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his sister peering around the edge. “You’d better wash your
hands before you pat Mozart. He’ll spazz out if he smells Arthur on
you.”
    Giving Arthur
a last couple of strokes, Moz pushed to his feet. “How is he?”
    “Which boy?
Arthur’s angry, Mozart is, well, Mozart.”
    “Mozart’s
freaked.”
    “Weirdly so.”
She held the door open. “Don’t let the flies in.”
    “You’re the
one with the door open.”
    “I’m being
polite, boofhead.”
    Laughing, Moz
followed her inside, automatically flicking the security screen
lock.
    “Simon’s in
the lounge,” Elissa said.
    “Okay.”
    “I mean,
there’s no need to lock the door. I’m not here alone.”
    “Huh. Old
habits die hard.”
    Simon appeared
in the lounge room doorway, a glass of iced coffee in one hand, a
sandwich in the other. “City boys.
    “You weren’t
born in the country.”
    His
brother-in-law was completely unfazed. “Been here in the country
for awhile.” He affected a long, slow drawl. “Once you live in the
country, ain’t no goin’ back to the big smoke.”
    “Am I supposed
to be impressed by that appalling accent?”
    “City folk
just don’t understand us country folk.”
    “This is
getting worse.” Moz looked down at his sister. “What did you put in
his sandwich?”
    “Sardine and
onion. Don’t look at me, it was his choice.”
    Simon grinned
widely. “Want to give your brother-in-law a big, welcome hug
hello?”
    “Prefer to
kick your arse.”
    “I’m
hurt.”
    “You would be.
I have to order my size boots.”
    “Big foot.
Maybe we should nickname you Yeti.”
    “Maybe I
should rearrange your accent.”
    “Maybe you
should go see Mozart.” Elissa slid between them.
    “She’s worried
about little me.” Smugly, Simon took a big bite of the smelly
sardine and onion sandwich.
    Moz looked at
the firie. Dressed comfortably in cargo shorts and t-shirt, feet
bare, red hair tousled, Simon had the lazy look about him that
meant he was in a lazy mood and had probably spent most of the day
sacked out on the sofa. But his lazy demeanour was belied by the
tall, muscular build, the fit body the firies were required to keep
in shape for their job, and he knew behind the lazy smile was a
sharp, keen mind. Plus even though his brother-in-law had his lazy
moments when he liked to sloth around, and in fact, he’d been known
to lie on the hammock out back and not move for hours, he worked
hard. He’d almost single-handedly renovated the old house he’d
bought before Elissa had come along, he did his share of the
housework, and he was well known for helping others’ out.
    Basically,
Simon was a good bloke and he loved Elissa deeply, was devoted to
her, and for that reason alone Moz accepted him. However, if he
ever hurt Elissa, Simon was going to be in a whole world of
pain.
    “How about
just a hand shake?” Moz offered.
    “Are you
shitting me? Last time you did that I almost had to have it
x-rayed.”
    Moz
grinned.
    “See that?”
Simon asked Elissa. “Told you he’d done it deliberately.”
    Elissa rolled
her eyes.
    A cat started
meowing in the depths of the house, catching all their
attention.
    “Poor little
bugger.” Simon gestured with the sandwich, the smell of sardine and
onion wafting in the air. “He’s missing you.”
    Moz started in
the direction of the meowing. “I really need to find a place of my
own.”
    “Got our ears
out for you, mate. But don’t fret, Mozart’s no problem.”
    Moz opened the
bedroom door carefully and slowly. Sure enough, he felt the slight
resistance. “It’s just me, boy.”
    Mozart
starting meowing louder than ever, his head peering around the door
as Moz moved further in, his big eyes lighting up. Anxiously, he
went up on his back legs, his claws digging into Moz’s pants as he
started to yell up at Moz.
    Scooping him
up in his arms, Moz cradled the cat close, pressing him against his
chest. Mozart kept bleating, bumping his head against Moz’s chin,
purring