Daniel’s Garden

By Alp Mortal

The Carter Seagrove Book Boutique Edition

Text Copyright© 2014 Alp Mortal

All Rights Reserved

Contents

Acknowledgements and Credits

Chapter One – “not interested”

Chapter Two – “easy does it”

Chapter Three – Gardening, uphill and down dale

Chapter Four – Paradise on Earth

Chapter Five – Glory hole

Chapter Six – 'Driving Lorries For Dummies'

Epilogue

Acknowledgements and Credits

I wish to acknowledge the assistance of two very dear friends who contributed a lot of help to get this story into a fit state to be published. Those two friends are Liz and Karen.

Always with grateful thanks.

Cover design by Liz Winters

Model photograph copyright Studio DER via Fotolia

The model photograph is used for illustration purposes only. The author does not know the model or his sexual orientation.

Alp Mortal

August 2014

alp.mortal@hotmail.com

www.alpmortal.weebly.com

carterseagrove@outlook.com

www.carterseagrove.weebly.com

Chapter One – “not interested”

“FUCK ... FUCK ... FUCK!”

The coffee mug was the first to hit the lawn just outside of the French doors, followed by the laptop.

“FUCK!”

Silence; save for the sound of the lawnmower from the bottom of the garden.

Daniel was now in that unhappy place; the one where you find yourself after venting your spleen and taking it out on inanimate objects and then realising that you have neither coffee nor a laptop. A cloud of fresh tobacco smoke billowed out of the French doors; well, some things are sacred!

Samuel was trying to keep a low profile having seen the cup and computer ejected. As first days go it had already been eventful.

“Hello; Daniel. Garden ... of no interest ... shed with many tools. Have fun! Money on kitchen table.”

“Hello; Samuel. Prefer Sam. Gardener ... of no interest ... you’ve got Japanese Knotweed. Will! Thanks.”

The twitch at the corner of the mouth told Sam that despite Daniel’s bluster, he had a sense of humour and clearly appreciated the fact that he, Sam, was wearing shorts.

“Coffee later ... busy.”

“Milk and sugar ... busy.”

A flash of teeth sealed the deal.

Sam had seen the advert in the newsagent’s window. Dolly had said, “Be careful. He chews people up and spits them out. He’s always upsetting someone or other.”

Sam had called and with no introductions on Daniel’s side had been informed that;

“Garden. Twice a week; Tuesday and Friday. Ten quid an hour. Shed full of tools. Say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ ...”

“Yes ...”

“Great! Tuesday ... tomorrow.”

CLICK.

Well, ten quid cash in hand paid the rent on the cottage.

The house was stately even by Esher Park Avenue standards. A late Victorian pile in simple lawn and shrub grounds ... apparently of no interest; reached by a driveway of 100 yards that began at the gates, open, and ended at the triple garage which housed a brand new Jaguar S type. Sam drove in and pulled up outside the garage, leaving room for the Jag’ to get out. No-one answered the front door and so he went around the back to find Daniel screaming down the phone. He espied the shed and decided it would be best just to get on with it. Daniel had come out shortly after and delivered his ‘induction’.

Once Daniel had returned to the house, Sam opened up the shed and took a deep breath. He started the mowing furthest from the house not wishing to disturb Mount Vesuvius this early in the day; though 9 wasn’t early in his book. The top had blown off at 10 o’clock. Seeing the bluish smoke escape from the terrace doors, Sam decided it was time for a puff break and wandered back to the shed to rummage for the tin in his bag. He lit up and his own cloud was answered by Daniel’s, like two Apaches signalling to each other across some canyon; ‘The pale faces are coming!’

Sam was already tanned. Daniel was pale like china. Whilst puffing away, Sam examined the Japanese Knotweed, “He’ll have to sort that.”

Finishing his cigarette, Sam returned to the bottom end of the garden and finished mowing and raking up. The compost was in good order and in actual fact it looked like the grass had been cut within the last week. Marshy had said that ‘Bridger’ had been doing the job. They were good, if not a little expensive, so Sam wondered why they’d been given the ‘heave ho’.

By now it was eleven and the coffee bug was biting so he wandered up to the house and found the kitchen door open. Stepping up to the threshold he saw Daniel making the coffee, engrossed in the process, with an un-lit cigarette between his teeth.

“Two minutes.”

“You’ve got Knotweed; gotta sort that.”

“Sort it ...”

“It’ll take a bit of sorting and it won’t be chea ...”

“There you go,” Daniel announced, handing over the perfect cup of coffee; in his opinion.

“Thanks!”

“Right! I’m Daniel Harding; and you are?”

“Sam Taylor.”

“Pleasure! I’m not the complete cunt that Dolly at the newsagent’s paints me as. However, I’m ...”

“Busy ...”

“All the time and totally ...”

“Can I have some more sugar please?”

“Sure; biscuit?”

“Lovely!”

“... totally hacked off with my publish ...”

“Author?”

“... ’Matthew Franks’ ...”

Sam frowned momentarily but knew he hadn’t heard the name.

“I’m niche; which obviously means that my publisher ... THE CUNT ... can treat me like an imbecile.”

Sam just looked on and nodded, wondering if the lava flow would eventually engulf them both. He was fascinated too because Daniel was like a perpetual motion machine, touching and fussing everything.

“I’m popular; always turn out a decent story but he seems ...”

“Why do you stay with them then?”

“Oh, it’s just easier; all the marketing and publicity.”

Sam remembered what Liz had told him about self-publishing.

“You can do that all yourself these days ...”

“For kids and pensioners.”

Sam didn’t really know; Liz seemed to survive on it.

“Either way, won’t be easy to mow the lawn with the laptop plugged into it.”

“No; I’ll remove it.” The lips toyed with a smile; lips in perpetual motion.

“Do you want me to mow up here if you’re working?”

“Gotta go out; be fine. I’ll remove the laptop.”

Silence descended, companionable enough but sprinkled with a little tension and Sam just assumed that Daniel wasn’t comfortable with strangers around the place.

“Do you want another?”

Daniel’s question about another coffee was, therefore, at odds with the vibe.

“Uhm, sure ... but I don’t wanna hold you up.”

Daniel blushed for no apparent reason and Sam shifted uneasily, rolling another cigarette to give him something to do.

“What do we need to do about the Knotweed? Bridger mentioned it but I didn’t like him so I ignored him.”

“Dig it all out and dispose of it properly. You couldn’t sell this place if they see it ...”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Your neighbours might get the hump if it starts to invade their property.”

“Well, sort it. The TWAT next door has given me enough grief about the trees already.”

Sam accepted the second cup of coffee.

“I parked up by the garage but there’s room for you to get out.”

The flush had disappeared from Daniel’s face and he just nodded.

“I’ll get on.”

Another nod.

By the time Sam had brought the lawnmower up to the top end of the garden, the coffee cup and the laptop had been removed from the lawn and the French doors were closed. He cut the grass and raked up, tidying the edges with the strimmer. He broke for lunch at 1:30pm. He hadn’t heard the car leave but heard it return. He retreated to the shed to eat his sandwich. He saw the French doors being flung open accompanied by a combatant, ‘RIGHT!’

Sam turned his attention to the hedges and tidying up the trailing roses that covered the gazebo. At three-thirty, he heard ‘TEA UP!’ and wandered up to the kitchen door.

“That CUNT flagged me down and practically ordered me to do something about the Knotweed; fucking ordered me!”

“I can do it but it won’t be pretty for a while or cheap.”

“Just do it. He’s the Swiss Ambassador and fucking the wife of the Neighbourhood Association Chairman. I just can’t deal with the bullshit.”

“I’ll start tomorrow,” Sam suggested, hoping to mollify the temper, “I’m just gonna cut the grass out front and call it a day; if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. Do you want paying today?”

“Uhm, no; we can square up later if you like.”

“Okay; I have to get on because I have a deadline.”

Daniel disappeared, dragging the word behind him like a truculent dog or child.

Sam cut the grass out the front and did the edges of the driveway, all the way down to the gates. There was another house directly opposite, with gates which were closed and security with dogs patrolling the perimeter.

