The Garden Plot

by Sara Sartagne

  “Sam...” Jonas leaned over her and kissed her breasts and flat stomach, trailing his tongue over her hip bones.“God, Sam. If we need to stop it needs to be now,” he said tightly. “Are you really sure?”

  “Really sure,” she said.

  He reached into a drawer, tore the foil and she helped smooth the sheath down his length. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his neck, lifting her bottom as he slid off her underwear.

  She felt his fingers stroke her clitoris and groaned, her eyes closing. He slipped his finger inside her and she lifted her hips to welcome him. A few moments of this torture and her breath was coming faster. He moved between her thighs and put his big hands on her hips. She felt his cock slide along her. She gasped and shifted, urging him on.

  “Look at me, Sam,” he grated, and her eyes locked on to his. He pushed into her slowly. She gasped with pleasure as he moved surely, filling her.

  Sam ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling the muscles move and clench. She scraped her nails over his smooth skin and felt his lips against her neck and breasts. She tensed her thighs and Jonas gasped. Sam smiled up at him, loving the firm thrusts and moaned as the tingle started between her thighs.

  She clutched him as she orgasmed, digging her fingers into his muscles and crying out into the quiet of the house. It was only a second later he followed, rearing up, his arms rigid. He groaned as he sank down, and she hugged him close.

  Sam looked at Jonas' face, relaxed and handsome. She stopped caring about the consequences, kissed him gently and closed her eyes in pleasure.

  Down the hall, hiding in the linen closet with the door ajar an inch, Lisbeth and Magda heard the distant conversation and then, quiet. They looked at one another.

  “Has it worked? Are they together?” whispered Lisbeth.

  “Looks like it.” Magda turned to her in the cramped cupboard and they high-fived one another.

  “I think we could call that a success,” breathed Magda smugly.

  “I hope they're so happy together that they forget how Sam got to be here,” Lisbeth warned. “Still, we'll split the blame— I could have stopped you and I didn't.”

  Magda beamed at her. “You’re a mate. I'll get told off, but hey—I'm back to school next week. It'll be fine.” She waved away any concerns, and they giggled.

  They were still in the cupboard congratulating themselves when they heard a strange cry from the bedroom.

  “Was that Sam?” Magda said after a second's silence.

  Lisbeth flushed and looked very uncomfortable. “I think we need to leave,” she said nervously.

  “Yep, with you there. We can go down the back stairs.”

  They slid out of the cupboard and raced down the hallway, away from the noise in the bedroom and things they'd rather not think about. Yet.

  Sam turned over and propping her head on her hand, looked at the big man at her side. She'd slept deeply for about ten minutes, awakening with a start and then relaxing as she caught sight of the clock. The fading sun laced through the drapes.

  “Hi,” she said softly, stroking her finger along his straight, strong nose.

  Jonas smiled without opening his eyes. “Hi.” He took her hand “OK?”

  “Oh yes. You?”

  He opened his eyes and they glinted like glass green at her. “I feel wonderful.”

  She blushed.

  He chuckled, and nipped the fingers stroking his nose with his teeth. She lay back, feeling deeply content and relaxed. See? Said her libido smugly. See what amazing sex can do for you?

  “Can I get you something?” Jonas said, watching her closely as he reached for his robe.

  “I could murder a cup of tea.”

  “No problem. Incidentally, my parents will be coming back this evening and my bloody daughter is around somewhere. This doesn't mean I want you to go—it's so you have a choice.”

  Sam stretched and put her hands behind her head, watching with satisfaction as Jonas' eyes fell on her body. “I'm not sure I can cope with the start of a new relationship at seven o'clock and meeting the whole family at eight.” She smiled at him to soften her words, and he nodded.

  “Tea coming right up.”

  Jonas was humming as he waited for the kettle to boil. His phone buzzed. He read the message and laughed. He slipped the phone into the pocket of his robe, made the tea and went back to Sam.

  Sam was sitting in his bed, the sheets tucked neatly under her arms. He paused at the door, rather liking the sight.

