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‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s mostly Mum’s domain. I help out when Mum’s shopping or plays bowls or just needs a break. Mum, we’re here,’ Jess called out as she opened the front door.
A woman appeared at the end of the hallway, light behind her forming the silhouette of someone much shorter than Jess, and somewhat plumper.
‘Goodness, but you made good time. I didn’t expect you till four-thirty at least.’
When she came forward, Ben saw her more clearly. She looked nothing like Jess, being short, with ash-blonde hair and blue eyes. Attractive for her age, though.
‘Hello, there,’ she said, smiling as she looked him up and down. ‘You must be Ben.’
‘And you must be Mrs Murphy,’ he replied, stepping forward to give her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Lovely to meet you.’
Jess could not believe the look on her mother’s face. It was the kind of look you saw on the face of a female fan of a rock star. Truly!
‘Oh, don’t call me that.’ Her mother fairly simpered at him. ‘Call me Ruth.’
Jess gained some satisfaction in the thought that he wouldn’t charm her father so easily. Joe Murphy was a tough nut to crack. He wasn’t going to be impressed by a New Yorker who’d never had dirt under his fingernails in his life.
‘In that case, Ruth,’ Ben said, flashing those brilliant white teeth of his, ‘would you kindly point me to the nearest bathroom?’
Her mother didn’t point. She escorted Ben herself to the small powder room next to the family room, leaving Jess standing there in the hallway like some shag on a rock.
Jess sighed, then trudged upstairs to use the toilet in the main bathroom. By the time she made it downstairs, Ben was ensconced on one of the kitchen stools, chatting away happily to her mother whilst she worked on the various salads.
‘That’s a terrific new name Ben’s come up with for Fab Fashions, isn’t it?’ she directed at Jess as she joined them.
‘Fantastic,’ Jess agreed, at which Ben slanted her a narrow-eyed glance. Had he heard the slight sarcasm in her voice?
‘You might get your job back there soon,’ Ruth rattled on.
‘You never know, Mum. I presume Dad’s in the shed working on that blue Cadillac?’
‘Yes, the seats finally came yesterday. He’s been working on them all day.’
‘I think I should take Ben out to meet Dad before the others get here, don’t you?’
‘Oh, but I just put the kettle on for a cup of tea. Ben says he likes tea more than coffee. Same as me.’
‘We won’t be long, Mum,’ she said, then gave Ben a look which brooked no protest.
He slid off the stool and followed her back down the hallway and out of the front door.
‘You are bossy and controlling,’ he said as she marched in the direction of the shed with him in her wake.
‘And you’re a serial charmer,’ she snapped.
He laughed. ‘Better than being a serial killer.’
‘I suggest you curtail that silver tongue of yours with my sisters-in-law. The Murphy men are known to be extremely jealous.’
‘What about the Murphy women?’ he threw at her.
‘Them too. So watch yourself.’
‘I like your being jealous.’
‘Of course you do. It suits your male ego, which is insufferably large.’
‘So will something else be if you keep that up. I get turned on by feisty women.’
She gave up at that point, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat.
She was glad that her father chose that moment to walk out of the shed, wiping his hands on a towel as he did so.
‘I thought I heard someone,’ he said, coming forward. ‘You must be Ben,’ he said, and held out his hand.
Ben shook it, thinking that this was where Jess got her striking looks. Joe Murphy was one handsome fellow, with thick black hair sprinkled liberally with grey and the deepest, darkest brown eyes, which at that moment were surveying him with considerable thoughtfulness.
‘So, how did your weekend go?’ he asked Ben, not Jess. ‘The wedding go off okay in the end?’
‘It was close to perfect,’ Ben said. ‘Jess here was marvellous, the way she stepped in. You heard about what happened, did you?’
‘Oh yes, Ruth told me all about it. Look, I just have to finish a job here and I’ll be over to clean up and get the barbecue ready. You ever cook on a barbecue, Ben?’
‘Lots of times,’ he said. ‘I was brought up here in Australia.’
‘No kidding; I didn’t know that. So that’s how your best friend turned out to be Australian.’
‘Yep,’ Ben said, sounding more Ocker by the minute. ‘We went to school together in Sydney.’