Esher Park Avenue was a bit of an enclave for the seriously wealthy; bankers, top Civil Servants and heads of industry. Sam smiled at the guard who ignored him. The dogs were curious but got hauled away. Sam loved dogs, especially his own, Maggie, a mature Rottweiler. He wanted to clock off so he could let her out because she’d been cooped up in the cottage all day. Normally he brought her to work with him but not knowing the score, he’d left her at home today. He’d have to ask if he could bring her tomorrow because if he was doing extra days, she couldn’t be left alone for all of that time.

By six o’clock he had finished. Wandering around to close the shed he passed the kitchen and saw Daniel fussing with something; fresh from the shower and just wrapped in his towel.

“I was gonna ask if I can bring the dog; she’s as good as gold.”

“As long as it stays out of the house and doesn’t try to shag next door’s Shih-Tzu; STUPID YAPPING BITCH LIKE YOUR OWNER! What time tomorrow?”

“Say ... 8?”

“Fine; I’m out for the morning.”

“Okay, thanks; see you tomorrow.”

There was a pause, like an empty cartoon character’s dialogue bubble.

“Bye.” And the word sounded like someone had written it quickly, in the bubble.

Chapter Two – “easy does it”

“Hello sweetheart!”

Maggie made more than the usual fuss of her returning master. Sam grabbed the lead before he took off his boots and they headed to the common.

“You can come with me tomorrow. Gotta behave yourself; and no shagging next door’s Shih-Tzu!” he chuckled.

Not having used his own tools and not having to clean them up, he had more time and seeing as his own grass was cut, he sat down with a beer for a change. The cottage belonged to Veronica’s ex, Charles. Sam’s tenure was assured all the time Charles was in Ibiza shagging Natasha. The rent was a hundred quid a week which Sam gave to Veronica as part of the divorce settlement. He did her garden in exchange for the phone and the electric.

She’d have waived the rent if he’d tended her roses but he liked his bread toasted on only one side; if there was any bread and there hadn’t been of late.

He sorted a few tools out for the job of removing the Knotweed and flopped in front of the ancient laptop that Liz had given him. The story was unfinished and every time he worked on it he picked off the scab of the plot and started again. The labour of cleaning the wound and re-applying a fresh plaster took him to 11pm and his bed. Maggie scooted around the garden and flopped in her basket.

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

Too tired to wank he just drifted off with the image of Daniel’s dick pressed up against the towel and was soon carried to the nicest place he’d been for a while.

Maggie jumped into the back of the van; an old Hiace which just did the job but like everything else, it was on its last legs. Thoughts of what he couldn’t afford to do got dispelled by the prospect of a few extra days at Daniel’s. If he kept the weekly gig he’d be able to get ahead a little. Stopping at Dolly’s for tobacco, he got caught in the net of her questions.

“He seems okay to me ...”

“Grant said ...”

Sam nodded for a few minutes and then called time, “Gotta go. See you later, Dolly.”

The car was still in the garage.

“Get the coffee on, Daniel!”

He sorted out the few tools he’d brought with him before carting them round to the shed, passing by the open kitchen door en route.

“Morning!”

No response.

He deposited the tools and wandered back to make sure everything was still okay. He stopped at the doorstep; Daniel was making coffee, just in his underpants, attempting to iron a shirt.

“Hey!”

“Morning! I’ll give you a hundred quid if you can iron this shirt.”

Sam laughed.

“I’m serious!”

“Why don’t you have someone to do it?”

“HATE those clucking, fucking BITCHES ... always ferreting around. Can you do it?”

“Sure.”

Sam ironed the shirt whilst Daniel made the coffee and clucked about the bitches that came in and eyed everything with disdain or disgust. Seemingly none knew the meaning of the word ‘clean’, or, for that matter, ‘don’t go into the office’. All had understood ‘FUCK OFF!’

Sam held up the shirt, “There you go.”

“Thank you!”

Daniel sucked deeply on a cigarette and closed his eyes momentarily.

“Was gonna start on the Knotweed unless the plan has changed.”

“No; rip the CUNT out and burn it!”

Daniel had received a letter from the Neighbourhood Association that morning; it was sitting on the kitchen table.

“These people always have to ... oh, whatever. I’m outta here; see you later. Use the kitchen to make a drink when you want ... bye.”

“Bye.”

The episode kept Sam smiling all morning. He got quite hot and bothered at the recurring image of Daniel clucking around in just his underpants. He had the build of a slim prize fighter; all toned, tight and smooth. Breathing deeply had shown off the musculature very nicely. The black trunks had hinted at a prize bull’s package. The arse, as it disappeared out of the kitchen, resembled a nicely rounded aubergine begging for a courgette and onions.

The morning was taken up with the initial task of removing the Knotweed stems and bagging them. Next came the marking out the area that needed to be excavated. The soil would need to be removed and disposed of properly. Knotweed dispersed thousands of seeds that could lay dormant for years; only be removing the soil and the entire root could you hope to eradicate it.

“Need a skip.”

Maggie came mooching.

“Hey, sweetheart!”

She crashed on the lawn and yawned.

Not wishing to tear up the lawn until Daniel got back and agreed, Sam did a bit of weeding and cut back the ivy which was threatening to engulf the gates. A car left the property opposite; a black Mercedes with blacked out glass. The security guard was hard pressed to hold the dogs whilst the gates closed. Obviously they’d caught the scent of Maggie who was coming into season.

Lunchtime approached and just as Sam was about to clear off to the pub he realised that the kitchen door was open and he didn’t have the key to lock it.

“Bollocks! Sorry, Maggie; perhaps he’ll be back soon.”

Weeding beds and cleaning the pond took up the first half of the afternoon. By three o’clock it was hot and Sam ditched the shirt and lay down beside Maggie for a breather. The important stuff had been done and it confirmed to him that two days a week was just about right. He dropped off.

“Hey! Ten quid an hour to kip wasn’t the deal!”

Sam quickly dragged his thoughts into order and opened his eyes, finding Daniel standing over him with a cup of tea in his hand for him.

“Shit! I dropped off. What time is it?”

“Four o’clock.”

“Oh, well, that’s me lunch break seeing as I couldn’t clock off and head to the pub.”

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t lock the kitchen door.”

“Oh, shit! I didn’t even think ...”

“No worries; whilst you’re out here ...”

Sam showed Daniel the area that needed to be excavated and outlined the plan.

“Need a specialist to take the topsoil away. We’ll replace it and re-sow the grass, or get new turf.”

“Will this get the CUNT next door off my back?”

“For sure.”

“Do it. I need to change.”

“I’ll order the skip.”

“I’ve got a heavy box in the car. Can you help me lift it into the house?”

“Sure.”

“Just give me a minute to change; meet me around the front.”

Sam walked around to the front of the house and sat in the back of the van to wait. As Daniel’s eyes had been all over him, out of decorum, Sam slipped his shirt back on.

“Less is more,” he murmured to himself just as Daniel re-appeared and flipped open the boot of the car.

“Right! Need to get this upstairs.”

Sam chuckled to himself as Daniel removed a dust sheet.

“What is it?”

“A 16th Century oak coffer, most likely used to store a Bible; bought it in Dorking this morning.”

It filled the boot and was incredibly heavy. They carried it as far as the hall and stopped for Daniel’s benefit; he was already puffing.

“Give me a minute. This is going in my room.”

The stairs were wide but turned twice. They stopped on each half landing for their joint benefit.

“At the top, turn left and it’s the first door on the left,” Daniel instructed.

“Okay,” replied Sam, who was walking backwards.

They made the top and turned. Even Sam’s muscles were burning by now.

“Nearly there!”

They entered the room; Sam backed in first.

“Over there!” Daniel gestured with a nod of his head in the direction of the furthest corner.

They shuffled around the room which was dominated by the bed.

“Easy does it,” cautioned Sam, as they lowered the box to the floor.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Daniel, “thank you!”

Sam took a moment to look around the room. It was tasteful but a little dated, not helped by the panelling which made the room dark and more like a library than a bedroom.

“How old is this place?”

“1901.”

“All oak; beautiful ...”

“Right! I think this calls for something stronger than tea; beer?”

“Cheers!”

They left the room but not before Sam had glanced at the door to the bathroom, which was ajar; the gap providing a limited view of a pure white bathroom, accented in highly polished bronze or maybe it was copper. The bath had a ‘telephone’ style shower attachment.