  “Magda has confessed and begs both our pardons.” He put the tea down and reached for the phone, and passed it to her.

  Hi Dad. I know U'll B mad, & I'm sorry. But I knew there was something between U & Sam—right, wasn’t I? That she came over says smg abt how she feels abt U, right? Tell her I'm sorry for scaring her. Magda XXXXXXX.

  “She's a smooth-talker, that lass of yours,” Sam said.

  “It's a manipulative thing to do to you. Can you forgive her?”

  Sam took a sip of tea. “I suppose so. She was very convincing on the phone, I was almost out of my mind with worry... But seeing where we are now, I suppose it would be churlish not to.”

  ‘Out of your mind with worry?’ Excellent! noted Jonas, well satisfied.

  They sat in companionable silence as they drank, until Sam said, regretfully, “I should be going.”

  Jonas sighed. “Yes, I suppose you had, if you're going to avoid my parents. But come to dinner tomorrow night, will you?”

  Sam smiled shyly. “Of course. I'd love to.”

  Later, she texted Amanda. Sorry, can't come to dinner she wrote. Got a hot date.

  32

  “You've done what?” Sam gasped at the two teenage girls standing awkwardly in front of her the following day. When they’d turned up this morning, Sam had expected an awkward conversation about the phone call yesterday. She’d been ready to be grave and disappointed. But she hadn’t expected this.

  “I entered you into the competition. You'll have got a letter by now,” said Magda, looking at the floor of the cottage.

  “I've had no letter, I'm sure. I sorted my desk only yesterday...”

  Just before that dreadful, and then wonderful afternoon her libido prompted slyly. Sam re-arranged her face.

  “Well, no, you wouldn't have got a letter—I’ve had Paul watch your post. He's probably got it in a drawer somewhere,” mumbled Lisbeth.

  “What?”

  Sam's head was spinning, wondering where her rather nervous, timid niece had gone. Dragging her mind back from that thought, she returned to her main concern.

  “But what on earth will your father say? You might have paid for the garden, Magda, but it is his house! And I didn’t want to enter the competition! I told him I didn’t!”

  Magda looked mutinous and Lisbeth intervened.

  “Really? You didn’t want to?” Sam had the grace to blush. “Look, we know the entry was a bit—unconventional--” Sam rolled her eyes, “--but you did want to enter, didn’t you? And you’re friends with Magda’s Dad now, aren’t you? So he might not be all that mad.”

  Sam ran her hands through her hair. “God, I don't know what to think!”

  “I just wanted it to be a surprise...” muttered Magda, starting to look tearful. Sam sighed and pulled her into a hug.

  “I know, sweetie. But after your exploits yesterday—” Magda ducked her head, and Sam went on, “—how are we going to tell your dad?”

  “I know, I know... I'll just have to show him the letter I got.” Magda seemed to stiffen her shoulders and Sam was momentarily very amused.

  “Well, he can only send you off to summer camp,” she said with a grin.

  “I think you're both wrong,” Lisbeth said firmly. “I reckon he'll be chilled.”

  “Before we talk to Jonas, I want to know about it all,” Sam said, picking up her phone. “Paul? Hi, I’m sorry to call on a Saturday morning. I wondered if there's been any post for me that you put ‘somewher
e safe’? Yes, she's here with me, and Magda. Right. Where is it? Fine. I'll see you Monday.”

  She disconnected the call. Lisbeth looked worried. “He won't get into trouble, will he?”

  “No, I imagine you twisted his arm big time.” Sam looked at them, cross and reluctantly admiring for their scheming. “Come on, we're going into the office.”

  The correspondence was hidden beneath a tidy pile of invoices in Paul's pristine desk. Magda looked in awe at the immaculate organisation.

  “Jeez, he even colour codes his paper clips!” she said to Lisbeth.

  Sam frowned. “There are two letters,” she said, puzzled. She opened the first, running her eyes down the elegant typeface, feeling her face flush with pleasure.

