Stammering Wings

‘Can I give him a hand with his bags?’

‘Of course, go ahead.’

Toby flashed him a grin like the sun coming up and Lorne wished he’d been paying attention to the boy’s question, because he was good at recognising that wistful half-hoping tone most days and could have politely implied that the kid would have been safer cuddling up to a grass snake than the slippery man approaching them. Too late for that now. Lorne watched Toby almost skipping up the garden path to the cloaked figure.