Close Relations. Lynsey Stevens

couldn’t have been more dissimilar. Georgia’s mother had been bright and effervescent, loving and caring. Isabel rarely so much as smiled, and Georgia couldn’t remember her aunt ever hugging any of them when they were children.

      After Jarrod had arrived Georgia had always sensed that although Isabel and her stepson never openly expressed their dislike it was a mutual emotion. Or so she’d thought.

      She recalled asking him once what he thought of Isabel and he had retreated into himself, shutting her out Until she’d slid hot kisses along the line of his square jaw to nibble teasingly on his earlobe. Then he’d turned to her, his arms holding her almost desperately to him, kissing her with a fierce passion that had at first frightened and then inflamed her.

      ‘And how’s Aunt Isabel coping with Uncle Peter’s last attack?’ Morgan asked.

      ‘With her usual self-possession,’ Jarrod replied evenly.

      ‘She’s a cold fish, that’s for sure.’

      ‘Morgan!’ Georgia reprimanded her sister.

      ‘Well, she is, Georgia. She’s always been like that. When I was a kid I used to wonder what she’d do if I climbed on her knee and put my sticky fingers on her dress, but I was never game to find out’ Morgan giggled. ‘I reckon she’d have passed out if I had. She wasn’t a bit like our mother. You’d never have known they were sisters, would you, Jarrod?’

      ‘No, I suppose not’ Jarrod turned off the highway and Georgia sensed an even deeper undercurrent in his flat tone.

      ‘But then again,’ Morgan continued, ‘you’d never guess Georgia and I were sisters. Georgia is the image of Mum and Lockie’s fair like Dad.’ She gave a soft laugh. ‘I’m somewhere in the middle. And, speaking of Lockie, where is our dear brother anyway?’

      ‘Collecting his van from Andy’s,’ Georgia told her. ‘Or, at least, he was,’ she added as Jarrod drew to a halt in the driveway behind Lockie’s van. ‘He’s actually beaten us home.’

      The outside light flicked on, illuminating the path, and as they climbed the steps Lockie opened the door.

      ‘Great timing!’ he exclaimed. ‘You OK, Morgan?’

      ‘I’m fine now, Lockie,’ Morgan assured him with a faintly martyred air.

      Jarrod set down her suitcase and Lockie turned to him. ‘Hey, thanks for stepping in and helping us out, mate.’

      ‘Yes, poor Jarrod.’ Morgan pulled a face. ‘Only back a week and you’re already rescuing the Grayson family again. Dad told me when Lockie was young you were always saving him from all sorts of scrapes. Georgia too.’

      Jarrod laughed easily and Georgia’s nerve-endings vibrated elatedly. ‘As a boy Lockie had the very worst luck of anyone I knew for being caught out by his father or mine.’

      ‘And when Georgia was late she just used to say she was with you and Dad accepted it without question.’ Lockie laughed with him.

      Oh, Lockie. Georgia swallowed painfully. She’d always said she was with Jarrod because it had been the truth.

      ‘Georgia staying out late at night?’ Morgan put her hands on her hips. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Ha! You can hardly dictate to me, then, can you? Or is it the old, Do as I say not as I do?’ She smirked at her sister. ‘You’re blushing, Georgia. That’s what comes of having a shady past.’

      Georgia’s vocal cords refused point-blank to function and for the life of her she couldn’t conjure up a light retort. She shot a quick, desperate glance at her brother and saw that his face had coloured too. She didn’t dare look at Jarrod.

      Lockie broke into the lengthening silence. ‘Well, you know what they say, Morgan-it’s the quiet ones you have to watch. And no one could call you quiet. But anyway,’ he continued quickly before she could interject, ‘what’s all this rubbish about Steve hitting you?’

      ‘He did hit me. Look.’ She indicated a slightly reddened mark on her cheekbone. ‘But don’t worry—I hit him right back. Then he just walked out. End of story.’

      Lockie raised his eyebrows. ‘What was the fight about?’

      ‘Nothing. And everything.’ Morgan pursed her lips. ‘He’s pig-headed and obstinate.’

      ‘You should know about that, Morgan. Pig-headed and obstinate? Then that makes two of you,’ Lockie remarked drily.

      ‘Don’t you start, Lockie.’ Morgan pouted. ‘I’ve already had enough from Georgia. And I really don’t care to face the big-brother, big-sister inquisition tonight. I didn’t get any sleep last night and I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning, maybe. I think I’ll go to bed now.’ She turned back to Jarrod and the sulky look left her pretty face. ‘No one around here understands me,’ she murmured with a sigh. ‘I can sympathise with you, Jarrod. I’d cut and run if I had the chance too.’ And with a flounce she left them.

      Lockie grimaced at Jarrod and picked up his sister’s suitcase. ‘Give us strength! How about some coffee? I could do with a shot of caffeine and I put the kettle on just before you arrived home. Want a cup, Jarrod?’

      He inclined his head. ‘Thanks.’

      Georgia moved towards the kitchen and to her consternation Jarrod followed her, watching silently as she set out the coffeemugs.

      Flashes of conversation came disjointedly back.

      ‘Isabel sent for me.’

      ‘You’re still more of a hunk than you have a right to be.’

      ‘I’m about the same age Georgia was…’

      And with torturous clarity she saw again Morgan’s small hand on Jarrod’s arm.

      ‘How’s the coffee coming?’ Lockie appeared behind Jarrod, fragmenting the atmosphere of solid tension in the kitchen. ‘Morgan’s decided she’s not going to bed and she’ll have a cup too,’ he added, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, and Georgia automatically reached for another mug.

      When she’d poured hot water over the coffee grains she set the steaming mugs on a tray, but before she could lift it Jarrod had taken the tray and motioned for her to precede him into the living room.

      Morgan was already in the room and had draped herself over a chair. As Jarrod passed her a mug of coffee she smiled up at him.

      ‘Thanks, Jarrod.’ Her young voice was softly husky. ‘I suppose you’ve noticed a few changes around the area,’ she continued brightly. ‘The new shopping complex and then all the houses that seem to be sprouting up like mushrooms.’

      ‘Well, he has been away for four years, Morgan,’ Lockie said scornfully. ‘And I’m more interested in the States. Tell us about that, Jarrod.’

      He shrugged and sat down. ‘Not much to tell really. I’ve been working pretty hard.’

      ‘That’s sacrilegious!’ Morgan exclaimed, and her glance slid to her sister. ‘You sound like Georgia. That’s all she ever does. Work, work and more work.’

      Georgia sank wearily onto the sofa, yearning for the solitude of her bed, the oblivion of sleep. ‘You’re exaggerating, Morgan.’

      ‘And it’s a pity you don’t do a bit of work.’ Lockie frowned at his younger sister. ‘Instead of swanning around with your friends all day.’

      A flush washed Morgan’s cheeks and she sent Lockie a withering look. ‘I don’t swan around. And jobs aren’t exactly thick on the ground around here, brother dear.’

      ‘We know that, Morgan,’ Georgia put in placatingly, but before she could continue Morgan held up her hand.

      ‘I can feel a lecture coming on so I think I will go to bed after all.’ She stood up and set her coffee-mug on the table with a bang. ‘You know, I really