“If you ever need to freshen up there’s a shower at the back of the garage.”

“That would be great.”

They headed for the kitchen and Daniel found beers.

“Are you finished for today?” he asked.

“What time is it? Four-thirty; I’ll get the turf up ready and I’ll order the skip.”

“Have your beer.”

“I’ll have it after.”

Sam turned to head out into the garden. At the door, Daniel said, “It’s not true what those bitches say about me.”

“I don’t listen ...”

An hour later, Sam had removed the turf and ordered the skip from Jeremy; the latter however had posed a difficulty.

“The skip lorry won’t get through the gate so he’ll have to leave it in the road for a week. Do you have to get permission?”

“Fuck knows! Probably. I’ll call the CUNTman and ask him. Perfect!”

Daniel scurried off to the office and Sam took his beer out into the garden, smiling to himself at the games these people played. He heard Daniel’s muffled tones and then the screeching began.

“You’re gonna give yourself a fucking heart attack if you ain’t careful old son,” Sam thought to himself as he listened.

“Do you want the FUCKING WEED removed or not? ... FINE! Then the skip has to stay in the road for a week ... IT WON’T GO THROUGH THE FUCKING GATE! ... A WEEK ... well, tell him to FUCK HIMSELF ... FUCK YOU!”

The handset landed on the lawn and Daniel followed it out.

“ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“All sorted then?” Sam asked, tongue in cheek.

“I try to do the right thing ... for fuck’s sake.”

“Try a diff ...

“I’m not bowing and scraping to that DICKHEAD! I have a good mind to tell him that next door is banging his wife; THE SLUT ... FUCKER!”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh and eventually Daniel did too.

“Where do you live then?”

“Mole Cottage on Common Lane.”

“I think I know it. It’s very ...”

“Small!”

“Tidy, I was going to say.”

“It’s Charles’ place. I’m renting it from him.”

“You on your own then?”

“Yeah; situation normal!”

“Why do you say that?”

“Guys want some preened underwear model not green fingers with soil under the nails.”

“Some might but not all, surely.”

“I only seem to meet the ones that do.”

This little impromptu exchange had answered Daniel’s question about Sam. He, Sam, didn’t know for sure about Daniel. His preferences were much gossiped over but no one had seen him with anyone.

“I’m gonna put a pizza in; do you want some?”

“Love some, thanks! Why are you on your own then?”

“Guys want some preened underwear model, not some loud-mouthed, ill-behaved Barbara Cartland wannabee.”

“Some might but not all, surely.”

“Pizza; there’s a salad too.”

“Perfect! I might grab a shower then.”

“Help yourself. Clean towels in the cupboard as you walk in.”

Daniel disappeared into the kitchen and Sam investigated the shower at the back of the garage. The room, possibly once a pantry or a utility room had been converted into a wet room. It was completely tiled in grey and accented in silver.

“Very nice!”

Sam entered the room, noticing a bench seat and wall hooks to his right and the cupboard Daniel had mentioned to his left. In one corner of the room was the shower where a huge rose was suspended above a wooden slatted platform, hiding the drain beneath. In the opposing corner were the toilet and a hand basin, above which hung a huge circular mirror. The lighting in the room was provided by the LED spotlights sunk into the ceiling.

Sam took his boots off before stepping inside the room and closing the door. He slipped off his shorts and underwear, hanging them up on the wall hooks. Padding over to the toilet, he caught sight of himself in the mirror above the sink and noticed a fresh tan line.

“Get that protection out, Sam.” he said quietly to himself.

He thought he looked leaner than usual. A ‘hungry wolf’ was how Vanessa described him. The arms and legs moved easily; a ‘lollop’ was probably a good description. His chest was a little hairy and already turning golden in the sun. The hair swirled around his nipples and produced an arrow-shaped patch between his pecs. From the tip of the arrow, a line of hair extended down to the abdomen which was fuzzy. The privet hedge was untrimmed and his balls were like a coconut. Sam liked hairy men; especially men with hairy bollocks and furry arses. He didn’t go much on back hair or facial hair.

He padded back to the shower and was instantly drenched by the rose that delivered a monsoon. Finding shower gel within reach, he lathered up big time and even washed his hair; ‘the mop’ as it was habitually referred to. He even scrubbed his feet and after a day in the boots it was like sex. He was thoroughly rinsing when the door opened an inch and Daniel hollered, “It’s only me. Do you drink wine?”

“Yeah; red or white.”

“The dog is looking at me strangely.”

“She’s hungry. I’ll sort her out in a tick.”

The door closed and Sam towelled off, dragging the shorts back on to exit the shower room and hunt for clean clothes in the back of the van. He found the bag, which he kept just in case he got absolutely filthy or soaking wet. He changed in the garage and pushed his feet into an old pair of trainers. He lobbed the dirty clothes into the back of the van and picked up Maggie’s bowl and rations, which he carried round the back. The patio table was set for dinner.

“Wow!”

He plonked Maggie’s bowl down and dispensed the food, giving her the ‘ok’ command. Daniel emerged from the kitchen with two glasses of wine, white, and judging by the glasses, chilled.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

They eyed each other for a few seconds before Sam said, “You didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”

“It wasn’t any, not really. I hate eating ...”

“Leave the ‘hate’ behind.”

“I love sharing food and wine.”

“Better! I’m hungry.”

“I bet. Pizza won’t be long.”

The silence was conspicuous but not uncomfortable, as if both knew where this would lead eventually and marking time was somehow polite; though Sam didn’t presume anything because his ‘don’t fuck the employer’ rule was a hard and fast one. The pizza got served and the wine glasses got topped up.

“Tell me about you,” demanded Daniel.

“Oh, god, what do ...?”

“Okay; where were you born?”

“Hexham.”

“You’re not local?”

Sam went on to paint the picture; the same one he always painted, the simple truth.

His mother had been fifteen when she’d had him. She put him up for adoption and an older couple in Hersham had taken him. He’d knocked around with the regular crowd but having older parents was always a little difficult and there hadn’t been much money either. His mother had died relatively young and his father had needed some care as a consequence of emphysema. It kept Sam at home when everyone else was heading off to get good jobs.

They were all coming back now and found him just as they had left him, albeit he was in the cottage these days. With the exception of Marshy and Liz, everyone else eyed him with benign contempt; unless the garden needed doing and then it was all pally-pally, to get the ‘old buddy’ discount.

He’d always done gardening; it suited him. Marshy, like him, hadn’t moved away and had parents of the same age. Liz was a newish friend, not from the area and originally they’d met when she’d wanted the garden sorted.

Daniel listened intently, occasionally topping up their glasses and lighting one cigarette after another.

“Not very interesting; certainly not as interesting as you,” suggested Sam.

“Why do you say that? Because of this? This was my parents’ house. I only moved in five years ago.”

“You’re a writer.”

“A recent occupation. I used to manage big IT projects for large companies. My firm down-sized and I lost my job. I started writing to avoid going completely mad; it took off, relatively speaking.”

“There you go; more interesting.”

“People and places, that’s all it is; the guy next door is an ambassador, but he’s still a CUNT!”

Sam chuckled.

“Did you have a boyfriend?”

“Up to the point that the job ended. I used the opportunity to have a good clear out!”

“No-one since?”

“Casual. I can’t tolerate the bullshit and one Princess in the Palace is enough! Hard as it is to believe, I just want the quiet life. What about you?”

“Boyfriend? No-one long term. I always felt I was apologising for everything.”

“Did your parents know that you were gay?”

“Yeah, from pretty early on. We never talked about it. The black hole in our Universe.”

“I told mine but we rarely spoke about it; but I didn’t let them ignore it. Do you want a coffee?”

“Please.”

Daniel went into the kitchen to make the coffee, leaving Sam to chew on some thoughts. It never did to regret the decisions you’d made; it had been a choice to stay; partly out of obligation, mostly out of fear of the unknown.

Things weren’t too bad now and in fact they were looking a bit rosier than of late. All his friends were getting divorced; at least he’d saved himself that hassle.

Daniel came back with the coffee.

“This might sound a little presumptuous, but, if this job is going to take a few days, why don’t you stay? Driving back and forth seems pointless and what you gonna do at home; just crash. Unless you’ve got things to do, of course...”

