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“We must have had ninety-nine percent of the game. It was the other three percent that cost us the match.”
Ruud Gullit, former Dutch national soccer player
Abby was entrenched in hell. After another sleepless night where she tossed and turned with worry, she had the pleasure of her sister’s company again for morning tea. She was holding on to her sanity by a hair, waiting for Katy to say something that would seal their fate. There was no way she’d make it through another five days of this. She wasn’t even sure she’d make it to lunch.
When the doorbell rang, Abby was busy serving tea for her unwanted guests. At least Lawrence was pleasant—when he wasn’t giving Victoria looks of disapproval. Although Abby appreciated his effort on her part, it didn’t do anything to lighten the tension in the air.
“I’ll get it.” Katy ran to open the door, and a moment later, she came back trailing Flynn behind her.
Abby froze, teapot angled as she poured for Lawrence. It was a miracle she didn’t pass out on the spot. The chances of someone saying the wrong thing had just doubled. She couldn’t monitor Katy and Flynn. She had to get rid of him. Now.
Katy cocked a thumb over her shoulder at Flynn, in a move stolen from Matt. “I told him he wasn’t allowed in here, but he says he is. Is that right, Muma? Are we letting him in now, or is he telling big hairy fibs?” She glared back at Flynn, who bugged his eyes out at her.
A hand on her arm brought Abby’s attention back to the tea. Lawrence smiled up at her. His cup had overflowed, leaving him with a saucer of tea.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Abby said, “let me get you another one.”
“How about I deal with the tea and you deal with your guest?” Lawrence stood, taking the overflowing cup and saucer with him.
Abby smiled with fake gratitude. She didn’t want to deal with her guest. She didn’t want to deal with any of her guests. What she did want to do was tell them all to go to hell then slam the door shut behind them.
“Flynn,” she said through a clenched-teeth smile. “What brings you here, of all places you could be right now that aren’t here?” Okay, not very subtle. It was still better than screaming the place down. So, it was a win.
“I came to introduce myself to your lovely sister and her friend. I’m just being a good neighbour.” Flynn’s grin was pure charm. It dazzled. She squinted at his mouth. Were those teeth artificially whitened? She shook her head.
“How lovely. I know how busy you are. It’s kind of you to fit us in—especially when you have that thing you need to get to this morning. Remember the urgent business you told me about. The business you have to do right now. Away from here.” Abby silently communicated, using telepathy, bug eyes and thinned lips that he’d damn well better invent a pressing engagement toot sweet. He seemed not to get the message. Instead he turned to her sister.
“Doesn’t look like Abby wants to introduce us.” He flashed a charming smile. “I’m Flynn Boyle.” He held out a hand to Victoria.
“I’m sorry,” Abby said in a tone clearly revealing she wasn’t. “This is my neighbour.” She glared at Flynn, who ignored it. “This is my sister, Victoria Montgomery-Clark. And this is Lawrence Maynard, my mother’s lawyer.”
Abby watched as Flynn’s mouth twitched when Victoria gave him a limp handshake using barely more than her fingertips.
Flynn’s eyes sparkled a little too much when he looked back at Abby, making her stomach clench in fear. “You don’t need to worry about that thing I had on this morning. It was cancelled. Seems it wasn’t urgent after all.” His lips twitched with clear mischief. He was up to something. This was not the time for him to be up to something! He eyed the table, taking in the tea and cake. “Mind if I join you?”
Yes! I mind! Every fibre of Abby’s being screamed at him. Unfortunately, it was silent and he missed it.
“We’re feeding him now?” Katy protested loudly.
“You’re such a joker, kid.” Flynn ruffled Katy’s hair, making her growl.
He just grinned and shook hands with Lawrence. Abby stood frozen. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think of a way to get Flynn out of her house. Her eyes darted between Katy and Flynn. The two of them together had the potential for Armageddon.
Katy stomped over to Flynn’s side, folded her arms and scowled at him. “Why are you here? You can’t be here to be friendly. Muma said you’d only be nice to us when all the rivers in Scotland dried up, and I saw the stream this morning. It still has water.”
Abby gave an obviously fake, and clearly hysterical, laugh.
Flynn reached out and tugged Katy’s ponytail. “Isn’t she a cute kid?” he asked Victoria. “Almost too cute to be allowed out in public.” He turned to Abby. “Maybe you should keep her in her room?” Although he was grinning, Abby wasn’t sure it was a joke. She watched as he gave Katy a narrow-eyed glance.
“There’s rules for coming into my house,” Katy said. “You need to wear clothes. And you need to stop kissing my Muma.”
Lawrence made a choking noise as he sat back down at the table.
Abby stopped breathing. Stared at the ceiling and pleaded once again for a meteor to strike the house.
“Clothes?” Victoria asked in a strangled voice.
“She means T-shirts,” Abby said. “Flynn likes to sunbathe, so he rarely wears them. Got to keep up the tan, eh?”
Flynn cocked an eyebrow at her, making it clear he thought she was the one who was nuts.
“You’re a funny kid,” he said to Katy. “Cute and funny. Great sense of humour. Bet you get to sit on the naughty step a lot with all those tales you tell.”
Katy leaned in to him. “You need to sit on the naughty step, not me. You need to sit there for about a year. You let a woman show her boobs at a party. And you’re noisy. And messy. And Muma said you’re a pig.”
“Katy!” Abby felt the floor disappear beneath her feet. She held on to the table to stop the room from spinning. This conversation alone was enough for Victoria to file for custody. What made her think she’d get away with a week of good behaviour from Flynn? What made her think Katy would keep her knowledge to herself? It was a disaster.
