Authors: Elisabeth Rose
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 casserole. 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 Saturday 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 sex and possible names.
He wasn’t sure whether Melanie had contacted the young fellow Luke whose phone number he had passed 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 passion.
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 hoarsely 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.”
“That was lucky for him.” She was making a tremendous effort to remain detached and positive when it was obvious, at least to him, she was heartbroken. But then, he knew how she felt about the man. She’d confided in him that first time they’d discussed her new friend—before she knew the truth. She’d been happy and excited, maybe falling in love. He’d been deeply disturbed and apprehensive. Sharp, jagged edges of rocks loomed ahead.
It was staggering the effect their lie by omission had had down through the years. A tidal wave, a tsunami, gathering momentum and power the further it travelled through time until it crashed with devastating force upon the innocent and unsuspecting victims. Fortunately, Joelle had proven compassionate and strong. She’d weathered the onslaught. But they could hardly claim the credit for that.
“I’m so sorry, Joelle,” William blurted, surprising her so that her hand stopped, poised over the box of chocolates. She withdrew her arm slowly. Her tongue ran across her lower lip. Her clear blue eyes met his, filled with nothing but forgiveness and love. An unbearable weight rose from his chest.
“It’s okay now, Dad. I think I understand why you didn’t tell me. But…” She dragged her gaze from William to Natalie and then Melanie. “Does anyone else have any secrets we should know?” A smile teased the corners of her mouth and her eyebrows lifted as she swivelled her eyes from one to the other. “I don’t.”
“I don’t,” said William returning the smile. “All my dirty secrets are out and flapping in the breeze.”
Melanie said abruptly, “I’ve decided I’m going to call Luke.” To Natalie’s blank face she added, “He’s the father of my baby.”
Natalie clapped her hands together. “Thank goodness, Melanie. He should know about his child. You must bring him to meet us.”
“I’ll see how he takes the news first,” said Melanie dryly.
“He’ll be pleased,” said Joelle firmly. “You said yourself he wanted to settle down together.”
“I hope so.” But Mel’s mouth trembled as she grinned with her usual bravado
William’s heart melted. His tough, hard-talking, free-wheeling daughter had not only softened but was actively reaching out for assistance. And she’d found a job she enjoyed—thanks to Joelle. Now she was making an eminently mature decision.
William sat back, sipping his coffee, listening to his girls cheerfully discussing babies and pregnancy. At least he’d got this right. He could claim credit not only for the reuniting of Melanie with Natalie but also for the forthcoming reunion of Mel and Luke.
Then Joelle, out of the general babble of babies and birthing methods, asked, “Mum, why were you so opposed to telling me I was adopted?”
William’s eyes flashed to Natalie’s face. He opened his mouth to reply for her but thought better of it. This was her truth to tell, he couldn’t answer for her any longer and he wanted to know the real reason, too. There was one; suddenly he was positive of it.
Natalie stared at her hands loosely clasped on the table before her. The knuckles grew white and her shoulders tensed under her soft blue jumper.
When she began to speak, it was softly, as if she were talking to herself. The first words emerged tentative and unsure, dragged from the murky depths of a memory long hidden.
“My father was a violent man,” she said. “He hit my mother and he hit me sometimes.”
The girls gasped in unison but neither said a word. William waited in shocked silence. Natalie had never told him much about her childhood. He’d never met those French parents who died in the car crash while their daughter was in Sydney.
“No-one would have believed it of him because he had a senior position in the town council and was well respected and liked. When I was eighteen, I had a boyfriend I loved very much. We planned to marry but my father didn’t like him—his name was Raoul.” Her eyes were soft with remembering, her face transported by first love. Her thumb rubbed ceaselessly over the wedding ring on her finger.
“My father said he wasn’t good enough for his daughter because he wasn’t well educated. He was a mechanic and he had a job but that wasn’t enough.” Her mouth twisted in anguish. “Anyway—I became pregnant. We wanted to elope and get married but Raoul was…killed…on his motorcycle. A car…hit him.”
She stopped and a tear threaded its way down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly and sniffed, laughing self-consciously. She glanced at the girls quickly and then away. “So many years ago. Silly to cry now.”
“No, it’s not,” whispered Joelle. “What happened?” She clutched Natalie’s hands in her own. William edged his chair closer leaning in towards his wife, his love.
“My father discovered I was pregnant and he hit me. I fell and lost my baby. When I recovered, I left Lyons to stay with a friend in England. I didn’t think I could have children after that.”
“But you did,” said Melanie.
“Darling, why didn’t you tell me any of this?” asked William. Here was the source of the ripples. Her father—casting the original stone, setting the whole thing in motion with his violence and his desire to control.
Natalie reached a hand towards him and he held it tightly. “Because I was ashamed,” she whispered. Her eyes clung to his. “And when I was beginning to love you I didn’t want you to think I was…a tramp.”
“I’d never think anything of the sort.”
“It was in the past,” she said. “Forgotten. My old life.”
But it wasn’t forgotten. The ripples travelled silently through calm waters until they struck an obstacle.
Natalie turned to Joelle. “When I held you in my arms it was as though I held the baby I had lost. You were mine. No-one else was going to claim you, I knew that. You became my baby. And your father’s.” She smiled at William with the smile he had loved from the first moment he saw her. “Babiey’s are so precious. They are treasures. This is why, Melanie, I was angry with you for falling pregnant with no care for your child and its future. As if you didn’t care.”
“I care now, Mum,” Mel said in a more subdued tone than William had heard from her for many years.