“I’m attempting, pitifully, to write something. My pal Liz suggested it. She’s a really good author.”

“What’s her name, her author’s name?”

“Liz Binbrook.”

“Oh, yes; I know her work. She’s pretty much sown up her niche.”

“She said she’d help me edit the story once I had something.”

“Do you have something?”

“Not really. I pick it to death every night.”

“Bring it over; maybe I can help.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Well, if I’m going to stay, I'll need to go back and get some stuff.”

“Go now before it gets too late.”

“What about the dog?”

“Will she sleep in the garage?”

“In her own basket she’d sleep on the runway at Heathrow!”

“Fine then.”

“Do I need to bring bedding and stuff?”

“No; guest room is made up.”

“Right; I’ll whip home and then I need to walk the dog.”

“Give me her lead and I’ll walk her down to the pond and back.”

“Jesus! That’s beyond the call of duty.”

“Nonsense; she’s a dog not a fucking carthorse!”

Sam was going to ask ‘you sure?’ one more time but thought better of it. Maggie looked confused until the lead made an appearance. Sam headed home. He packed the essentials, grabbed the fresh stuff out of the fridge and stuffed the laptop in its bag. Somewhat nonplussed but almost entirely at ease with the situation, he headed back to Daniel’s. By the time he got back, Daniel was just returning with the dog.

“That’ll give Pat something to gossip about!”

“You and a dog?”

“Me and your dog!”

“It’s no one else’s business.”

“I couldn’t agree more but they make it their business; like I’m anyone important.”

“You don’t fit; single, well-off and abrasive.”

“My parents never had the trouble I have.”

“They played by the rules.”

“Yes, they did, but they weren’t any happier for it.”

“You don’t and you’re no happier.”

“Not that unhappy. Anyway, I’m getting interested in the garden!”

“Not the gardener,” Sam mused.

“Gardening is good therapy; you should grow things to eat.”

“My father did; there’s a greenhouse somewhere.”

“At the end of the garden and in a pretty sorry state.”

“Sort it then.”

“I brought the laptop.”

“Excellent! I’ve delivered so I have time. Give it to me tomorrow.”

“It’s just a stupid ...”

“I’ll be the judge of that. It’s all in the editing. Liz is right and she’s highly respected for her attention to detail. What’s it called?”

“... 'Service Included’ ...”

“Main theme?”

“Holiday romance.”

“Gay or straight?”

“Gay.”

“Tomorrow. Right; I’ll show you the guest room.”

Sam trailed Daniel back through the house and upstairs to the farthest room from the top of the stairs.

“I like this room because it’s on the corner and has windows on two sides. Bathroom is opposite. If you need anything just shout.”

“Thanks! This is great ... and really good of you.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I’m just gonna sort out Maggie.”

Sam returned downstairs to put Maggie’s basket in the garage. He closed the garage door and having filled her water bowl from the sink in the shower room, he settled her down before exiting the garage through a side door leading directly into the hall.

He caught sight of Daniel in the office, gleefully dictating a letter to himself, which he was banging out on his laptop.

“Your Eminence; far be it from me to question the decision of the committee ... however, I feel it must be brought to your attention that ... oh, you are gonna so wish you’d never written that letter ... on the subject of garden maintenance, the articles clearly state that ... ‘a property owner may, under article 17, apply to the Resident’s Fund for a contribution to remove Knotweed, if, said weed can be identified as having been caused by the negligence of another property owner’. My investigations have thus far identified three other properties that have Knotweed. These infestations ... yes, good word! ... appear to be long standing judging by the size of the plants ...”

Sam smiled and headed up to his room, suddenly feeling very tired; no doubt the result of the wine he’d drunk and it having been a long day.

Having already showered, he just cleaned his teeth and changed into a pair of boxer shorts to sleep in. He turned out the main light and then remembered he hadn’t closed the curtains. He stepped up to the window to close them and glanced out for a second. Something caught his eye; a movement and a light. It was the security guard opposite, patrolling the perimeter of the property. Sam had asked Daniel who lived there and had learned that as far as Daniel knew it was a Qatari businessman. He’d never spoken to him.

The evening was warm and the room was warmer than he liked. He nudged open a window a little and stripped the bed of the quilted cover before slipping under the duvet. Flicking off the bedside light plunged the room into darkness save for the strip of light at the foot of the door coming in from the landing. Soon after he heard Daniel’s door open then the landing light went out and the door closed.

Chapter Three – Gardening, uphill and down dale

Sam slept solidly despite being in a strange bed and unaccustomed to the noises that the house made. Perhaps it had been Maggie’s demand to go out at six o’clock that had woken him momentarily; but he could have dreamt that. Daniel’s knock and the door opening certainly wasn’t a dream but the sight of tea certainly was!

“It’s seven-thirty; I hope it’s not too early.”

“With tea on a tray? Don’t apologise; this is like a hotel!”

“I’m always up early and I heard Maggie moaning, so I let her out before settling her back into the garage again.”

“Thanks! You know how to spoil a guest and I’m not really a guest...”

“Yes you are; of course you are. You’re working in the garden; it doesn’t make you a ... a ...”

“Employee?”

“No; you’re helping me out.”

Sam levered himself up to sit with his back against the headboard and accepted the cup of tea.

“What are you wearing?” he asked Daniel.

“It’s a sarong. I saw them in Thailand. When I lost the job I went there for a break and did a massage course, thinking it might be useful; I’ve never used it. The sarong was worn by a lot of the men out there; it’s very cool in the summer.”

“Is it made of silk?”

“This one is made from the spun fibre of the common nettle. It’s grown organically and the garments are made by a community in Nepal and fair-traded.”

“Wow!”

“What, too grungy?”

“No! It’s just ... unexpected.”

“In a place like Esher? I couldn’t agree more. These bastards buy fair-trade because all of their friends do; not because they give a shit about the farmers.”

“Do you?”

“Actually, yes; and I know that sounds pretentious but it’s true.”

Sam just nodded and sipped the tea which was perfectly brewed.

“You’ve got a hairy chest,” Daniel noted, completely out of the blue.

“I have; I like hair. Oh shit, this is gonna sound lame; it’s manly and I like ‘men’.”

“I’m naturally hair-free.”

Sam’s none too covert appraisal of the bare-chested tea bearer apparently told Daniel that Sam thought he was possibly the exception to the rule; and he couldn’t have agreed more!

“Do you work out?”

“A bit.”

Sam thought probably a lot more than Daniel was admitting to.

“I sometimes go swimming but usually I’m too tired,” pleaded Sam.

“I can imagine; anyway, you don’t need to work out.”

“I guess ...”

The dialogue bubble returned, empty, waiting for the invisible pen to coin the next phrase.

“Are you hairy in other places?”

Sam smiled broadly and Daniel saw a different face, the less serious face, the less worried face.

“On my stomach but not on my back. A fair amount on my arms and legs.”

“It’s changing colour in the sun.”

“Yeah, and best to slap protection on now; it’s nice to have the tan but Marshy’s already had three moles zapped off because of it.”

“He’s a buddy?”

“Yeah; best buddy, since we were kids.”

Daniel had been standing at the side of the bed, still holding the tray. He put it down on the dressing table which was within reach and loitered.

“You can sit down if you want; I don’t bite!”

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, his upper body turned towards Sam who was smiling and sipping the tea.

“Could you show me the hair on your stomach, do you think?”

Sam spluttered, “Haven’t you seen enough of it then?”

“Oh, it’s true that I saw it yesterday because you had taken your shirt off but you donned the shirt so quickly that I wasn't able to have a proper look.”

Sam grinned like a teenager whilst Daniel maintained the mask of seriousness albeit the veneer was pretty thin and the smile was shining in his eyes if not playing out on his lips.

“Was there any special reason you wanted to see it?”

“It’ll answer a question; and that’s all I’m prepared to say at this time.”

Sam put his cup on the bedside cabinet and pushed the duvet down to display the wares that were so keenly sought after. The edge of the duvet sat on the waistband of the boxers; everything beneath the line hidden as if covered by dust sheets; the empty rooms, eerily quiet, sun lit by day, abandoned to the darkness at night.

“Yes, that answers the question. It’s kind of fuzzy isn’t it?”

