious effort. He unlocked the door and threw his mat on to the rear seat with a measure of mild surprise that he'd reached his destination on autopilot. He glanced at the dashboard clock. If Joelle and Brookes came straight from the shop at one o'clock, he had about one hour in which to prepare Natalie.

She was nowhere to be seen when he entered the cool of the house via the back door. He dumped his towelling hat and mat in the laundry as he pa.s.sed.

"I'm home," he called.

"In here," came the reply from the depths of the house.

Natalie emerged from the bathroom wearing yellow rubber gloves and holding cleaning equipment. "How was your cla.s.s?"

"I don't know whether my body is designed to bend in the directions yoga requires," he said.

"It will make you more flexible."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"I like something more vigorous at the gym, you know that." She pulled off the rubber gloves one by one. "Lunch is salad. Ready in five minutes."

"All right," said William. "I shall go and mess up your nice clean bathroom by was.h.i.+ng in it."

Natalie kissed his cheek as she pa.s.sed. "A woman's work is never done."

When William returned, Natalie had plates and dishes on the table along with a pitcher of chilled water. She poured him a gla.s.s as he took his place, and began spooning tabouli on to her plate.

"I saw an advertis.e.m.e.nt in the paper this morning for a Persian carpet sale. You know? One of those warehouse ones? I thought perhaps we could go this afternoon and see what they have. To replace the hall runner. It wasn't a good buy that one we've got, was it? It's already wearing thin. Too cheap. Good ones last decades."

Natalie looked at him with raised eyebrows waiting for his response. Since his recovery she'd put the idea of his possibly premature death from her mind. He knew she did it deliberately, this planning and talk of the future-the purchase of a carpet which would last fifty years when he may only last one or two. If she didn't acknowledge that fact it might go away.

He didn't care about hall runners. Other things were more important.

William said, "Joelle is coming this afternoon to see us."

"Oh, did you see her in town?"

He licked his lips. "No, I didn't see her, I saw Shay Brookes."

"Ah mon dieu," she whispered. Only in moments of extreme duress did she lapse into her native language. Her hand flew to her mouth. "But...is he coming here too? After we asked him not to?"

Despite her shock, her relatively subdued reaction encouraged William to say, "They're coming to see us together. We can't hide from it any more, darling. We have to tell her the truth."

None of the fireworks he'd expected had ensued. Perhaps she'd come to the same realisation he had but she gave one last despairing throw.

"It's too late."

William shook his head. "It's too late not to tell her. We must."

"She'll hate us."

"She might for a time but she won't in the long term. We're her family. She knows we love her and we know she loves us."

"Are you convinced of that, William?"

"Yes," he said hoping he sounded more definite than he felt. "We must stick together and keep our cool whatever she says. We mustn't become angry and we must try to explain to her why we kept this a secret for so long."

Natalie took a sip of water. William cut a piece of cheese and ate it although he had rarely felt less like eating. His stomach had turned to a solid lump of concrete. He wanted Natalie to think he was confident and unconcerned about the coming trial. He took a slice of bread and began building a sandwich of cold beef, lettuce and tomato, concentrating hard to counteract his weak and shaking fingers.

Try to explain? Why on earth had they kept the secret for so long? Why had Natalie always so vehemently opposed telling Joelle of her origins?

At one twenty five, Joelle walked with Shay up the front steps of her parents' house. The hairs on her neck p.r.i.c.kled, but she couldn't see anyone watching through the big front windows. Anyway, they didn't know she was coming and they certainly wouldn't expect Shay to be with her. Good thing they were home. She hadn't thought of that minor detail until too late, until she'd been sitting rigid with nervous excitement beside Shay in his car. Hadn't considered the possibility that they might be out.

Dad had his yoga cla.s.s in the morning. They didn't go out much on Sat.u.r.days. They said the Point was too crowded at weekends and they preferred shopping during the week. It was a fairly safe bet they'd be home.

Shay was even better looking second time around. There was always the chance that on second viewing an attractive man would develop one or two deficiencies initially overlooked-a weak chin, large ears, squinty eyes, too short, too skinny, unattractive hands, unwashed hair. Shay had none of those defects. Shay had perfectly formed ears, eyes, chin and hands. His body was plain gorgeous and this time he'd worn jeans and a t-s.h.i.+rt which moulded themselves to muscular thighs and shoulders. His arms had a sprinkling of dark hairs on brown skin, he smelled good and his hair shone in the sun.

Sigh. Love at first, second and every ensuing sight.

Joelle pulled her key from her bag and allowed her arm to brush Shay's. He moved aside smartly and said, "Sorry."

She smiled up into his face making sure she caught his eyes. "No problem."

Why was he being so ultra polite and careful? Surely he'd got the message loud and clear? She couldn't be much more obvious short of jumping on him and kissing him. Any other guy would have sent her a few message received signs by now. Was he shy? Maybe he wasn't sure of himself around women. No, he'd been flirty enough when they first met. In that case...

Joelle paused before inserting the key in the door. "Shay, after we do this would you like to have dinner with me tonight? At my place? I'm a pretty good cook."

She moved a tad closer gazing up into his eyes and gently pouting her lips. She saw a flash of desire almost immediately extinguished. Shay looked down at her, his lips very close and very inviting.

"Maybe," he murmured. "We'll see what happens here first."

He couldn't back away because of a potted c.u.mquat by the door. He glanced over her shoulder and then down into her eyes again. He licked his lips and cleared his throat.

"They won't eat you," she said, joking. She studied his face, puzzled now. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened on his brow. He was nervous, naturally so, she supposed. But more than that he seemed tense almost to the point of fear. Why on earth would an intelligent, handsome, self a.s.sured man like Shay be frightened of speaking to her parents again?