  My garden! A garden I designed is in the final of a national competition!

  “Yes, this is your entry,” she said to Magda. “So what's this, then?” She opened the second envelope. Her eyes scanned the page and then stopped abruptly, focused on one part of the letter.

  “Did you write on behalf of your father as well?” she asked Magda.

  “No, I wrote from me,” said Magda, looking over her shoulder. Sam pointed to a part of the letter and Magda's eyes widened.

  “'We appear to have a double recommendation for your garden design at Brook Lodge. You indicated in your entry that our reference would be Ms Magda Keane, and we have written to her asking for access to the garden. However, the entry to which this letter refers has been submitted from Mr Jonas Keane, enclosing the plans and asking for the garden to be entered. We are investigating with Mr Keane, although your original entry will still stand,'” she read. Lisbeth gasped.

  “No way!”

  “So Dad entered you as well!” said Magda, a grin lighting up her face.

  Sam steadied herself with one hand on the desk. Jonas had entered her design? What had changed his mind? And he’d done it while he was still rushing around talking to God-knows-who about his company? She blew out her cheeks.

  “I think I need to have a quiet word with your Dad.”

  “You're coming to dinner tonight, aren't you?” Magda said knowingly. Sam felt her cheeks grow hot.

  “Yes, but that's hardly going to be a good place to speak with him,” she said. “I'll run you back and grab him for ten minutes.”

  Brook Lodge was basking serene and golden in the late summer sun. It gladdened Sam's heart as she drove up the drive.

  Jonas was coming down the stairs when Magda threw open the front door, and his eyebrows rose as he saw all three of them.

  “A delegation like this is rarely good news,” he said drily, although his eyes seemed to caress Sam as she stood awkwardly in the hall.

  “Hi—can I have a quick word?” Sam said, suddenly breathless at the sight of him.

  “It's about the garden competition, Dad!” Madga obviously didn't want to be left out of the discussion.

  “Ah.”

  “I thought you said we couldn’t enter!” Magda said, accusingly.

  “I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want the garden entered, if I recall!” Jonas snorted. “I changed my mind. And while we're on the subject, madam, what are you doing, taking decisions about my property without consulting me?”

  His velvet voice suddenly cooled, and Lisbeth and Sam edged closer together, while Magda squared up to her father.

  “Have they written to you?” she demanded.

  “Yes, I had an email this morning.”

  “Well, if you remember Dad, it was my trust fund that paid for it. So as the client, I decided I had a right to enter the work I paid for!”

  Jonas looked struck, and then rallied. “But I don't see your name on the mortgage Magda!”

  “But you will see my name on the garden design contract!”

  There was tense silence as they glared at one another. And then Jonas threw back his head and laughed. Magda’s face turned smug.

  “You ought to be a lawyer,” he said, smiling. “So we both wanted to get Sam some kudos for the design. I'll call them on Monday to explain why Sam got two entries.” He turned to Sam. “Are you ok with the garden being entered? Is that what you were here for?”

  “Yes, I thought I'd better clear everything before I started speaking to the organisers. I'd hate to be disqualified because the owners of the house couldn't agree... But also, I've been really ungrateful to Magda—and you! I'm utterly thrilled to have been entered! And to have reached the finals!” she said, turning to Magda.

  “And Lisbeth,” said Magda. “It was Lisbeth who pointed out the contract was with me and not Dad.”

  Sam stared at Lisbeth in astonishment.

  “Well spotted, Lisbeth,” Jonas said while Lisbeth's fair skin flushed.

  “I see everything's been sorted out,” commented Niamh from the living room door, with a man Sam had never seen before. He was tall and bearded and was regarding her with twinkling pale grey eyes.

  “You must be Magda's Opa—have I pronounced that right?” Sam said, putting out her hand. He shook it gravely.

  “Excellent. And yes, I'm Friedrich. You must be Sam. Niamh has mentioned you.”

  Oh dear. I hope that was a good mention.

  “All good things,” he reassured her, without missing a beat.

  God, I must try to create some sort of poker face! Sam thought.