“You know what?” Flynn stood. “Katy promised to show me her new Barbies. How about we do that now, kid? While your mum makes some coffee. There’s only tea here, and I’m not much of a tea drinker.”
Katy and Abby opened their mouths to protest at the same time, but Flynn beat them to it. “You know, I think I’ve got another football shirt you’d like, Katy. Why don’t I tell you about it while we look at the new Barbies?”
Katy’s back snapped straight as her eyes narrowed. Her tongue licked across her bottom lip in a gesture that could only be described as calculated.
“My Barbies are in the living room.” Katy turned on her heels, head held high, expecting him to follow.
“Kids.” Flynn shook his head and grinned at her family before following Katy.
Abby was stuck to the spot, torn between running after them to rescue Katy from Flynn, or Flynn from Katy, depending on what was happening. And staying with her sister in an attempt to make the whole visit seem normal. When Victoria eyed her with disapproval, staying won out. It was time to do damage control.
“Flynn has a strange sense of humour.” Abby forced a smile. “I’m told it’s worse since the injury. His cousin thinks he may have suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen on the operating table. It’s a terrible waste. But we have to show compassion to those less fortunate than ourselves, don’t we?”
Lawrence started choking again while Victoria’s eyes went wide.
“Now, who would like a slice of Bakewell tart?”
♦♦♦
Flynn hobbled into the living room closely behind the five-year-old terrorist. They stalked into the centre of the room. Katy spun towards him, arms folded and the usual glare on her face. Flynn stayed standing too, even though it hurt his knee, because he didn’t want to give ground to the monster.
“Okay, kid, what will it take for you to be nice to me while your aunt and her friend are here?”
“I don’t want to be nice to you. You’re mean. Smelly. And stupid.”
“Did your mum teach you to talk to adults like that?” Flynn knew damn well Abby wouldn’t tolerate Katy’s behaviour. Katy was nothing but respectful around adults—when she wasn’t running off at the mouth.
“You’re not an adult.”
And there was the answer. “You might be right, kid, but we need to get along this week. So what will it take to see some good behaviour from you? You need to be friendly too.” He thought about it. “And you can’t go telling everybody’s secrets to your mum’s sister. She’s not from around here; she won’t understand how things work.”
Katy stuck her nose in the air. “That’s a lot of work.” Her cheeks flushed as her eyes calculated. “It’s going to cost you lots.”
He folded his arms to mimic her. “Name your price. I came prepared. I have money in my pocket.”
She thought about it while tapping one finger to her chin. It would have been cute if she wasn’t a master manipulator. Hell, she could give his aunty Heather a run for her money—and she was the town’s current queen of manipulation.
Katy straightened her back and smiled sweetly. “I don’t want money. I want my own swimming pool. I want you to come to forty-seven tea parties with my dolls. You need to read me ten bedtime stories.” She thought about it. “No, eleven-teen stories. I want chocolate every day—and you can’t tell Muma about it. I want a puppy and a new Barbie house for all my new Barbies. And I want you to teach me how to play football so I can beat Jonathan.” She grinned in triumph. “I want to score my own goal. Jonathan scores own goals all the time. I want one too.”
Flynn groaned. What were they teaching kids these days? “Own goal means you scored against your own team, kid. It isn’t a good thing. It’s a bad thing. You don’t want one of those.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I want it all.”
Time was ticking, and they had to get back into the kitchen before someone came to find them and ruined negotiations.
“I can do the pool, the Barbie house and the chocolate. There’s no way I’m sitting through tea parties with your dolls, I can’t play football because of my leg and if I give you a puppy your mum will kill me.”
Katy stared at his leg. “When will it be fixed?”
Flynn bit back the urge to shout never. “Soon. Maybe. Who knows? But I can’t run after a ball right now.”
She nodded. “I want a pool and a Barbie house and chocolate and bedtime stories and ten tea parties.”
He shook his head. “No tea parties. No bedtime stories.”
She stamped her tiny foot. “Then I’m going to tell on you to Aunty Victoria. I watch you all the time when my Muma puts me to bed at night. She thinks I’m sleeping. I can tell Aunty Victoria all about your parties.”
“How old are you, kid? Because you act like a forty-year-old lawyer.”
She just smiled. It was scary.
“Katy? Flynn?” Abby shouted. She sounded brittle enough to snap.
“Coming,” Flynn shouted back. “Fine. Everything except the football and the puppy.” He figured seeing as she couldn’t count, she wouldn’t know if he kept his end of the bargain regarding how many times he endured a story or tea with the dolls.
“Deal.” She bounced on the spot. “And no more kissing my Muma.”
“That’s a deal breaker, kid. I’m going to kiss your mum. If it was so important to you, you should have mentioned it first on your list of demands.”
“Are you two coming?” Abby was near hysterics.
“Let’s go,” Flynn said. “And remember, you need to act like we’re friends. And keep other people’s business to yourself. Stop telling tales.”
“I’m going to tell Muma all about this,” she threatened, ignoring his order not to tell tales.
“That’s the one exception to keeping things to yourself. You should tell your mum. You shouldn’t keep secrets from your mum. It’s the other people I’m worried about. We need to keep secrets from them. And anyway, don’t you think your mum will figure out our deal when a pool turns up?”
She rolled her eyes as she ran from the room. “I want a really big pool. Not one of those baby ones.”
With a shake of his head, he followed her. He’d intended to help Abby, but he suspected his interference might be causing more harm than good.