All They Need - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,56

with his body and hands for a full day and he had a new respect for Mel after watching her toil alongside the men without once letting up. As the time edged toward five-thirty he began to wonder when, exactly, the apparently indefatigable Porters were going to call it quits. He heaved a silent sigh of relief when her father dug his shovel into the garden bed with an air of finality.

“Right, that’s it. It’s getting dark and cold and I need food,” Mike said.

No one was about to argue. Between the five of them they returned Mel’s tools to the shed, then Mel ushered them all into her kitchen and distributed beers. Harry sat back in his chair and made an appreciative sound as he swallowed his first mouthful. Flynn had to agree that an ice cold beer had never tasted quite so good before, probably because he knew he’d bloody well earned it.

“Okay, dinner is on me. Fish and chips. Who wants what?” Mel asked.

She had a notepad in hand and a smudge of dirt on her cheek. He watched in amusement as she proceeded to decipher the barrage of requests from her family before finally fixing her gaze on him.

“What’s the burger situation like?” he asked.

“Good fish-and-chip-shop standard, verging on very good at times.”

“Hook me up with one of those, then, thanks. And a couple of dim sims.”

“Fried or steamed?”

“Fried. Of course.”

“I knew you were all right,” Harry said as he downed the last of his beer.

Mel made a couple of phone calls, and twenty minutes and a round of beers later their food arrived, delivered by Val, and a woman who looked so much like her that she could only be Mel’s sister, Justine, and two little boys.

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,