“I’m probably a throwback ...”

“To what, the first ape?”

“No, you fool. My real Father although I don’t know who he was; and my real Mother who never told anyone apparently; could have been Mediterranean or even from the Caribbean.”

“Your skin isn’t naturally dark.”

“Strong North East genes!”

“Evidently! So, that answered a question and I wondered if I could ask another.”

“Go on then!”

“You said your back was hairless but what about your arse, and for that matter, your pubes; sparse or hedge?”

“Hedge! Furry and definitely not sparse.”

“Could I see?”

This light-hearted and pretty juvenile play had brought them to the point of crossing the line; it felt entirely ‘right’ as far as Daniel was concerned but perhaps Sam harboured a little reluctance.

“You know, Daniel, if this goes any further we’re over that line.”

“I know, and I want to be over that line. I saw you and I had a feeling like nothing I’d ever had before.”

“What feeling?”

“Strangely it was, ‘will he like me?’”

Sam’s eyes widened and he raised the corner of his mouth and frowned. These words he’d never heard.

“I do like you; you’re funny and you never stop moving and you scream at people and smoke and like dogs and write books and you’re slim and wear a skirt and you’re genuine and ...”

“Stop! What you see is what you get.”

“I doubt that.”

The mood descended on them like heavy, fluffy snowflakes, spinning and settling, one cushioning the fall of the next. They became aware of the fact that they weren’t talking anymore, just breathing steadily.

“I don’t have any body hair.”

Sam didn’t answer and pushed the duvet all the way down so that the thighs and groin within the boxer shorts were laid bare; a field of snow and the fly of the boxers, which had no fastening, was slightly open, hinting at the hedgerow that would spring into life once the thaw started.

“I’ve got enough for the two of us!”

“Show me ...”

As elegantly as possible, Sam pushed the boxers down and Daniel couldn’t help himself in the end, tugging at them to assist in the process, like he was eagerly opening birthday or Christmas presents.

Daniel blushed.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful; like ... someone made you with real love and devotion.”

Sam blushed.

“Shush ...”

“Can I kiss your thighs?”

“Yes ...” and the voice was like snow, thick in his throat and clogging the guttering.

Daniel leaned over and placed a kiss on Sam’s left thigh, the nearest one to him. He smelled the shower gel he knew Sam had found in the shower room, mixed with Sam; faint hint of tobacco, clean sex, the essential oil of Sam Taylor. He kissed again and then kissed the other. Sam’s cock bucked quite wildly. Daniel stood up and then climbed onto the bed, kneeling astride Sam’s lower legs, placing a hand on each thigh, just about where he’d kissed them at the mid-point; the most muscular part as it happened. He leaned forward, supporting himself on his hands and lowered his head to kiss the furry apple of Sam’s sack. It was hot but not sweaty. The hair caressed his lips but didn’t tickle like he thought it would; a hundred little fingertips pressed against his lips. Sam breathed out forcibly and shifted slightly. His cock had grown quickly and swung out of Daniel’s way but ached to be touched. A moan made it through the snow like a valiant sledge dog.

“Daniel ...”

“I don’t want to take this too quickly; just say stop if you want.”

Sam didn’t want and Daniel continued to kiss Sam’s sack and nuzzle it with his lips. They inched enticingly to the base of the shaft which was reasonably thick. With his lips barely touching the base, his chin rested on the mound of the scrotum and it felt to him that he’d never been closer to anyone before. He kissed along the shaft, parting his lips very slightly but not wetting the skin with his tongue. The skin was warm and soft, like a peach. As he crept slowly up he closed his eyes to focus on the feeling and give himself the thrill of finding his lips on the head; the slick glassy head that was swollen and red. When he found his lips on the tiny opening he popped his tongue out; instantly his mouth and nose were full of the taste and scent of sex.

“Daniel ... I can’t ...”

Sensing that if he teased any more, Sam would go off the boil, he widened his mouth and took the head in, swallowing almost immediately to free his own throat of the imaginary obstruction. He sank, pushing the head across his tongue; swallowing again, he let it slip deeper and fill all of the available space. A restrained thrust pushed it past the point where he would normally gag; he didn’t but the pressure was a little uncomfortable. He pulled back to take a breath.

“Daniel ...”

He pulled right back and looked along the body to the face which was etched with a kind of pain and sadness.

“I want you inside me.”

Daniel straightened up a little and Sam pushed his hand in and under the edge of the sarong which lay across his thighs to feel the hard peg that promised to pin all of his hopes and dreams to the sticking place. Daniel untied the sarong and let it fall behind him. Pushing himself up a little, Daniel gave Sam room to draw his legs up and back to tilt his buttocks and present the hairy crack that held the dark, swirling ring of jet black hair; a black jewel, a deep well. It fascinated Daniel as much as anything else. He looked down at his own cock and let his spittle fall from his lips to lubricate the head.

“Go in slow.”

Daniel flashed his eyes up to Sam’s face and he smiled, “Oh, don’t worry; I want to feel it!”

There was something primeval or animalistic about pushing his cock into the black hole; it gave Daniel a buzz just thinking about the spittle wetting the hair that would stick to his cock head and slide over it. Why in the past had he never thought about the pleasure this could bring; men in their elemental state, exploring the dark, cloaked places; real places, not the shaved and waxed sterility of beauty salons.

He pushed very slowly and felt, perhaps for the first time, the sensation of actually penetrating a man; neither anaesthetized by latex nor gliding in on lube. Cheated of the sensation and denied the pleasure he realised, but no longer. Sam was groaning, partly out of pain it was true. Daniel was a prize bull and though he was slim everywhere else, his cock was thick and as hard as ice; ice that burned; burned but not cauterized, burned and awakened. The pin pushed into the cork of the board and he knew his hopes and dreams were held fast.

As Daniel eased in, he lowered his body to press his skin against the hair of Sam’s chest and abdomen; animal instincts took over. Bringing his mouth to meet Sam’s, they kissed light into the darkness and Daniel bucked like a bullock. Sam preferred to be fucked, to be dominated. The body suggested he would be more assertive; it wasn’t the case. The last guy he had seen for a while had called him ‘an empty vessel’; that had stung.

They were both getting off on it and it wasn’t going to be a long, drawn out fuck; they didn’t need it to be. Daniel hammered away and within a few minutes he was already beginning to feel the surge.

“Sam! I’m gonna cum ...”

Sam gripped him tighter and kissed him deeper. Daniel shot his load; a rapid succession of searing hot missiles that demolished the house they had built and would re-build endlessly.

He didn’t want to leave; he wanted to stay buried forever. He remained harder for longer than usual but eventually he slipped out. Sam was gaping a bit and leaking. His hair was slick and glistening. Daniel couldn’t help himself and he had to kiss the centre of the Universe he wanted to inhabit. No one had ever wanted to delve down there so Sam was a little nervous but as soon as Daniel’s tongue started to press around the bruised petals of his bud he got hard again, having subsided in the pounding. Daniel moved from Universe to adjacent galaxy and got a throat full of stars.

“This tea’s gone cold.”

“You fucking chee ...”

Fresh tea and a cigarette; a borrowed sarong and a happy dog playing in the garden; a day underway and another night ahead.

The boys were on the patio discussing the project; eyes begging to be told, ‘Is it true; you do like me?’

“If you don’t mind me saying, this is going to take longer than a couple of days; for starters, you’ve gotta wheel the soil all the way down the drive to the skip ... how do you get it in the skip?”

“I’ll build a ramp up.”

“Oh, yeah; but still, wheeling it all the way down, and it’s heavy!”

“I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“No; we’ll do it together.”

“Together?”

“Why not? It is my soil after all.”

“Yeah; but you’re paying me.”

“I wanna work and get hot and stinky and feel muscles that I didn’t know I had ... I want to be close to you, smell the sweat as you pass me, watch your arse in those shorts, watch them get darker as they soak up the sweat and I can imagine you’ve cum.”

“Perhaps I should be charging more!”

Daniel just grinned.

“I have to pop out and do a little shopping; I’ll be back at around 10 o’clock and then I’ll come and help. I haven’t forgotten that I promised to read the story.”

“You didn’t promise and you don’t have to.”

“I want to. What time is the skip coming?”

