I must thank Feebee for her inspiration and assistance in this chapter. I have learnt so much! Seriously though, the stereotype it contains is meant with affection, not insult. I hope you will think so too.

BTW, this story may turn 'M' at some point, so either reset your rating filter or add it to your story alert …

Sunday AM

Two men sat in the blissful cool of the kitchen, in silence. Not their usual slightly awkward silence but one which held an element of amiability as they drank their coffee and ate their toast. Both were surprisingly content to be there together, one was feeling more than a little relieved, and ever so slightly smug. Both also noticed that they appeared to be wearing the same uniform of neutral coloured shorts and polo shirts, but neither made any comment.

As soon as Max set eyes on Guy the previous night he knew his own status would rise within family Brown. Richard had a new victim to disapprove of and mistrust. He smiled behind his coffee cup and lifted the main section of the Sunday Times to hide his pleasure. Not his first pleasure of the day of course, that had been making love to Millie an hour or so earlier. And in her parents' house it was always such a pleasure. She would be reluctant to begin with, worried they would be overheard, but Max had enough tricks to help change her mind and his success was always inevitable. It thrilled him to watch her try to quietly contain herself, pushing her further and further until he withdrew just enough to make her pull him back with ferocity so far removed from her every day demeanour. Finally with huge wracking sobs and gasps for air she finally allowed her body to overrule her mind and accept the release that came with it, taking him with her.

Where Max had been happy, almost gleeful, to meet the new arrival, Millie had become noticeably quiet and withdrawn. He had tried to bolster her but to no avail and together they had excused themselves, leaving Richard and Sondra to catch up with Tara's latest exploits and get to know her new friend. Returning from the bathroom, Max found her sitting on the bed in her underwear hugging her knees to her chest and rotating the diamonds around her finger absently.

"Are you having second thoughts?" he asked while taking off his watch, striving for lightness in his tone to mask his concern.

"What?" she looked up to him, bewildered. "No, not at all. Why do you say that?"

"You've been pretty quiet for a while, I … I wondered if perhaps you weren't sure."

Millie shook her head. Of course not, I've never been more sure of anything. It's Tara. The same old story. She comes home with tales of her adventures," she sighed, "it makes me feel … boring and steady and far too sensible. I know it's stupid, but I still don't understand why you wouldn't prefer to be with someone like her."

"Because women like her are all well and good for a shag but that's all. Whereas women like you are most definitely for keeping," he knelt in towards her, lifting her hair and nuzzling into her neck.

"Oh, so you'd shag her?" Millie couldn't help the small smile tugging of the corners of her mouth.

"I didn't say that." Millie raised her eyebrows, and Max knew he'd broken through. "I might have shagged women like her, but she doesn't do anything for me," suddenly serious, he broke off to look into her eyes, "nobody has since we've been together." Both instantly thought of Irina, but she was no longer relevant, nothing more that a chapter of the story that had brought them to this point.

He'd left her in bed that morning having spent much of the previous night convincing her, in his own special way, that Tara's return came a poor second to their news. Tara came and went with the wind, her departures and arrivals were frequent occurrences as she latched on to one new humanitarian or environmental catastrophe after another. As Max read the latest report from America on the BP leaking well, he fully expected her to disappear to the Louisiana bayoux within days, quite possibly with her new boyfriend in tow, to wash the polluting oil off the local wildlife, animal and human.

The new boyfriend, an Australian. Max recalled with amusement the horror that spread across Richard's face at the unkempt specimen that had followed Tara into his house and then nearly choked on his wine as it sat down next to him, immediately helping himself to the remaining poached pears directly from the bowl with the serving spoon and an overly familiar wink at Sondra. To her credit, Sondra barely flinched at that. However, she was unable to hold back a squeak of surprise when he belched loudly in appreciation of her culinary accomplishments before asking in his broad accent for 'the dunny'.

The quiet breakfast was shattered by shuffling footsteps entering the room. Max was the first to look up as his jaw dropped. Guy came to a standstill only a couple of feet away, a couple of feet too close and naked except for the briefest of tight orange briefs, leaving little to the imagination but delivering much to the eye.

"Morning all," he yawned, suddenly attracting Richard's attention with a jolt. Guy looked from one man to the other and then back again. "You two always go shopping together?" he asked referring to the uniform they wore. Without waiting for a response, he plonked himself in between them and began noisily attacking the food on the table. "Nice place you've got here, Dick. You must have done well for yourself," he commented, his mouth full of cornflakes. Richard reluctantly looked across as the interloper in his household and Max nearly choked on his toast at the strained expression on his face, knowing that not too long ago he would have been its cause. Guy was undoubtedly crude and vulgar, but Richard was hardly the height of sophistication by birth, he'd had to come a long way himself to meet Sondra's expectations of behaviour. But all that was conveniently forgotten as he rose from the able with his coffee cup and the business section of the paper in hand.

