The Ripple Effect Part 23

"I've never seen Dad so overcome," he said. "When he saw you it was as if he'd seen a ghost. You must look exactly like Emily."

"I know. It's weird."

Her voice betrayed her even though she kept striding beside him with her head up and her eyes fixed on the road ahead. How insensitive and stupid...what a lunkhead. Here he was all excited about coming home and expecting Joelle to just slip into place without a murmur, as comfortably as he did. It must be an incredibly emotionally traumatic experience.

Shay touched her arm and she stopped to look up into his face. The gleam of tears and the lost bewildered expression smashed his reserve. Without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, protecting, comforting. She felt wonderful nestled against his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, the freshness of shampoo in his nostrils, her body trembling in his arms.

"I know it's hard for you," he whispered. "But it'll get easier."

She sniffed in answer, the sound m.u.f.fled by his s.h.i.+rt. He stroked her back gently and tried not to be distracted by the curves of her body under his fingers. Her arm stayed hanging by her sides but she didn't attempt to move away. He couldn't release his hold. He'd need a hammer and chisel to prise his arms from her body.

Jedda trotted back wagging his tail, thumping it hard against their legs as he b.u.mped around their stationary bodies.

"Ow." Joelle pulled away. "Jedda!" She bent down quickly to pat his head, effectively hiding her face from view. Shay mustn't see how his embrace affected her. How her eyelids were blinking furiously with the effort of stemming tears and her mouth was quivering from the effort of not blurting out how she felt about him. Patting Jedda prevented her arms clinging to him. Bending prevented her body pressing against his in a very unsisterly fas.h.i.+on. All he'd done was offer a comforting hug and her senses leapt to full alert.

"Stop hitting me," she said unsteadily to the dog who panted and grinned and tried to lick her cheek.

"He's such a con artist," said Shay. "Likes to be the centre of attention." He had no idea. None at all. Thank goodness.

"He's lovely. We never had a dog. Mum doesn't like them." Joelle straightened but kept her face averted.

Shay started strolling again. "We always had one," he said. "First there was Poco. He was small and black and nipped your ankles. I didn't like him much but I was very young and he was getting on a bit. Then there was a blue heeler called Sprocket. Ben loved that dog but he used to fight any other dog that came near him. I thought he was mad. The dog, I mean. You can make your own mind up about Ben."

He snuck a sidelong look at Joelle. Her lips had curved upward and she was watching him with bright, interested eyes. He continued. "Next was Bertha. She was a good dog-half lab, half boxer. She died of old age last year and Mum and Dad got Jedda. He was a stray, Dad found him abandoned. He's good at that." Shay smiled.

"What happened to mad Sprocket?" asked Joelle returning the smile.

"Got run over in the main street."

"Ooh."

"Yeah, I know. It was sad. Ben was terribly upset. We had a burial service for him. He's got a plaque in the back yard. I'll show you later if you like. Poco's there too. And Bertha."

"There's a dog graveyard in the back garden?" Her eyes opened wide.

Shay nodded. "Couple of cats as well."

"Goodness," was all she said. He tried to imagine Natalie presiding over a pet burial ceremony. Difficult. William perhaps...

They turned into the main street-busier because it was also the highway-taking to the footpath that was rough underfoot and partially overgrown with honeysuckle escaping from the house on the corner.

"Mrs James doesn't believe in pruning." Shay held dangling vines aside for Joelle to pa.s.s. The branches of a prunus plum hung low dropping a thick carpet of deep red leaves underfoot.

"Do you know everyone in town?"

"Used to. Although there are all those new houses now, so not any more. When I start working here again I will."

"When are you starting work here?"

"I'm not sure. I always planned to come back. I was going to talk to Olive tonight about a vacancy at the Centre or somewhere nearby. She knows everything. I thought, vaguely, by the end of the year."

"Oh. But then I won't see you much at all," she said.

"No, but then you have your own plans, don't you? Travel and things?"

"Yes, I suppose. I thought..."

Joelle walked in silence. The daydreams of Shay being a fixture in her life began to crumble. Loving him and not being able to admit it was one thing-if he remained accessible. Loving him, not being able to admit it and rarely seeing him was another thing altogether. She'd shrivel up and die. The thought made her catch her breath and stop walking.

Shay turned. "What's up?"

"Uh, nothing." Joelle stared around at the wide-open sky for inspiration. Two galahs were sitting nuzzling each other on the powerlines. Half a dozen more flew in to join them. "Just watching those birds," she said at random.

