Let’s see, she texted back.
Jonas watched Magda run out of the door, wincing as it slammed shut.
“Sorry!” he heard her call through the open window. He sighed. It was probably a vain hope that she wouldn’t completely go through her allowance.
Jonas walked slowly back into his study and switched on his computer to browse through his emails. The lack of activity was starting to really get to him.
The phone rang, startling him from his musings.
“Keane.”
“Jonas, can't you ever answer the phone without sounding like you're in a bad mood?” queried his mother. He smiled.
“Hello, ma. Nice to hear from you.”
“That's better—much more polite. How are you?”
“What do you think? I’m bored. All I'm doing is watching the landscape gardeners turn our wilderness into something more fitting for the house. Other than that, I’m feeling better, thanks.”
“Oh yes, Magda mentioned the garden in her email. How's it coming along?”
“It's taking shape. I think you'll like it—no, actually, I think you'll love it when you see it. The designer's really talented.”
“When will it be finished?”
“In a month or so, roughly. I've given the designer a strict deadline and her team are working like dogs.”
Niamh was silent for a moment.
“Her team?” she said, slowly. “I can't wait to see it. The design must have been spectacular for you to give a woman the job.”
“The design was spectacular,” he said evenly. “Magda's planning a grand opening ceremony—you'll get your invitation soon, no doubt.” Jonas paused. “Actually ma, I'm glad you rang. Can you come over and spend some time with Magda?”
“Of course! But have you forgotten we're on a cruise in a week?”
Damn, thought Jonas. “Ah. Yes, I had completely forgotten.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Not exactly. It's just that she's starting to be a bit more...attractive...to boys and I could do with some female help about how to handle it.”
Niamh laughed. “Oh dear—she's getting to that dangerous age, is she?”
“Yes, one of the gardening team is completely smitten.”
“Oh dear.” Niamh sobered slightly.
“He's a nice lad,” Jonas said hastily, “and nothing's happened.” Yet, he thought. “I've spoken about it to the designer—”
“So she's going to sort it out when they go back to the office?”
“She's part of the team on site,” Jonas said, catching sight of Sam through the open patio doors, putting her foot on a spade.
“Goodness. She sounds...energetic.”
“I've never seen anyone so slight do so much physical work,” Jonas said. His mother was silent on the line for a few seconds.
“Is Magda aware of the boy's feelings?”
“Not a clue. You know what she's like, just goes through life in a bit of a daze...”
“Well, I'm sorry I can't come now, but we can come and visit when we get back. Hopefully things will remain calm until then.”
Jonas hoped so.
“Steve? Can you spare me a minute?”
Steve looked up at her. “'Course. Is owt—sorry, is anything wrong?”
Sam shook her head.
“I just need a chat with you.” She led the way to the far side of the garden and sat down on the grass. Steve joined her, looking wary.
“Before anything else, I'm delighted with your work,” she said, watching him. “Everything is going very well. Your tutors tell me you work hard, and your course work is excellent.”
“But?” prompted Steve. Sam smiled wryly in acknowledgement and paused.
“I've noticed you're rather sweet on Magda.”
Steve coloured immediately. His eyes swept away from her and he looked at his fingers, pulling up the turf.
“It's just that—I’m really sorry, it's unprofessional and I need you to stop,” Sam said as gently as she could.
Steve bowed his head. “I haven't done nothing, what is there to stop?” he mumbled.
Sam sighed.
“You gaze after her. You stop concentrating when she's around. It's not just me who's noticed. Her father has too.” Steve's head came up. “Don't worry, he's leaving me to talk to you. He also knows you've said and done nothing, and he applauds you for it,” Sam embroidered.
Steve was silent for a moment and then shrugged disconsolately. “I knew she were too good for me.”
Sam frowned. “What are you saying?”
“Well,” said Steve, gesturing towards the house, “she'd probably have nowt to do with me anyway. I'm not in her league.”
“That's rubbish. If we weren't doing this job, it would be your own business who you asked out!” Sam exclaimed. “But we are doing this job and until it's finished, you'll have to put a rein on how you feel.”
Steve looked deep in thought. “Right,” he said finally.
“While we're on the job, I’d like you to act like she's not there. Do you think you can do that?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. I guess I'll have to, won't I?”
He smiled tightly and slowly made his way back to where Andy was working. Sam could see the droop in his shoulders and cursed hormones, young love and the hot weather. She suddenly felt ancient and glanced at her watch. Nearly two. Thank God, they would finish for the day soon, hopefully before Magda returned from wherever she'd gone.
It was a rather quiet afternoon. They were packing up when she saw Jonas wave at her from the patio. Her heart sinking, she turned to Andy.
“I need to go and talk to Mr Keane. Don't hang around, I think it would be better if Steve was out of here.”
“How will you get back?”
“I'll ask Mr Keane to drop me at the office or get a cab. Leave the Land Rover there and I'll pick it up to go home.”
Andy nodded and went off without another word.