"I'll be in my study, if anyone wants me … urgently," he added as a clear warning that his morning was not to be needlessly disturbed any further.

"Is Dick always like that?" asked Guy, reaching for a croissant and slathering it with soft butter.

"Yeah, but especially so when people he's never met before call him Dick."

"Oh," Guy sniffed, apparently unconcerned by the offence he was causing, "the sensitive type then?"

"Not really, no. But you might like to tone yourself down, show him a bit of respect if you want to be on his good side."

"Ah, I'll work my charm on him, don't you worry," Guy joked with a wink which Max found deeply unpleasant to be the recipient of, as if Guy saw him as being of the same ilk. "Besides, it's not his good side I'm interested in." Max looked at him with barely disguised distaste but Guy was oblivious, continuing, "she is a cracking little goer. Great arse, nice tits, not as good as your girl's of course," Max clenched his fists, "but you can't have everything. And she knows exactly what to do with her mouth. She plays the pink oboe a treat, if you know what I mean," he added with a lascivious leer before taking a large bite of croissant, flakes falling from his mouth as he went on. "You know, I've wondered what the two of them might be like together since Taz showed me a photo of Mil, really nice tits," he mused cupping his hands as if he was holding them. Max wondered if he might explode with the desire to pummel Guy to a pulp, hoping that imagining himself doing it would be enough rather than having to go through with it and then having to explain to everyone else why. "You must have thought about it mate, I mean they're two little crackers, any bloke's dream to have two sisters like that at the same time." Guy drained his coffee and let out a resounding belch while giving his chest another good scratch. "Well, all this talk is enough to raise the old mongrel for another go. It's time for my morning dump and then I'm off to crash the yoghurt truck again. Have a good one yourself," and with that he sauntered off out into the hall and up the stairs, scratching his backside with his hand inside his unnervingly tight briefs. Max felt his shoulders slump in relief that Guy's rampant libido had got the better of him before his own resolve had evaporated.

"Everything okay, Max? You look worried." Sondra walked in through the patio doors from the garden and deposited her basket of cut flowers on the table next to Max.

"Um, yeah, no, I'm fine. It was just something Guy said, I was trying to work out what he meant, that's all." Sondra eyed him with amusement and Max realised that she wasn't in the least bit likely to be offended by her new houseguest, unlike her husband. "He's er, quite something, isn't he?" remarked Max with a chuckle, able to laugh now the source of his irritation was no longer present.

"Well, I suppose we must accept he is … an unusual individual, thankfully uncharacteristic of all Australian men. Oh you're wearing the clothes I bought for you, good. I hope they're a comfortable fit. I can always take them back if not."

While the men got to know each other downstairs, Millie was woken by a tap at the door.

"You alone in there?" called out her sister.

"Yeah, come in." Millie sat up in bed and pulled the bed sheet around her.

Tara walked into the room, leaving the door open behind her and threw herself down onto the bed next to her sister. "Are you okay? You seemed really quiet last night."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm glad you're back, I have missed you. I just feel a bit dull in comparison sometimes. You always have the best stories to tell."

"You are not dull. You're like Mum, the glue that holds us all together. That's not dull, it's warm and loving and I'm so happy for you and Max, even if I still think he's a bit of an opinionated prick."

"Tara!"

"Okay, he's a lot of an opinionated prick! Ow!" Millie punched her sister in the arm at the insult.

"Anyway, what have you managed to bring home this time? Dad looked ready to have a fit when he called him Dick."

"I know! Wasn't it hilarious? Mum didn't seem to mind being called Sandy though. Might try that one myself later."

"Better not let Dad hear or you'll be disinherited."

"I don't care about money."

"You will if you can't pay for your flights next time you head off. So, what on earth are you doing with him? He's a complete yob."

Tara wiggled her fingers suggestively and whispered, "He's a genius. So much so that I threw away my vibrator! He calls it strumming the one string banjo, can you believe it?" she ended on a shriek.

"Oh my God, Tara, that's revolting. You can't hook up with someone just because he's good in the sack."

"Why not? Come on, let's face it, what did you see in lover-man to begin with? His sparkling personality, sensational wit and warm heart? What makes you think Guy doesn't have hidden depths?" Millie pulled a face to say that she sincerely doubted Tara's thought process on this one. "Anyway, if he doesn't, at least I'll have some fun in finding out. Honestly Millie, the things that man can do -"

"No! That's enough, I don't want that image in my head..."

"Too late, it's already there!" trilled Tara as she flopped onto her back.