"The galahs?"

"They're so cheeky, aren't they?" She set off walking again.

"c.o.c.kies are my favourites," said Shay. They reached the first of the shops, the Post Office, newsagent, chemist all rolled into one. "Need anything?" he asked.

"No. Let's have a look at Betsy's menu."

They wandered next door and studied the neatly printed menu taped to the window. Usual for a city restaurant but rather exotic fare, Joelle imagined, for a country town, but Betsy had some alarmingly inviting cakes on display.

Shay waved a greeting to two women seated at an inside table drinking tea. They waved then the two heads leaned together in animated conversation with occasional furtive glances at Joelle. The grapevine was in full swing.

"This looks pretty good," said Joelle. "I'd like to take your parents out to dinner."

"We may have to make it lunch. She's closed tomorrow and Sunday, and Ben and Lisa will be here Sat.u.r.day."

They walked on. More cars, battered dust-covered utes and small trucks were parked outside the pub now.

"Want to go in?" asked Shay. "Meet some of the locals? It's after five, most of the regulars will be coming in."

"Love to," she said.

The building was one storey, with a low overhanging roof shading the front and old-fas.h.i.+oned advertis.e.m.e.nts for breweries featuring sportsmen, now sought after as valuable antiques, on either side of the door. Elegant gold lettering on the frosted gla.s.s announced *Public Bar'. Shay pushed the door open and the smell of beer mixed with that indefinable odour peculiar to country pubs punched Joelle on the nose. She rarely ventured into places like this at home. Here it would be the main source of social interaction.

Rock music blared from an overhead TV screen, joining the roar of voices from the large room. Tables and chairs were spread about; some occupied by couples but most of the clientele, mostly jeans-clad males, stood at the bar.

"Shay, me old mate," yelled someone. The general noise level dropped immediately, amplified by the fact that the TV jukebox was between songs.

"G'day, Wayne," called Shay and headed for a group of three men and a blonde woman in the middle of the crowd. A chorus of greetings followed.

Joelle trailed behind Shay, acutely conscious of a barrage of curious, a.s.sessing eyes upon her. A new woman in town. Obviously from the city. Young. No wonder these tough, working, country men were fascinated. It was common knowledge there was a shortage of eligible women out here. She smiled and sunburned faces relaxed and grinned back. Conversations resumed, the noise level rose again.

Shay began shaking hands vigorously. The woman kissed his cheek and gazed into his face for a long moment before stepping back. Joelle stood quietly waiting to be acknowledged. He belonged here. She, acutely, felt she didn't.

Shay was greeting someone he was obviously amazed to see-a thickset, red-haired freckled man with twinkling pale blue eyes.

"Alan, What are you doing here?" Backs were enthusiastically slapped. Joelle waited, smiling.

The woman's eyes were upon her with a curious intensity bordering on hostile. She had a thin face, and large teeth emerged when she suddenly turned her head and opened her mouth to smile at Shay and Alan. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s struggled to escape from a tight black top, which failed to reach the waistband of her jeans by several centimetres.

"And who's this?" asked Wayne. Piercing blue eyes under a thatch of black hair gave Joelle the once over with more than a degree of interest.

Her cheeks warmed as every other pair of eyes in the group did the same as Wayne's.

"Oh, sorry." Shay clasped Joelle's hand and pulled her forward but before he could continue with the introduction, Wayne went on.

"Much prettier than the last one, mate. G'day gorgeous. Wayne." He thrust out his hand. Joelle shook it. How many girls did Shay bring home from the city to meet his parents? Had this woman with the fierce eyes been one of them. Or did she want to be?

"Marty," said the brown haired chunky man next to him, grasping her hand and squeezing. "Don't waste your time with this bloke. He's not the man for you. What can I get you to drink?" He placed an arm casually over her shoulders and began drawing her away from Shay.

"For G.o.d's sake, leave the girl alone, you lech," said the woman. "Don't mind him," she said to Joelle. "He's like all the blokes around her-s.e.x-starved and when you look at them it's not surprising. Hi, I'm Kylie."

Joelle smiled uncertainly. The woman's words were friendly but the tone was brittle and her green eyes said otherwise. She was a cat sizing up a rival.

"Not Shay, though," she continued. "He can have any girl he wants. And does."

She edged closer to him and her pink painted lips pouted s.e.xily as she tucked her arm into his. Shay looked down at her with a faint grin as the group erupted with a chorus of indignant protests and laughter.

Joelle's stomach twisted into a tight little knot. Impossible to tell if Kylie spoke from experience or not.

