Part 18 (1/2)
William followed the cat's route along the garden path to the street. The cat was sitting plumply by the fence, watching him with yellow eyes. He stood for a moment with the sun warm on his back, thinking. Where would Mel go? Not to her lover, obviously. Who were her friends? Shamefully, he didn't know, not really. Mel walked by herself. Like the cat.
But she needed help now.
Of course. The obvious place. Joelle. William sat in his car for some time pondering his next move. Should he ring her apartment? He could do that while Jo was at work. If Mel was there she'd answer, if she wasn't he'd get the machine. He could leave a message. Or he could go to Thirroul and knock on the door.
William didn't think either he or Joelle were ready to face each other yet. Today was only Monday, two days after the earthquake. She had to be ready. He thought Brookes was right about that aspect. He had to be ready, too. As for Natalie...well...William turned the key in the ignition.
Natalie was at Dr Thorpe's today. Job-sharing half days with a young mother had worked perfectly all around. Usually Cheryl did Monday mornings but this week she'd asked Nat to switch-which was fine. It meant she couldn't stay home and mope, but she'd been so distracted this morning he didn't trust her to drive herself to work. He hoped the office routine would give her some semblance of normalcy to cling to.
The engine roared into life. The radio came on with the announcer cheerily telling everyone it was sixteen minutes past noon. Nearly time to pick Natalie up so any visiting or phoning would have to wait until tomorrow. He wouldn't tell her Mel had disappeared, Natalie was still in the angry stage-far from forgiveness and reconciliation. She'd say she didn't care which wouldn't be true at all. She'd say Mel had to sort herself out and she'd be furious William had been to her house.
The events were beginning to bear an eerie and frightening resemblance to those surrounding Joelle's poor young mother. He and Natalie had unthinkingly and ultimately, selfishly, pushed their daughter away when she'd come to them most needing their a.s.sistance. So cruel.
At least Joelle had promised to take care of her. But would Mel accept that care? Those two had never been very close. William rubbed a hand across his eyes as a lone tear forced its way through his lids.
He must repair the rift with one daughter before it became as vast and complicated an issue as with the other. He must take decisive action this time. Soon.
Chapter 9.
”Look,” called Melanie as soon as Joelle walked through the door on Friday evening.
Joelle looked. Mel was sitting at the table, pen in hand, contemplating an untidy pile of white, addressed envelopes, a box of unused envelopes, a stack of paper which appeared to be copies of the letter Shay had emailed and another few sheets of paper with tightly printed lists. Names and addresses photocopied from the phone book, Joelle realised as she peered more closely. Graysons. With half the names in one column crossed off. The piles of envelopes, addressed in Mel's handwriting, all to Sydney residents.
”Shay's doing the Queensland ones,” Mel said. ”You can help me, now. We should do all of NSW.”
”Where did you get all the names?” Shay and Mel must have been in constant communication. By-pa.s.sing her even though she and Shay had spoken just last night. She'd seen the letter he'd composed, of course, but apart from that the Grayson search had steamed ahead without her.
”I went to the post office and asked if I could photocopy the relevant pages.”
”And they let you?”
”The guy who works there is cute,” Mel said casually. ”He took them out the back and did it for me.”
”He probably thought you'd tear the pages out if he didn't,” said Joelle.
”I would've.” Mel grinned. ”It's taken me ages to get this organised, Joey. Now I'm getting writer's cramp.” She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. Her interlaced finger joints crackled and popped. ”Sorry, know you hate it when I do that.” She grimaced and lowered her arms.
Joelle hadn't even noticed the cracking knuckle sound, so consumed was she by the facts before her eyes, but she swallowed her instinctive burst of protective jealousy. Shay was a free agent. They were all working towards the same goal and Mel was doing her best to help. She really was. Joelle smiled. What a change in her little sister.
”Thanks Mel. That's fantastic. How many Graysons are there, do you think?”
Joelle picked up the photocopied pages and skimmed the names. One of them may be a relative. More than one. A staggering thought. She sat down on the chair Mel had been using.
”Hundreds, I'd say, by the time we cover the state. What about ads in the papers? We should put something in the major dailies in the cities, I reckon.”
”I thought of that too. We can easily do it online.”
Mel went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. ”Drink?” she called.
”Juice, please.”
Mel came back with two gla.s.ses filled with orange juice.
”No beer?” Joelle raised an eyebrow and smiled.
”Dr Ceely gave me some leaflets to read and I've been to the library, too.” Mel indicated a stack of books on the next dining chair. Joelle took the top one off the pile.
”*Your Baby and You',” she read. ”*How to give your baby the best start in life.' Sounds good.”
”One of them's got photos of the baby inside its mother at all the different stages. It's wild. I'm fourteen weeks now. Look.” Mel found the book and flipped through until she reached the page she wanted.
”Oh, wow,” exclaimed Joelle. ”So your baby looks like this? Amazing.”
”Isn't it?” Mel sat down with s.h.i.+ning eyes. Joelle watched her face as she pored over the photo of the amorphous little blob, only vaguely discernible as a new human being. One hand unconsciously moved to her abdomen and rubbed gently as though already caressing her child.
”You'll be a wonderful mother, Mel,” she murmured. ”Boy or girl, do you think?”
”I want a boy,” Mel said decisively. ”Life's easier for boys.”
”I don't know about that,” objected Joelle. ”Shay's life hasn't been any easier than mine. Surely it depends on heaps of other things.”
”Boys don't get pregnant.”
No arguing with that but... ”Remember what Shay said, though, about needing a father? Men love their children just as much as mothers do and most of them want to help care for them.” Joelle hesitated, decided. Added, ”Given the chance.”
Mel sighed and leaned back in her chair. She closed the book. ”You think I should tell him.”
”I think he deserves to know. What Shay said is true. Not knowing who your parents are is terrible. It may not worry some people of course, but imagine when your child finds out you deliberately kept his father from him. The way I did.”
”I don't know where he is,” said Mel softly. ”He's a guitar player in a band.”
”Was it a one night stand?” Mel, the groupie? Surely not. Surely she had more self respect than that.
”No. I'm not that easy, Jo,” Mel retorted with a resurgence of the old scoffing disdain for her sister's opinions.
”Sorry. Well, why don't you know where he is?”
”His band tours a lot and I lost his mobile phone number-actually I deleted it. They went up north for six weeks and just before they left we had a great big fight.”
”And he didn't know you were pregnant.”
”No. Neither did I.”
”When's he due back?”
”About last week.”