  “An open book, my sweet,” murmured Jonas, putting a casual arm around her shoulders. Sam looked up at him, not knowing whether to laugh or be cross.

  She became aware of Lisbeth and Magda’s satisfied expressions. A horrified thought flicked across her brain—and then was dismissed.

  Not possible, she thought. It's not possible that they could have set all this up.

  Niamh suggested they go into the garden and ordered Jonas to get his diary, or phone device, or whatever infernal electronic thing he used to manage his time—so they could go back to the competition organisers with dates to visit.

  They settled on a date and small talk followed. Sam was aware of being gently quizzed by Friedrich about her business and her family, but she didn't mind. She felt the warm sunshine on her face and looked at the garden with pride. It was lovely.

  She became aware of Jonas watching her.

  “Okay?” she asked him.

  He smiled.

  “I wondered if you were staying here until dinner.”

  “Oh, no! Am I in your way? I can go...” She made to scramble to her feet, but Jonas put his hand on her arm.

  “You misunderstand. I didn't want you to be stuck here all afternoon if you had things to do. I'd love for you to stay.”

  “Actually, I would like to talk to you,” Sam said in a rush.

  “Sounds ominous.”

  “No, it’s more of an apology...”

  “Shall we walk through the garden?”

  As they walked, Sam tried to think where to start.

  “What’s up?” Jonas prompted her.

  Straight in, Sam.

  “I’ve been a bit of a hypocrite, I think,” she said. He frowned, but said nothing. “I think somewhere in all this I turned into a NIMBY--a ‘not in my back yard’ person? I talked a lot about saving the village, but really, I just wanted to protect the place I’ve known all my life. I didn’t want anything to change. I didn’t think that people might want what I’ve already got—a home of their own. All you do is give that to them.”

  “I make my living this way—I’m not a saint.”

  “I know—but I think I thought that I was!” she laughed, the breath catching in her throat. “I was so convinced I was right, that everyone else who disagreed with me was a destructive moron—when I think of it now, I’m so ashamed.” She hung her head.

  He put his hand on her arm and she stopped, turning to face him.

  “It’s just a different perspective,” he said. “You were right that there are better places to build than Jessop’s Field. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Hopefully we’ve worked out a compromise and you can have
both houses and a view.”

  “I should thank you—”

  “Shut up Sam.”

  “But—”

  He kissed her for a long time and a few minutes later he raised his head.

  “I can think of a million ways you can thank me, Sam. When we’re alone I’ll go into detail about them.”

  “God, I hope they're not going to get, like, embarrassing!” muttered Magda, watching them walk away. She was wondering what she'd started, and feeling envious in a way she didn’t quite understand.

  Both Niamh and Fredrick laughed.

  “But you want your father to be happy, yes?” asked Friedrich.

  “Of course!”

  “And it was your idea—yours and Lisbeth's—was it not?”

  Both teenagers nodded.

  “Then I think we can safely say that you have achieved your goal. Jonas looked a different man last night.”

  “I shouldn’t worry about your father being embarrassing, you'll be back at school very soon, so they can get through the first few weeks more or less out of your view,” Niamh consoled them.

  Magda and Lisbeth perked up.

  “God, yes—I'd forgotten about school! Wow, what a mega-relief!”

  Their laughter drifted over the garden and may have reached Sam and Jonas, but they possibly didn’t hear. They were busy.

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  Cursing under her breath, Sam struggled into the black dress and Charlie finally closed the zip.

  “Well sis, you look amazeballs, as Lisbeth would say,” she commented, looking over Sam's shoulder into the mirror.

  Lisbeth, nursing a small glass of champagne, chuckled from the corner.

  Sam stared. The dress softly clung to her breasts and thighs, leaving her shoulders bare. The diamond pendant Jonas had given her for her birthday nestled against her throat, and her mother's diamond studs twinkled in her ears. Her hair shone, and a tiny silver and diamanté flower, courtesy of Lisbeth, caught the light as she turned her head.