"Ugh! And what's going on with your hair?" Millie gingerly picked at a length. "All these dreadlocks are awful, and it smells," complained Millie in an effort to get away from her sister's lurid descriptions of her sex life.

"I know, but honestly it was the best option at the time. Not enough water for hair washing, so I let it go. Mum's taking me to her hairdresser on Tuesday for an elfin boy crop. Guy thinks it will be a real turn on, body of a woman but looking slightly like a boy-"

"Tara!"

"Taz? Where are you?" called out the subject of their conversation who then appeared in the doorway. "Oh there you are, both of you." Millie recoiled as his eyes lit on first her then Tara. She pulled the sheet a little higher, wishing it was something more substantial than thin white cotton. She could see exactly what he was thinking. "Well now, a bloke could get very used to starting a day like this."

"Like what?" asked Tara provocatively, looking back at Millie and giving her a wink. Millie rolled her eyes at the vulgarity of it all and still with her modesty protected slumped back against the headboard, hoping these two would just go away.

"What the hell is going on?" Millie snapped back to attention at the strength of force in Max's voice. It occurred to her that he was wearing more in the way of clothing than the rest of them put together. No wonder he wasn't looking pleased with what he saw.

"Guy," Tara drew out the single syllable in warning laced with humour as she leapt from the bed, "I think we'd better leave these two alone, don't you?" Guy looked over at Millie initially with disappointment but then shrugged as he returned his attention back to Tara who had slipped a shoulder free of her dressing gown and was gently pushing him back towards the door, past a fierce looking Max. "C'mon baby, if you're good to me I might just vacuum that vein of yours!"

Max firmly shut the door behind them, staring at it furiously until he was disturbed by a muffled giggle behind him.

"Oh, you think that was funny do you?" he asked menacingly, as he walked towards her rather vulnerable form.

Sunday pm

"Georgie! Good to hear from you. How's tricks?" Richard's voice rang out from his study as Max walked past the closed door. He knew he should keep walking, he'd promised not to ask questions, but this wasn't asking anything, was it? He was only taking an interest. "Georgie, slow down, slow down. Start again." Max edged closer, his ear to the wood. "How much? Shit, Georgie, I don't know. That's a lot to ask. What's going on? … Alright, I get it," he sighed deeply. "I'll have to talk to Sondra … yes, I do. I can't siphon off that sort of cash without her knowing … you say that, but you won't pay it back, at least she'll find out before you do and I'm not going to lie to her … yeah … yeah. I'll see what I can do … I said, I'll see what I can do, Georgie. I can't make any promises, mate. I wish …" another deep sigh, "it's too late for that though isn't it? Way too late. I'll call you Georgie and listen, not a word of this, not to anyone."

Moments later, Max heard footsteps in the kitchen, which he guessed belonged to Sondra. Ducking into the downstairs loo for cover, he waited. Sure enough, within seconds he heard Richard leave his study and make his way into the kitchen. Two sets of footsteps then returned to the study, the door closing firmly behind them.

"Georgie needs money."

"How much?"

"Five hundred."

"Thousand, I assume. Did he tell you what for this time?"

"No, said it was better if I didn't know."

Sondra paused. "Do we have it?"

"Yes, but it's what I was going to use for the house in Italy."

"Give it to him," she fired back. "Give it to him, but this is the last time. Nothing more, no more contact."

"But-"

"I love him too, Richard," she interrupted, he voice harder than Max had ever heard. "But I love this family far more and I will not allow his choices to have any more influence over us. I know he means a lot to you, I know you have so much shared history, but he has been nothing but a liability for years. You can't keep on bailing him out like this. He made the decision to follow a different path years ago. I don't want him in our lives, I won't let him drag us down with him."

The matriarch had spoken and her word was final. Max moved away from the door and back out into the garden, he wouldn't learn anything more from listening in. Georgie Fleischmann had long niggled away at Max. They had met on a handful of occasions and the man had always been jovial, almost to the point of reckless by joking that Max wouldn't want to know too much about him, insinuating that his underworld connections were very close to home, yet he himself was as clean as a whistle. He seemed to believe himself untouchable, that his network of business ventures provided all the respectability he needed. But Max knew his clubs and betting shops were little more than a front for something more sinister, yet uncovering enough evidence to launch an investigation had always been the problem. Georgie was too well liked in the community for anyone to give up anything on him. Max pondered what he should do. How binding was his promise to Richard yesterday morning? He'd agreed not to ask questions, but surely that only applied to Richard and the family. Questions asked during the routine course of his work had to be another matter entirely, didn't it? And Sondra was clearly keen to oust Georgie from her circle while he wanted to oust Georgie from Canley, together with as many associates as he could round up. They had a common goal, in fact he'd be doing it for her as much as himself. He was just going to have to be discreet, that's all.