Page 16 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“There you are.” From the window seat, Jet’s exasperated tone set Myles’s teeth on edge. “Shells has been asking where you were.”

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her.”

“Dude, she’s my sister.”

A useful argument only when it suited Jet, but Myles let it go. “Where’s the dog?”

That got him an eye roll. “At least you remembered we have one.”

“Where—”

“Lucky took him into the back while Scratch was here. They were haywire together. He’s still back there. Which is fine. I’ll show him around tomorrow. He’s happy in his crate.”

“Okay. Did you eat?”

Jet nodded.

“We had fresh fries and fishies and cooked spears,” Shelly offered as she jumped off the window seat and came to wrap an arm around one of Myles’s legs. “And—” A jaw-cracking yawn cut through her words, making most of them unintelligible. “—ies wiff pink hats.”

“Sounds delicious?” Myles glanced at Jet.

“Fish and chips with asparagus, and some weird fluff cookies… macarons? Macaroons?” He shrugged. “They were good.” Taking Shelly’s hand, he led her back to the passthrough window, lifting her up to sit on the counter when he got her there. “Tris made them. Apparently, there’s some kind of dessert rivalry between him and Kreed. But not in a bad way.”

“Tris likes to think he can make anything gluten-free and it will be just as good as the real thing,” Kreed offered as he came over to the window.

“It was a contest,” Shelly piped up.

“Who won?” Myles ruffled her hair, and she looked up at him, eyes shining.

“Tie. Diff’ent. Boff good. Tris’s were pretty.”

“Kreed’s were good dunkers,” Jet said.

“Fine. Its fine,” Kreed muttered as he wandered back to a pot on the stove. “Out-cooked in my own kitchen. Again.” He glanced at Myles, eyes sparkling. “You want to have a go too?”

Myles snickered.

“Oh God, no,” Jet chimed in. “Please don’t let him anywhere near a stove. There are health and safety rules, right? There must be. I’m almost positive his cooking breaks about a dozen of them.”

“Oh, thank you,” Myles shot at him.

“You see how skinny I am?” Jet shot back, grinning.

“Now that’s not all down to my cooking.” He ignored the way Jet’s grin made his voice falter. It had been too long since he’d seen it.

“Isn’t it, though?” Jet made a speculative face, then turned to Kreed. “I had to learn how to cook in self-defence.”

“Hey now!”

Shelly giggled. “Uncle My-my burnt water, once.”

Kreed lifted an eyebrow at Myles.

“I—that was—I mean. Now, I had a lot going on at once.”

“He was playing Scrabble on his phone with Auntie Pat.”

Myles opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed. “I won, didn’t I?”