“Jeremy said 11.”

“Well, let’s go shopping together.”

“I don’t want to leave Maggie alone.”

“Bring her and we’ll use the van.”

That was the plan after a light breakfast and a quick shower. As far as Sam was concerned, the best bit was drawing up outside the newsagent’s and popping in to get tobacco for himself and cigarettes for Daniel.

“Who’s that in the van with you, Sam?” asked Dolly.

“Daniel Harding.”

“You mean ...?”

“Yeah, the chew up and spit out Daniel Harding that everyone thinks is a complete bastard; everyone except me.”

“You an’ ...”

“... him? Yeah!”

They got back and found Jeremy arguing with a man outside of the gates. The skip delivery truck was in position but hadn’t yet unloaded.

“Sam; I thought you said you had permission.”

“We do.”

“This guy says not.”

“Who are you?” Daniel asked of the guy who looked like a bank manager; and there were plenty of those in Esher.

“My name is Habib Solomon; I manage the property there,” he replied, pointing to the house opposite.

“I have permission; from the Cu ... Chairman of the Association.”

“The skip cannot stay here; we have important guests. It will look like a building site.”

“Oh please; one skip, you’re joking. In any event, it’s being delivered and it will be here for a week; end of conversation. The Japanese Knotweed in my garden has to be removed and that’s an order from the Association. If you have a problem with that, then talk to Commander Morton. I’m doing what the Association demands in cases where Knotweed is discovered.”

“There is a function here; a lot of guests ...”

“Well, we could cover it with a tarp’ when it’s not being used; how about that?” interjected Sam.

“It will restrict access.”

“Nonsense; there’s plenty of room to drive past and it will be lit at night.”

The guy turned and went back to the house opposite and Daniel gave Jeremy the order to unload the skip.

“We’ll cover it at night and light it. What the fuck is wrong with these people? You’d think we were storing fucking nuclear waste.”

The boys and Jeremy had a coffee and then Jeremy unloaded the skip. Whilst Daniel was reading Sam’s story, Sam built the ramp and sorted the wheelbarrow. By now it was noon and hot so the digging and humping took on a slower pace but the job got started and pretty soon the system was working in that Sam had an area broken up whilst Daniel wheeled the barrow to the skip. When he returned with the empty barrow, Sam had another pile of loose earth and stone ready to shovel in. There was a lot of root and it hampered progress. By three o’clock they’d shifted twenty barrow loads and had the area cleared to a depth of ten centimetres all over with the worst of the roots either extracted or exposed. Daniel made the tea.

“We’ve made a good start,” announced Sam.

“Perhaps we should have ordered a digger.”

“Would still have needed to move it by hand to the skip though and the digger would have chewed up the rest of the lawn.”

“True; I’m enjoying it anyway.”

“What did you think of the story?”

“I haven’t finished reading it through for the first time yet. I like the main character, the English guy on holiday. Why have you struggled with it; is it because you can’t decide how it ends?”

“Basically.”

“Then decide; what are you really trying to say to the reader?”

“He’s lonely and depressed; the guy he meets offers him something and he doesn’t know if he can trust him; he doesn’t want to get hurt.”

“At the end of the day, he has to be prepared to take a chance and risk getting hurt or stay lonely and depressed; give him hope.”

“I didn’t have any to give him.”

Daniel suddenly found tears in his eyes and he didn’t know why it had happened. His heart had swelled and his throat felt constricted.

“What?” asked Sam.

“That’s ... oh, shit ... uhm; you’re just so ... oh, God what am I trying to say?”

Sam looked down and didn’t know either.

“You’re beautiful and I hope you feel that you have hope now.”

“I haven’t felt like this, ever; that there was any chance I’d have someone in my life.”

“There’s more than a chance; it’s a reality.”

“Do you mean you want more?”

“Lots more; all you've got; and you can have all I've got.”

“You mean it?”

And it was Sam’s turn to blink rapidly and blame the sweat for running into his eyes and making them sting.

“I mean it. Please stay.”

“What about stuff?”

“We’ll get it in the van ...”

“No; I meant like ...”

“Money and bills?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“Let’s take it one day at a time. You know, I’m done with the relationships that need treaties signed before they can begin. I want proper romance and true love.”

“What’s in that tea?”

“Don’t you want to love someone and know that they love you?”

“More than anything in the world.”

“Then the rest doesn’t matter.”

“We met, like, the day before yesterday.”

“So?”

The question didn’t need to be answered; the kiss did it for them.

Progress on the garden slowed for the rest of the afternoon in direct proportion to the amount of time they spent, for a time, just holding each other, gently rubbing their hands up and down each other’s backs, heads resting on shoulders, lips pressed gently to warm and earth stained skin. Sam suggested that if they stood still long enough they’d take root.

Work was halted at around 6pm and they covered the skip with the tarp’ that Jeremy had left them and set out the lights that came on after dusk automatically. The security guard scrutinised them closely for a while and then dragged the dogs off and was lost from sight.

“What say you we get cleaned up and go to the pub for dinner? I for one have no energy to cook.”

“Sure; I’d like that. We could walk down to The Swan and take Maggie with us.”

“Let’s get showered then; and now you know why I had the shower installed in the garage.”

“Just for me?”

“Yes, Princess; just for you!” Daniel jested, tongue in cheek.

“Princess?”

“Such the girlie princess.”

“Covered in grime, running in sweat, balls like a baked potato, stinking worse than the dog ...”

“Yeah, like I say; such the girlie princess ... if you’re not too long in the shower there might be time to do your nails before we go out.”

“Cheeky bastard; I don’t ...”

“Catch me if you can, Samuella!”

Their raillery carried them to the shower and just before Sam was going to dive under, Daniel caught his arm gently and pulled him close. Sam had a patch of grime on his cheek. Daniel pressed his lips to the patch, tasting it with the tip of his tongue; the sweat and earth intoxicated him and he wanted to taste it all. He began licking and nuzzling into sweaty corners with his nose and then his mouth. His cock grew and was painfully hard within seconds, as was Sam’s. After he’d finished delving into the pits of Sam’s arms, his head full of that scent; he dived to the groin and pressed his face in, gorging himself on hair and skin; he ate his balls, the forbidden apple in this garden and abandoned himself to pleasure.

“Turn round and bend over,” he demanded.

“You’re gonna ...”

He did.

They showered and saved the fuck for later; knowing that there would be later, there would be always now; no end, just the now and forever. If they’d tasted the forbidden fruit and were cast out they neither knew nor cared. The garden was theirs.

Chapter Four – Paradise on Earth

Walking out with Maggie, they checked the tarp’ and the lights. The security guard opposite just ignored them; not so the black Mercedes that swept out of the drive and threw up a dust cloud which engulfed them.

“FUCKING CUNT!”

Sam turned his head to avoid the worst getting into his eyes and saw the security guard laughing. Unlike Daniel who vented his spleen in the most vocal of ways, Sam just glared and marked the guy’s card for a time when the fence wasn’t between them.

By the time they got to the pub they had rediscovered the bliss and landed like two exotic birds of paradise amidst the regulars, who knew them both, leaving gawps right up to the bar like a line of Aunt Sallys waiting for the beanbags to be thrown. Pat was serving.

“Sam ...”

“Two pints, Pat, please.”

“Right you are, duck. You eating?”

“That was the plan.”

“Special tonight is the enchiladas.”

“Daniel?”

“Sounds good; spicy meat, just the way I like it.”

Sam just shook his head. Still, it wasn’t Daniel’s reserve and coyness that attracted him was it?

“We’ll be outside, Pat,” Sam informed her handing over the money in exchange for an order number that was stencilled on a wooden spoon. They exited and found a table under the pergola, parking Maggie, who’d waited by the door, under the table with her chew treat.

“Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“I’ll order the turf from Jeremy; he’ll give us a good price.”

“Okay. What about the greenhouse?”

“Need some new glass and maybe some decent shelving. I’ll sort it after the turf’s down and get some seeds in.”

“Seeds in; sounds good,” smirked Daniel.

“Jesus, you!”

“Blame yourself; I was quite happy looking at it from the office window before you started pulling my weeds out.”

“Two enchiladas,” called out Diane.

“Over here, Diane,” announced Sam, happy for the respite from the innuendo, knowing everyone was straining to listen to the conversation between the two men.