She strolled over the house, rolling her shoulders to ease their stiffness. He stood, tall and dark, waiting for her and despite the heat of the afternoon, she shivered. Before she got to the patio, he turned and disappeared into the house. She waited, awkward on the patio until he re-appeared with two glasses, ice bobbing in them. He handed one to her.
“Gin and tonic,” he said briefly. “You look like you could use it.”
He gestured her to one of the garden chairs and she sank into it with a sigh of relief.
“I saw you speak to Steve,” he said.
“Yes.”
“How'd it go?”
“He asked me what he could stop, seeing as he's done nothing...” she trailed off and took a drink.
“What did you say?”
“We agreed he needed to act like she wasn't there.”
Jonas looked at her.
“You don't approve, do you?” he said, watching the ice bob in his glass.
“It doesn't matter what I think. It matters what you think. You're the client. I've done as you asked. Steve will stop mooning after your daughter. I hope. He's going to find it hard, I think. He's very smitten.”
Jonas was silent at that.
“I wish I could pack her off to her grandparents, but they're off on a cruise,” he said finally.
“Well, I've done my best. Hopefully that will be enough.”
“I don't envy him,” Jonas added unexpectedly. “Some people don't find it easy to hide their feelings.”
Sam looked at him from under her lashes. The afternoon sun was hot on her arms and she could hear the bees, drowsily robbing the flowers of pollen. Jonas looked relaxed, elegant and she sensed the power in his long legs.
“Steve is young, so yes, I imagine it'll be a struggle.”
“Does it get easier with age, do you think?” he asked, surprising her. She thought a little.
“I think as you get older, you hide things better—get a better mask.”
“Do you? Hide things?”
She stared at him, taken aback by the conversation. “I imagine I'm no different from anyone else, although I try to be as honest as I can—otherwise life gets very tiring.”
He laughed softly and she was electrified by the sound.
“What about you?” she ventured before she could stop herself.
“I expect I have my own mask,” he admitted smiling. “But I agree, it can get very tiring to keep it in place.”
“Do you ever let it drop?”
Jonas met her eyes. “Almost never.” His smile seemed to slide along her spine.
She took the final gulp of her drink and put it down on the patio rather hurriedly. “Apart from one of my team fancying himself in love with your daughter, are you happy with the work?” she said, desperate to move the conversation to less disturbing ground.
“Of course,” he said, leisurely getting to his feet. He put his hand out and before she realised it, he had pulled her upright. “Care to walk me round?”
Her hand tingled from his touch. “Well, we’ve dug the foundations for the patio by the wall,” she said breathlessly.
“Lead on,” he said, with a slow smile.
They walked slowly along the garden walls, and Sam outlined the work they'd done and what was next. He listened attentively.
“I think it will be a wonderfully private place to sit in the evening when it’s completed,” she finished, imagining it in her head. “And this is a lovely tree. The ash is credited with lots of protective qualities according to British folklore, did you know that?”
He shook his head. She smiled ruefully, embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes.”
“I like it,” he murmured. She stared at him for what seemed like an endless moment.
Sam tore her eyes from his. “I ought to be going.”
And how are you going to do that? she suddenly remembered Andy had taken the Land Rover. “I need a cab,” she said, changing her mind about asking for a lift.
“I'll take you.”
“No, it’s fine—”
“Don't be ridiculous, it's less than five minutes. I'll get my keys.”
The ride home in his beautiful, leather-smelling car was very quiet.
“It's just right here,” she said. Andy had left the Land Rover outside the office as agreed. She hoped the office would be empty, so she could just collect the Land Rover keys and get home. She longed for a bath, and to get the dirt from under her nails.
“Thanks!” she said on a whoosh of breath, as she struggled to undo the seat belt. Their fingers tangled as he reached across to help her, and the tingle shot through her limbs again. At last, she was free.
“I'll see you tomorrow,” he said quietly.
She scrambled out of the car and almost ran into the office.
All very well about Steve hiding his feelings! Her libido taunted. What about you?
Jonas’ phone buzzed.
“I'd better take this,” said Jonas. “I haven't spoken to Gerry in a little while...”
Ignoring Magda's scowl, he went into the study.
“Hello Gerry, how are you?” he said warmly.
“Hi Jonas,” Geraldine's voice sounded rather crisp, unlike her usual breathy tones. “I'm fine, I hope you're feeling ok?”
Jonas said he was.
“I'm sorry I can't actually be with you, but I thought I needed to tell you as soon as I could...” she paused. “Jonas, you know how fond I am of you, but I think we've grown apart from one another. I think we shouldn't see one another again.”
Jonas was speechless for a second. He sat down.
“This is a bit out of the blue,” he said finally.
“Is it? I think it’s been building up for a while myself,” said Geraldine. “I know it’s hard, but I do think it’s the best for both of us.”
Jonas’ mind went blank. Had he missed the signs? Or had he not cared enough to look? He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about that.
“Is there somebody else?”
Gerry’s laugh sounded softly down the line. “How like you, Jonas. No, there’s no-one else. I might ask you the same question.”
“Of course not!” Jonas said, pushing aside any doubts.
