The Other Side of Us - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,12

the time he’d completed a tour of the small store, he still hadn’t located the nails and he gave in and approached the elderly man behind the counter.

“If you’re looking for sandbags, we’re all out, sorry,” the salesclerk said before Oliver could open his mouth.

“I guess it’s just as well I’m looking for nails, then,” Oliver said, more than a little bemused by the man’s opening gambit.

“What sort?”

“I’m repairing a fence.”

“You’ll want bullet heads, then.”

Oliver followed the man to the far corner of the store and selected a carton of nails.

“Had a run on sandbags today, have you?” he asked as they returned to the counter, more to make conversation than out of real curiosity.

“People having conniptions over the weather report. Bloody drama queens, those people in at the weather bureau. Storm will probably pass out over the water and not even touch us. Same as usual.” The clerk shook his head, clearly unimpressed with modern science.

“Is there a storm warning?” Oliver glanced out the window. Sure enough, the sky had grown even more forbidding since he’d left the house.

“So they say. Probably worth clearing out your gutters and downpipes, but I wouldn’t go blowing up your water wings just yet.” The old man laughed at his own joke.

“Thanks for the tip.”

Oliver switched on the radio when he got to the car and scanned through the frequencies until he found a weather report. Sure enough, they were predicting heavy rain for the southern part of the Mornington Peninsula, with warnings of flash flooding and high winds.

Awesome. Was it just him, or was Flinders really rolling out the welcome mat? A rude neighbor, a decrepit fence and now imminent flooding. And it was only day two.

Since the rain was holding off, he decided to finish the fence repairs. Strudel kept him company, sniffing around his feet and generally getting in the way. Twice he had to push her aside when he was nailing a board in place. He was about to put her in the house to save both her and his sanity when she trotted off into the garden.

“Smartest thing you’ve done all day,” he muttered.

It wasn’t until he’d finished repairing the second-last hole that it occurred to him to wonder where she’d gone. He tucked his hammer into his tool belt and went looking. He spotted her the moment he rounded the shed. More accurately, he spotted them. As in plural. As in, two dogs, one silhouette.

“Hey!” he yelled, outraged.

He’d let Strudel out of his sight for five minutes and Doggy Juan from next door had taken advantage. Unbelievable.

Neither Strudel nor Mr. Smith paid him any attention, the two of them being very occupied with being humped and humping, respectively. Oliver searched for the garden hose. It took him half a minute to find it, and by the time he’d dragged it across the lawn Mr. Smith had finished and was simply standing beside Strudel, panting and looking pretty bloody pleased with himself.

“Don’t grin at me, mate. You’re in big trouble.”

“Mr. Smith? Smitty? Here, boy. Mama’s got a bone for you.”

Mackenzie’s voice floated over from her yard. Oliver scooped up her miscreant dog and strode to the fence. Holding the dog under his arm, he gripped the top of the fence and stepped on the cross rail so he could see into her yard.

“He’s here. Again.”

Mackenzie stood on the deck, once again dressed in expensive-looking workout gear. She frowned when she saw Mr. Smith in his arms.

“I didn’t realize—”

“No kidding.”

He waited until she’d crossed to the fence before lowering the dog into her arms.

“You might want to keep him inside until the fence is secure. Since he doesn’t seem good at taking no for an answer.”

She smoothed a hand over her dog’s head. “Sorry?”

“I just caught him humping Strudel.”

“Oh.” She had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Yeah.” He was aware that he sounded like an outraged parent. Frankly, he felt like one. Strudel was barely eighteen months old. Still a puppy, really. She wasn’t in the market for the kind of adults-only behavior Mr. Smith had dished out so enthusiastically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he was out.”

“You said that.”

Her eyebrows rose as she picked up on his tone. “I know that technically he shouldn’t have been on your side of the fence, but they’re only following their natural instincts. There’s no need to get all prissy about it.”

Prissy? Where did she get off calling him prissy after she’d shut her door in his face not once but twice and then

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