“There you go; enjoy your meal!”

“Thanks, Diane.”

They tucked in, ravenously hungry after the day they’d had.

“Do you want to go away this summer?” asked Daniel.

“Uhm, hadn’t thought; probably wouldn’t have and there’s Maggie, though Liz would have her, or Marshy.”

“Think on then, ‘cos I always take a break.”

“Where did you plan to go?”

“Bhutan.”

“Which is?”

“In the Himalayas; Buddhist paradise on Earth.”

“Right; sounds ...”

“Expensive?”

“Yes.”

“I guess we have to sort that out else we’re gonna fall foul of the first rule of relationships.”

“What’s the first rule?”

“Daniel gets his own way else he throws a hissy fit.”

“Ah, that rule.”

“Which can be bent but never broken. I know it’s important to feel we’re contributing equally but that’s a matter of deciding what value we place on things. If you look after the garden, the house and do all the cooking then I say we’re about even.”

“Oh really! And don’t forget ironing your shirts.”

“Yes, don’t forget them or servicing my ...”

“Daniel!”

“Car ...”

“And all this for a trip to Buddha Butlins.”

“All this in exchange for happy ever after.”

In the dusk under the pergola, lit by candles, with the scent of honeysuckle and roses pervading the air, it was the most romantic moment Sam could ever remember. His eyes were glistening and a smile broke out like the sun emerging from behind a cloud for the first time.

“One day at a time.”

“One day at a time, happy ever after.”

After sinking a dessert of red fruits under a crisp almond biscuit topped with crème fraiche garnished with mint, they relaxed into the coffee, whiskey and cigarette phase.

“The way we went today, that soil will be all done tomorrow I reckon.”

“Perhaps Jeremy can pick the slip up earlier than planned, to appease the cuntmaster that inhabits opposite.”

“Daniel! Language.”

“Sorry, the cuntmaster who lives in the house opposite.”

“My dad would have skinned me alive if he’d heard me use that word.”

“So would mine. Was it easier with your dad in his later years?”

“Uhm, when he really needed help, like with everything, I think he finally realised that it wasn’t a choice and if I loved him enough to wipe his arse then perhaps he could love me for being who I am.”

“Too little, too late?”

“I guess; but at least he said it.”

“Whilst I’m thinking about it, invite Liz over soon.”

“Oh, sure; she’d love to meet you.”

“And I’d like to meet her and Marshy.”

“That’s pretty domestic.”

“You’re cooking but there is a dishwasher.”

“Will you condescend to make the coffee?”

“Might; can’t promise.”

Sam was chuckling away; these theatricals were very endearing and made Daniel appear even sexier.

They got ready to leave and Sam popped back to say goodnight to Pat. In the doorway of the main pub he met the security guard from opposite who simply pushed past him with an evil little smirk on his lips.

“Easy, pal.”

No response and Sam knew the guy was goading him. Despite his dad’s threat he couldn’t help himself.

“Fucking cunt.”

He re-joined Daniel and they sauntered back with Maggie.

Sam settled her in the garage and returned via the kitchen door; Daniel handed him a glass of water.

“What are you smiling to yourself about?” Sam queried.

“Uhm, we’re going to be sleeping together for the first time tonight.”

“Oh, I’m sorry; that’s moving a little too fast for me.”

Sam just managed to keep the voice deadpan and the face was a mask of virginal innocence.

“Oh, right ... I just thought that ... you evil shit.”

“A pack of snarling wolves wouldn’t keep me from your bed tonight!”

“Fortunately there are none in Esher as far as I know.”

There was a brief pause; like a window in Heaven had been opened.

“I’m falling in love with you, Daniel.”

The words spun in the air like dust motes on a lazy Sunday afternoon; a lazy Sunday afternoon in Heaven’s sitting room, illuminated by the shaft of light liberated by that same window. It wasn’t an awkward pause or like shattered glass on the kitchen floor; though there was shattered glass on the kitchen floor; the pieces of the tumbler that had fallen from Daniel’s hand in his haste to get to Sam as quickly as possible, perhaps convinced that the kiss was necessary to lock in the moment before it escaped.

“Sam ...”

“I know it’s crazy ...”

“It’s not crazy; it’s fucking crazy! And there was I wondering if you actually liked me two days ago.”

“Do you ...do you think that you’ll...”

“Sam ... I love you. You were braver than me. I had myself in knots trying to find the right moment.”

“If we’re in love, then ...”

“I won’t make you get up and make the tea every day; just week days.”

“Daniel ...”

They cleaned up the glass and shared the news with Maggie who promptly got moved into the sun room.

They made love, slowly and sensually, fucking for hours; their orgasms billowing like clouds, unfurling like the blooms of roses, ripening like hands of grapes; an endless field of wheat, a golden sea, perpetually in motion; two men in love, tilling, sowing and harvesting; bronzed, gleaming bodies that turned like the wheel of the combine, the metal parts glinting in the sun and which the dust turned red.

Chapter Five – Glory hole

Daniel woke at around 6am as a rule and today was no exception. He slipped out and padded downstairs to put the kettle on and let Maggie out. Once the tea was made and Maggie had come back in, he took the tray back to bed. Sam slept heavily as a rule, waking at around 7:30. Daniel lay just looking at him breathe, watching the eye lids flutter as he dreamed.

Samuel lay on his back; his arms in an untidy arrangement up above his head, exposing the pits; the birds’ nests. The scent was enticing and drew Daniel closer; he was becoming addicted to it and would ban deodorant from now on. He skimmed the surface with his nose but it tickled so he pressed a little harder. Earth and metal, the blade of the shovel cleaving the sods. He pressed in and breathed deeply; with his eyes closed he wondered if this was how the roots in the soil felt? His ‘root’ was in a perpetual state of arousal around Sam; he gripped it tightly, like the handle of the spade and a little puff of ecstasy escaped from his lips.

He moved his lips from the nest to the edge of the chest and circled the nipple following the near perfect swirl of hair. The nipple was hard, perhaps in response to the cooler air or maybe Sam himself was getting aroused. Daniel slipped a hand down and found Sam’s ‘root’, the tap root which connected him to Space; perhaps that was what they were, tap roots feeding on Creation; everyone’s cock forming a web of roots that made it all possible. The cock was hard, ‘morning wood’; how appropriate was that description?

He quirked his lips as they were pressed to flesh, admiring his own poetry. Poetry was not his trademark; he wrote straight romances, pretty simple love stories and occasionally a hard core gay novella that he published under a different name.

He sensed his blood heating and flushing his chest. He kissed the nipple and moved over to kiss the patch of hair between Sam’s pecs. It was fine hair, laid flat and like silk. He turned his head and laid his cheek on Sam’s abdomen. Strange gurgles made him smile. Without conscious thought, the fist he had wrapped around Sam’s cock clenched and unclenched, eliciting a soft murmur, although there appeared to be little danger of awakening the sleeping satyr.

He let go and moved the duvet down to unveil the garden; herbaceous borders around a strong, young oak. The hair was fuzzy but curlier too. It was like a coil of silk that had dropped into his lap; a skein of silk which had fallen away from the wooden bobbin.

“Fuck; I can’t wait!”

He dived on it, driven to near madness by the smell and the prospect of getting his mouth full of the root that leaked sap. Sam groaned more loudly and shifted. Daniel felt a hand land on his head. The languid suck became a desperate feeding frenzy as the invisible energy flowing between them was ratcheted up a few notches.

Daniel couldn’t help himself; he pushed the cock deeper and sucked harder, letting his saliva run out from between his lips to varnish the wood.

“Daniel ...”

“My Prince awakens. I want him to fuck me ...”

He drew back and turned his head to look up at the face and watch the eyes open; the darkest green eyes he’d ever seen, flecked with gold, like flowering gorse. Sam’s eyes opened and Daniel caught them in his mischievous look, flicking his eyebrows, grinning like an imp.

“Morning, Princess ...”

“Morning ...”

“I was just getting on with the gardening.”

Sam smiled and shook his head.

“Do you need a hand?”

“This root’s a good one; it needs to be put back in.”

“Ah, right ...”

