The Fowler and His Net – Chapter 2

Wilf Lyons, the Gardener to Sir Roderick and Lady Billingham, unlocked the side door to the main lawn at the Grange. Gary entered with his tools and material at 5 o’clock prompt. His mind had been a hurricane of anticipation all day and his workmates had noticed and tormented him. His father too, had noticed, warned him off any funny business on this irregular, out of hours job, and had hoped that some of his concern had lodged.

‘Your ‘ere then young Fowler.’ Wilf grunted. He was sent here from the estate one day a week to try to contain Lady Billingham’s daughter’s large garden and was grumpy about the task. He’d probably get a hamper for all of his efforts at Christmas.

‘Ayup Wilf,’ smiled Gary, ‘are you by yersen.’

‘Aye, tha’ knows it’ the old man replied, ‘and ‘bout to go woam.’ He looked over to the swimming pool. ‘I ain’t got a cushy number like yous.’

Gary laughed. ‘I’ll be here till eight you old codger, and I started bloody early an’ all.’

‘Don’t know what she wants with smashin’ up perfectly good tiles,’ he grimaced, ‘could be spending that money on gettin’ some help for me.’

‘Wilf, you do’t work a’ ten.’ Gary paused and asked a question that was on his mind. ‘What do you know about her Wilf?’

‘Ha!’ Wilf laughed, ‘thinkin’ about walzin’ arm in arm in’t lounge for some sausage and mash eh lad? She ain’t been seen within half a mile of the village she han’t, so don’t go gettin’ them daft ideas.’

‘Bloody hell, slow down, yer old codger,’ Gary retorted, ‘I’m just worried about me custom, some posh folks like to pay, some don’t, you know?’

Wilf scrunched up his face and laughed. ‘Ah, she’s good for it, and you can always tap her Dad. There’s money lad.’

Gary pretended to be reassured as Wilf disappeared through the gate and toward the village. He unloaded his kit, removed his shirt, lay his sheeting and began work.

Half an hour later he heard the crunch of a car on the gravel drive and the soft thumps of two luxury vehicle doors closing. Three minutes later he saw the same curtain twitching in the upstairs bedroom that he had noticed the day before. He stood and performed an unnecessary stretch, puffing out his chest and giving his best catalogue pose. ‘That’ll give the lass something to frig about’ he thought.

Another half hour later and there was still no sign of the mother. He was working on the first of the tricky shapes around the spill-over when he heard a soft familiar voice.

‘Hello Gary, how is the work coming along?’

He turned and worked his eyes up her body. She wore flip flops, a short skirt, and a blouse, knotted beneath her lovely big bust. She had tied her hair back and he barely recognized her. The thick make up was gone, and replaced with none; or at least with a more subtle application. She was pretty. She had freckles.

‘Hello Mrs. Barton. Aye. It’s going well. Just need to get past this bit and we’re cooking.’

‘I’ve brought you some lemonade. I hope that’s alright.’ She stood close to him, quite unaware of Gary’s space.

‘Aye,’ he replied, ‘I’ll never say no.’ She handed him the glass and offered hers for an awkward clink.

‘We have been looking at a couple of schools for Rachel today. I must say it is harder work that I expected.’

Gary had a different idea of hard work but deferred to politeness. ‘I guess it is, all that driving and talkin’ and form filling.’

Samantha Barton realised her odd miss-application of words and blushed. Gary, though hard bitten, was rather enchanted that such a vulnerability was now apparent.

‘You are looking different today Mrs. Barton, is it your hair,’ He asked?

Samantha’s colour deepened further. ‘Yes, she shyly replied, ‘I seem to have got into habits recently, I thought a change might help.’

’It does that,’ replied Gary brusquely. It was now his turn to be bashful. ‘Sorry Mrs. Barton, I meant to say a change does help.’

Samantha gave an expression that signified that she was charmed by Gary’s awkwardness. They, without realizing, had inched closer to each other.

‘The girl I go to in town, Susie, she was so excited by it, she said she had hoped for years that I would be “more natural”. It does make me nervous though. Like I am a little naked.’

Gary looked around in apparent discomfort, though it was more to stop a growing arousal. He failed when his eyes again alighted on Samantha’s face, whose own focused on him intently.

‘I am keeping you from your work, you must be in a hurry to finish today with the light going. Keep your glass. Bring it up to the house, before you go.’

‘Aye Mrs. Barton.’ replied Gary as she turned and walked away, treating him again to the perfect symmetry of her mobile backside. ‘What the bloody hell happened there?’ he thought to himself. He had fully expected any emotion generated by Samantha Barton to be focused solely on his genitals. This odd flushy feeling was definitely unexpected, and unwelcome.

The light did fade and by eight he had cleared away his tools, replaced his shirt and laid the ground sheets, keeping the bare concrete clean and dry for the next day. He walked back to the house carrying his empty glass and tapped lightly on the French windows. Mrs. Barton answered with a soft smile, ‘Bring it through, oh, don’t worry about your boots, it’s not that kind of house.’

‘It is a grand house,’ noted Gary.

‘It is, we worked hard to make it what we wanted, my husband and I,’ she leant on the kitchen worktop throwing her shape to her front, ‘you knew him, so I understand.’

This surprised Gary and he showed it. ‘How did you…’

‘Oh, my mother is worse than any of the gossips in the village I can tell you. And she never forgets.’

It was an moment of his life that he didn’t expect to recount with Samantha Barton. ‘Well, I got into trouble when I were leaving school, like, and Captain Barton helped me out, like, saw me straight. Got me into the army you see.’

‘He was generous.’

‘He was.’

‘He was much loved.’

‘Aye, by his lads n’all.’

The pair was silent for a while before Mrs. Barton spoke. ‘I’m about to open a bottle of Chablis, care to join me?’ She offered.

‘S’that wine?’ Asked Gary. ‘I don’t know that much about it to be honest.’

Samantha approached him playfully and stuck out her chin.