"This is Joelle," Shay announced loudly. "My sister."

Silence. The rest of the bar patrons turned curious faces their way. Joelle remembered with a surge of hot embarra.s.sment that everyone would know the story and those who didn't, soon would.

"Your sister? You mean? Your sister? That sister?" Wayne's face had such a look of total and utter amazement Joelle giggled explosively. Shay caught her eye and grinned. Kylie just gaped. Marty's arm fell from Joelle's shoulders as he stepped back to stare at her critically.

"Nice try, mate," he said. "But no banana. She doesn't look anything like you. You're an ugly b.a.s.t.a.r.d for starters."

"She is," insisted Shay. To Joelle's immense relief the surrounding crowd lost interest and returned to their drinks and conversations. The TV launched into a country rock tune featuring a man with a black hat on a horse.

"Are you?" asked Wayne s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his eyes fiercely as though interrogating her.

Joelle nodded. "Apparently."

"Well, I'd say you must be," he announced. "Shay would never pa.s.s up a shot at a girl this pretty unless he had a good reason."

"And that's a b.l.o.o.d.y good reason," added Marty. "There is a G.o.d after all. What are you drinking? Beer, Shay?" Shay nodded. "Joelle?"

Kylie was smiling now. The suspicion had left her expression along with the resemblance to a Brunnhilde ready to do battle. Definitely a girlfriend, either ex or on the prowl.

"Nothing, thanks," said Joelle. "I'm floating in tea." That knot in her stomach eased slightly. Shay hadn't ever mentioned Kylie. If she were significant, surely he would have.

Marty signalled the bartender.

"Welcome to Birrigai, Joelle," said the remaining man. He held out his hand, smiling. "Alan."

"I've known Alan and Marty since we were kids," said Shay. "Haven't seen Alan for years. He's gained himself a wife and baby son since I saw him last. Wow, mate." Shay shook his head, laughing softly.

"I live in Brisbane," said Alan to Joelle. "I've come back with the family to visit the folks for Easter."

"Did you let that bull out?" asked Joelle.

Alan burst out laughing. "You promised!" he said to Shay. "We swore oaths never to tell a soul."

"Didn't you ever tell?" demanded Shay.

"Certainly not."

"Was that you two?" said Marty turning from the bar. "My Dad was furious. That bull was his prize breeder. I bet Jack was in on it, too."

"Yep," said Shay.

"Jeez, it was funny though. Old Beryl's fence." Alan laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink.

"Not to mention her language," said Shay.

Marty thrust a full gla.s.s into Shay's hand. "Welcome back, mate. Good to see you. You too, Joelle." All four raised their gla.s.ses and clinked with Shay's.

"Tell us how you found Joelle." Wayne had a thin face with high angular cheekbones. His light blue s.h.i.+rt had a company logo on the breast pocket-Allied Feeds. "He always told us he'd find his little sister," he said to Joelle. "He's a persistent b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"I'm glad he is," she replied.

Shay proceeded to give a summary of his search, omitting to Joelle's relief, details of her shock and that of her parents.

"So now we want to find our father or fathers, if that's the case," he finished.

"You've got to have different fathers," stated Marty. "Look at you."

"That's what we think, too," said Joelle. She began to outline the search method. Alan made the same comment as Amy. They would only cover half the family by writing to Graysons.

"We've tried ads," said Shay. "And we don't have any other names to go with."

"You ought to try asking about the district. Putting up flyers or something. Got any photos of your mother?" asked Marty.

"No. But anyone in the area would have known about it for years."

"Not necessarily," put in Kylie. "It was a long time ago and those bushfires caused a lot of disruption from what I've heard. They were the worst fires for ages. People had other things on their minds."

Alan drained his gla.s.s. "Like a drink now, Joelle?"

"Yes please. Can I have white wine, Alan.? And where's the Ladies?"

"Through that door." Kylie pointed towards the far corner. "I'll come with you."

Joelle threaded her way between the drinkers. More people had crowded in since she and Shay had arrived. It seemed everyone stopped in after work for a drink and a catch up at the pub. The young single men came in from the surrounding properties to relax and perhaps have dinner. A blackboard menu over the bar announced the three meals available that day. Basic and nouris.h.i.+ng. Nothing fancy. She wondered if Betsy would snare a corner of the market. Judging by the crowd in here it would be hard work to tempt them away from roast beef and vegies to grilled Creole chicken breast with couscous or eggplant frittata and rocket salad.