All They Need(57)

Introductions were performed over the rustle of fish and chips being unwrapped and the booty portioned out. Flynn learned that the taller, skinnier boy was Eddy and the younger, wide-eyed boy was Rex, and that Mel’s sister was not going to be as easily won over as her mother, if her coolly assessing glance was anything to go by.

There was much laughter as they ate, most of it in response to the constant one-upmanship Harry and Mel seemed to thrive on. Flynn guessed that Justine was naturally the quieter of the three siblings, but after a while she loosened up and started to toss the occasional comment into the mix. Val and Mike played umpire, laughing readily when they inevitably became the butt of the joke, while Jacob kept up a sly, clever commentary that was so dry Flynn sometimes almost missed the laugh.

It was a noisy, informal, relaxed meal, a far cry from the dinners he usually shared with his parents. He knew from comments his mother had made from time to time that they’d never intended for him to be an only child, but luck had not been on their side. Sitting around Mel’s crowded kitchen table, he couldn’t help thinking that there was a lot to be said for a large family.

For starters, he’d have someone to talk to about his parents without having to worry that he was boring or overburdening them. Someone who was as invested as he was, someone he could trust implicitly.

The thought killed some of his buzz and he sat back and slid his half-finished beer onto the table. His thoughts circled to this morning’s meeting and suddenly the room seemed too crowded, too noisy, too filled with stories and memories that he didn’t understand or share.

A warm hand landed on his knee and he glanced up to find Mel leaning toward him.

“I meant to ask, are you staying at the house? Because you’re welcome to one of the cottages tonight.”

Her gaze was steady, and he could feel the warmth from her hand clear through to his bones.

“I hadn’t given it much thought, to be honest. I guess I’ll stay at Summerlea. Don’t really fancy the drive to Melbourne tonight.”

“Stay here. You’ll have a proper bed and central heating. The last thing you want to do is have to build a fire and crawl into your sleeping bag after the day we’ve had.”

“Sleeping bag? Who’s sleeping in a sleeping bag?” Val asked.

Mel’s gaze was apologetic as it met his and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I haven’t got any furniture yet,” Flynn explained. “I’ve been camping out in the living room until I get something sorted.”

“Then Mel’s right. You should stay here.” Val said it as though it was set in stone, a high priestess handing down an edict.

“That’s it, Mom’s spoken. No turning back now,” Justine said with mock solemnity.

Flynn decided to let it ride for the moment. In truth, he quite enjoyed camping out at Summerlea. It gave the endeavor a boy’s-own-adventure feel that helped distract him from the enormity of the job he’d undertaken and offered him a very delineated break from his life in the city.

It wasn’t long before it became clear that the youngest members of the family were heading toward cranky territory.

“Bedtime for you, my little friends,” Justine announced to her squabbling boys. “Time for us to go.”

It quickly became a mass exodus. Flynn shook hands with all the men and kissed Mel’s sister and her mother goodbye, then he was alone in the kitchen, surrounded by silence as Mel walked her family to their cars.

He glanced at the mess they’d made and began clearing the table, stacking plates and screwing the paper from the fish and chips into a tight ball. The dishwasher was full of clean dishes, so he left the stacked plates and glasses on the draining board and wiped the table.

He paused to check out the series of photographs stuck to the fridge door—a picture of Rex and Eddy, another of Val and Mike, a couple of postcards from various places in Europe. Just visible behind one of them was a shot of Mel in a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a tank top. Her hair was a wild spill around her shoulders, her face creased with laughter. Harry stood next to her sporting rock-god long hair, one arm looped around her shoulders.

Flynn’s gaze traveled over Mel’s long, muscular legs before finding her face. She had such a great smile. Like her laughter, it held nothing back, shouting to the world that she was open and accessible. Although the latter was probably more an illusion these days than reality. At thirty-one, Mel was far more battle-hardened than the girl in the photograph.