Trish
Shirley
Moana's Song
Janey Ryan smoothed her long brown hair back, and pushed her glasses further up her nose. She wished, for the millionth time, that she was blond and cute, with perfect blue eyes that didn’t need glasses, like her younger sister Emily, and her baby brother Jackson. She wished that she was Steve Larson’s actual, oldest daughter; and not just the half-sister, with a loser for a father.
Janey hadn’t seen Mitch Ryan, her biological father, for years. She wondered if she’d recognize him, when she got off the bus. It seemed unlikely, given that she didn’t even have a photo of him, and she’d been really little when she’d last seen him. Still, there couldn’t be that many fathers waiting for their daughters at the Oamaru bus stop. She wished she could have gone with Steve’s parents, while her mother had the treatment. They’d been willing enough to take their own grandchildren, but they’d made it clear, in the nicest possible way, that there was only room for two. And of course, they wanted their two.
That was the thing about being the half-sister. You were never allowed to say it, Janey thought, but you never really belonged anywhere. She stepped off the bus.
 
Half an hour later, the bus had gone, and Janey was close to tears. She hadn’t ex-pected it to be great, coming here, but she’d thought at least someone would have cared enough to come and collect her. She looked at the numbers on her cell-phone, and wondered who to ring. They were all Dunedin numbers. She bit her lip, and put the phone away. Just then, there was a screech of brakes, and a dusty little red hatchback pulled up adjacent to the bus stop. A large, untidy woman got out and headed briskly in her direction. “Janey Ryan? Sorry I’m late! I got the time wrong; your father rang me in a huge panic… gosh, I’d know you anywhere, girl. You’re the spitting image of him…’and Janey found herself clasped in a hearty embrace. ‘It’s so good to see you…you were only this big, last time;’ she put her hand out at knee height. ‘You probably don’t remember me; I’m your Auntie Giselle, your father’s sister.’

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