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." She placed her palm gently against his cheek and raised herself on her toes to brush her mouth lightly across his.

Chapter 6.

His reaction was startling, shocking and humiliating in the extreme.

"No," he cried and thrust her away so hard she almost fell.

"Whaaat?" Joelle crashed into the matching c.u.mquat with tears of shame and hurt flooding her eyes. She struggled to her feet, staring at Shay, who was staring back at her with an expression of profound shock.

The door opened.

"h.e.l.lo J..." Her father stopped mid word, his surprised face taking stock of her hot face, watery eyes and floundering stance. His gaze swung to Shay and despite her totally bewildered state it was obvious to her that her father wasn't at all surprised to see him. In fact, it seemed he wasn't surprised to see either of them, almost as if he expected this visit.

"h.e.l.lo Dad," she said. "You know Shay already, don't you?"

The two men eyed each other briefly before Shay extended his hand.

"h.e.l.lo, Mr Paice."

"h.e.l.lo." Her father gave Shay's hand a brief, perfunctory shake. "Come in," he said. "It's hot out here."

He led them into the living room where her mother sat stiffly on the couch. Her eyes would have been on them as they arrived. She would have seen them park and get out of the car. Had she seen her daughter make a complete fool of herself? Joelle threw a quick glance towards the window. From her mother's angle, doubtful.

"Hi Mum," she said. "You know Shay already."

Her mother nodded towards Shay but didn't offer her hand and neither did Shay move towards her. He murmured a greeting and stood with his hands hanging by his sides. No-one appeared to notice her hot cheeks.

Her father said, "Please sit down, Doctor Brookes. Can we offer you a drink?"

"No, thank you." Shay sat opposite her mother, forward on the seat with his back straight.

It was all extraordinarily formal but then, Joelle supposed, this was a formal sort of occasion. The other three were tense to the point of rigor mortis and Shay appeared to be still in shock from her kiss. She'd never had that effect on a man before. No way was she doing unsolicited kissing again, not even of the comforting variety the way she'd intended that to be. He hadn't even glanced her way since. His attention was focussed on her parents. Something else was happening here. Something she knew nothing about.

No-one said a word.

"What's going on?" she blurted.

Shay and her mother looked at William. Joelle's stomach dropped. "You're frightening me," she said. "Dad, Mum. Say something. You know about Shay's missing sister, don't you?"

Her father cleared his throat. Her mother clutched his hand tightly.

Joelle stared from one to the other. "You have to tell him." Her voice quivered slightly. She swallowed.

Shay spoke first. "Joelle," he said. "Let me tell you about myself and the day my sister was born."

"You told me," she said. "Your poor mother died giving birth."

"Yes, she did. I was about fifteen months old. No-one knows my birthday exactly because my mother died without telling anyone anything about herself or me. I don't know who my father is. Stan Brookes, my adoptive father, picked us up on the roadside. He said my mother was already in labour. The town was in the middle of a bushfire crisis, smoke everywhere, cinders flying about and the Medical Centre was packed with people. Doctor Jenny did the best she could but my mother was only seventeen and the birth was a difficult one. She died of a ma.s.sive haemorrhage. I know now there was nothing Jenny could have done with the facilities they had back then."

A m.u.f.fled sob interrupted his quiet voice. Tears were streaming down her mother's face. Joelle bit her lip gently, returned her gaze to Shay.

"Stan took me home and his wife Amy took care of me. I was lucky." He smiled faintly. "They liked me and decided to adopt me. They already had three kids so Amy said another little tyke wouldn't make any difference. I asked her once why they didn't take both of us but she said she couldn't cope with a newborn baby as well, plus the house wasn't really big enough."

"And your baby sister?" Joelle asked.

"She was cared for by Doctor Jenny and Olive, she's the nurse-she's still there, by the way. Olive took her to Sydney to a special hospital for children."

"The Madeleine Wright Children's Hospital in Chatswood," whispered her mother.

"How do you know that?" Joelle whipped her head around. Both parents were gazing at her with the strangest expressions she'd ever seen. Apprehension mixed with sadness coupled with a stern determination she found completely unnerving.

"Because," said William in a firm voice, "That's where we collected you from when you were two weeks old."

"Was I sick?" she asked. Why else would she be in a special children's hospital?

"No, you weren't sick," said Shay. "I saw your chart, you were an extremely healthy baby."

"My chart? You saw my chart?" Joelle stared wildly from one concerned face to the other. "I don't understand. What are you saying? For G.o.d's sake someone tell me what you mean?" She leapt to her feet.

"It means," said her father, "That we adopted you and you are Shay's missing sister."

"Adopted me?" Joelle sat down abruptly as her knees collapsed. "Mum?" she whispered gazing desperately at her mother. "That's impossible, isn't it? You didn't. What about Bridget and Melanie? They're not adopted." A huge sob worked its way up from deep in her chest and burst out in a gasping, choking cry.

Her mother darted across and knelt before her. She grabbed Joelle's hands in hers and held tightly. "No they're not adopted. Just you. We thought I couldn't have babies so we registered to adopt and you came along. We called you Joelle because you brought us so much joy."

Joelle gazed into her mother's tear-stained face. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her gaze s.h.i.+fted to her father sitting so pale and silent on the couch. "You lied to me all these years."

"You were our baby," her mother cried.

Her father said, "We adored you. You were our own."

Her mother broke in, the words jumbled and almost inaudible through her tears, "I wanted a child so...much...and you were...tiny when they called us. I always thought of you as my baby...my baby girl."

"But I wasn't," said Joelle. She turned to Shay in wonder. "You're my brother."