“Well, I’m sorry, but we’re not right together and—well, I don’t have time to hang around. I’ve decided I do want a proper relationship, children, even, and I’m not as young as I was. I know you don’t feel the same. Not about me, anyway.”
Jonas was stunned by her honesty. “I’m not sure what to say... I'm sorry,” he said finally. “I know we haven't been able to be together much just lately and obviously, I've been ill.”
“Yes, it has been difficult, although I'm not sure that it’s just your illness. I think since you moved to the village, we've had less and less in common.” Her voice cracked. “Which has caused me some pain, if I'm honest. And you know what a coward I am about pain.”
“I never meant to hurt you...” Jonas tried again. “Can't we talk about this? Is there anything I can do to get you to change your mind?”
She laughed softly.
“No, I don't think so. It would be dishonest of both of us, and eventually even more embarrassing, I think.”
Jonas was silent. He was a little startled at the clarity and directness of her words. He suddenly wondered whether he'd missed a lot about Geraldine Lord in the time they'd been together.
“I don’t know what to say. Are you sure?” he asked, knowing she was. There was silence on the line.
He felt he needed to say something more, but he also needed to be truthful. “I have enjoyed your company, Gerry. You've been a delight,” he said sincerely.
“Oh, Jonas—don't be nice to me now!” She sounded close to tears and it shocked him. He'd never heard Gerry anything but light-hearted, flippant. “I've made up my mind and I think it's better this way. I don't know what’s happened—but something has, hasn't it?”
Jonas felt an unexpected pang of loss. She was uncomplicated, sophisticated, urban. He used to be the same. And now—he'd rather not think about what he was now. He'd reneged on the implicit deal they'd had with one another.
“I suppose it has. Would it make it any better if I said how truly sorry I am?”
She laughed with a catch in her voice, a bit like the old Gerry, but not.
“No, Jonas, it would definitely not make it better. But it's nice of you to say it, anyway.” She drew a deep breath. “Now, being a bit more practical, can you send over anything I left with you? I think there was a silk wrap, and some hideously expensive face cream which I simply can't do without.”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. I hope to see you around Manchester, but I daresay we won't meet up often. So goodbye, and thanks for a lovely time.”
Jonas once again found himself lost for words. And then, while he was thinking what he could say, he heard the phone go dead.
He was still sitting there five minutes later, lost in thought, when Magda came in search of him.
“Dad? Is anything the matter?” she asked anxiously, seeing his face.
“No. No, everything's fine.”
“Is Gerry ok? You look a bit—sad.”
He sighed.
“She's fine. She's tied up with one thing and another. I probably won't be seeing her again.”
Magda stared at him. “You won't?”
“No. She's busy, and I’ll be busy too when I get back to the office, so it's probably best.” He stood up and she walked over and gave him a hug. There was a silence.
“Mrs Brown has apple pie for pudding,” she said into his shoulder.
“Sounds great.”
19
Andy peered up at the blue, blue sky.
“Another hot one,” he said to no-one in particular. Sam, her glance flicking to Steve's face in the rear-view mirror, stifled a sigh. Another hot day meant Magda and probably Lisbeth walking around wearing not very much, and the tension in the garden, much like the temperature, would r
ise.
“I heard something about thunderstorms,” she muttered. “We could do with a good storm to clear the air.”
It was true on so many fronts. For the past two weeks or so, the work had progressed but the working relationship between her and Jonas had disintegrated. There were sharp comments about mud on the paths, observations about the project management (on track, she was grimly satisfied to note) and just general grumpiness.
“If I didn't know better, I'd have said he was in need of a good shag,” she'd said to Amanda, noticing that the willowy blonde had disappeared from Brook Lodge.
She'd been working weekends, too—visiting potential new customers on Saturdays, designing and planning on Sundays and during the evenings. Even Andy was starting to comment about the shadows under her eyes.
Some things were going well. Her contacts in the Labour party had given her information about the independent councillor and as she was so stretched, she’d briefed Mrs Pratchett. Mrs Pratchett, taking her new puppy as additional conversation collateral, had cornered the councillor about the development plans, and with all the finesse of a sledgehammer, had secured a promise to seriously consider their objections against the planning application. Calls for a wildlife survey had been made, but as yet, Anglo Homes were taking their time about a response. The council officers still refused to talk to them, which worried Sam, and infuriated Desmond Black.
Steve, true to his word, had changed his attitude to Magda almost overnight. Magda had been puzzled, then curious, and had seemingly set herself a task to draw the unusually taciturn Steve out of his shell. Steve had resolutely ignored her, and finally Magda lost interest.
All of this was almost as painful to watch as it was for Steve to go through, and Sam was desperately sorry.
They drew up outside the house at eight o'clock sharp. They were expecting the paving to arrive at around nine.
Sam itched to get on with it. Once the patio was complete, they could move on to the planting. Talking of which.... She walked away from the Land Rover and rang Paul while Andy and Steve unloaded.
“Paul? Hi, look, can you check something for me? Can you get on to Johnson's and check the plants,” Sam said. “I heard they were having some financial issues and I want to be sure our order is safe. It's due next week.”
The Garden Plot Page 17