Sam was more bottom than top; Daniel was more top than bottom, so it worked but there were times when Daniel wanted to be fucked and this was one of them. Without giving Sam too long to think about, Daniel swung his leg over and sat astride the moss covered log, putting his hands on the mounds of Sam’s chest.

“Reach under my pillow; you’ll find the lube. Put a little on your fingers and work it into my hole.”

Sam cocked his eyebrow but did as he was told. This confidence of Daniel’s was contagious. He slicked up a couple of fingers and reached around the hips. Daniel thrust his buttocks up a little and reached back with one hand to spread himself open a little.

“Really ram them in,” he demanded.

Sam found the bud and hesitated. Daniel squirmed and Sam slipped two fingers in. He had big hands and long, strong fingers.

“Fuck me with them for a minute ... oh, FUCK ... that’s good.”

Not long after, he withdrew, sensing it was now or never; Daniel sensed it too and manoeuvred himself to claim the prize, driving down immediately to get past the initial stab. Sam bucked beneath him, somewhat constrained by Daniel’s weight on his legs. Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and tweaked his nipples, chewing his lower lip, eyes closed. Sam grasped the cock that was pointing up at him with both hands and with a little lube, massaged the naked head with his thumbs, brutally at times, squeezing it to open the slit which then resembled Daniel’s mouth, gaping and moist.

“Pull down on my balls, Sam!”

He grabbed the smooth sack which resembled two eggs in a silk sock; pulling almost savagely down.

“I’m gonna cu ...”

The load was ejected in hot spurts that landed on Sam’s chest and neck. The sight of the cum and Daniel’s clenching syphoned his own load out; bucking once he arched his back and released like someone had stamped on a tube of toothpaste.

Hot and heady he lowered his body slowly, feeling Daniel’s weight return and increase as he ground his hips.

“Holy shit, Daniel; I’m still cumming ...”

Sam grabbed the slim hips and held them tightly as he bucked out the last few drops of his load. Daniel landed on his chest and the petals of Daniel’s lips were on his own within a heartbeat.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too ...”

Daniel let Sam slip out, waiting a second or two for the load to dribble out down across his sack and into Sam’s groin which was already slick with lube and sweat. Then he ground his arse in like he was scouring a casserole dish.

“You fucking dirty dog!”

Daniel grinned impishly.

“I put the tea in thermos mugs,” Daniel announced proudly.

“Amazing ...”

“Not really; pretty simple in fact.”

“No; amazing what dogs will do for treats ...”

“Do you want to lick my arse?”

“Yes.”

Showered and un-deodorised, they headed for the kitchen to make breakfast and plonked themselves on the patio, finding they had real appetites.

“Gotta stock up before we start shifting that soil,” Daniel counselled sagely.

“Seriously, Daniel; you don’t need to help.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to pull a muscle or anything.”

“You’re doing the hardest bit. I couldn’t even lift up the pick axe let alone swing it all fucking day.”

“You won’t need to work-out this week,” Sam suggested.

“No; but who to show off to?”

“Maggie’s impressed.”

“Uhm, that hardly qualifies; and we know you are already ...”

“Am I?”

“So; maybe I have to call the police or the fire brigade; tell them that the house has been burgled or the gazebo’s ablaze.”

“You want a group of beefy blokes round to ogle your butt and praise your technique?”

“That’s what happens at the gym,” Daniel confided, “And we shower together and lather up our groins and cracks whilst our neighbours watch, completely unabashed.”

“You finish that soil today; I’m going to the gym!” Sam announced, springing up from his seat.

Daniel laughed out loud.

“We’ll go together in the future.”

Sam was finding it hard going to get his cock to settle for the day; perhaps it never would again.

The day did get under way and it was hot. Sam insisted that they both slap on the sun protection and wear a hat.

“Tell me about Marshy.”

“Oh, he lived next door. His Mum and Dad and my Mum and Dad moved in on the same day. When my parents got me he must have been about two years old. We played together all the time, especially once we started school ‘cos he got bullied; he’s got a club foot.”

“Oh, shit!”

“Yeah, well, you know kids. I used to stick up for him.”

“Did you ever, you know, have a thing going?”

“We were too afraid to be honest. I’m glad we never did because I think it would have fucked up the perfect friendship.”

“Ask him over.”

“I will; and Liz.”

The afternoon became a sweltering cauldron in the area of the garden where they were working and at 3pm Sam called a halt.

“Whoa, this is fierce; take a break or we’ll get heat stroke.”

“We’re almost done!”

“I know; another hour and we’ll have it all out.”

“Oh, it won’t take that long ...”

“About another hour ... uhm, you didn’t mean that.”

“Can you blame me? It’s like being sprayed with testosterone every time I walk past you.”

“What’s your next book about?” Sam asked, attempting to deflate the Lilo in his pants which had been hard all day.

“Uhm, a love affair between a boss and his secretary.”

“Do you write any other stuff?”

“Hard core gay porn under a different name.”

“I’m gonna try and publish my story myself.”

“I’m interested in seeing how it goes to be honest. I’m not getting a good deal from my publisher for the gay shorts; it could be good for me.”

“Liz does quite nicely by doing it herself.”

“I want to talk to her about it; but, the work to publicise the work shouldn’t be underestimated. I bet she spends more time blogging than writing.”

“Don’t know; she says she’s very happy.”

They cooled off and let the sun dip before clearing the last ten barrow loads, finally throwing down the tools at around 5 o’clock, completely exhausted and filthy dirty. Sam was lying on his back in the bare patch of earth, with his legs and arms splayed out. Daniel was similarly arranged on the lawn not too far away.

“I’ve never worked so fucking hard!”

“I’ll call Jeremy and see if he can come tomorrow, and bring the turf.”

“I know this is a difficult subject, but I will pay you ...”

“No ...”

“Yes! Because your expenses didn’t stop did they? What about the rent and the van. Presumably you’re going to have to give Charles notice and pay up to the end of the month?”

It was true of course.

“That’s as may be but I can’t take your money, Daniel; not now.”

“For this job you’re going to have to; else you’ll be out of pocket. Once you start on the greenhouse and begin growing our own food, then it’s different.”

“I can’t grow tobacco or toilet rolls or dishwasher tabs.”

“Two live more cheaply than one. Anyway, don’t forget the writing; focus on that and you could be like Liz.”

“She has talent.”

“You have talent. You just need an editor and someone to correct the punctuation.”

“I’m shit at that stuff.”

“This is all going to work out.”

Sam rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his arm so he could gaze over at Daniel, who resembled a starfish, a pinkish starfish admittedly.

“Slap that aftersun on; you look a bit pink.”

“I do feel like a shrimp on the BBQ.”

“If we clean-up we could have a BBQ tonight.”

“There are some steaks in the fridge; I can’t go out.”

Daniel detected a pause and rolled over to look across and make sure that Sam was awake. He was silently sobbing his heart out.

“Oh shit, babe!” exclaimed Daniel and he scurried across on his hands and feet. “What the fuck is wrong?”

“I can’t explain it,” Sam sobbed out into Daniel’s chest.

“Shush, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam replied through heaving sobs.

There wasn’t anything Daniel could do except hold him. After a while Sam regained his composure and pulled away a little.

“Thank you.”

“None required; I’m doing my job.”

Sam smiled bravely through the vestiges of the tears.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“There isn’t much to say; I just couldn’t help it.”

The reality was pretty simple; the space where love wanted to hang out was full of all those old, undigested and largely unvoiced declarations of love that no one had ever heard. The intended recipients all ‘gone away – no forwarding address’. Daniel had converted the dank cellar into a sun room in a mere handful of days. The pain of atrophied muscles being worked had just been too much to tolerate.

“I thought my heart was going to burst.”

“I make a great pepper sauce; and I’ve got some herby butter for the sweetcorn.”

“You’re so fucking adorable.”

“Let’s get cleaned up and you can put together the BBQ which has never been out of the box.”

“Now you tell me.”

“Neither do I have any briquettes ...”

“You shit ... I’ll go if I can borrow the Jag’ ...”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask.”

Chapter Six – 'Driving Lorries For Dummies'

The boys were on the patio drinking coffee, dressed in sarongs. The skip was ready and they were waiting for Jeremy to pick it up and deliver the turf. The Chairman of the Neighbourhood Association, Commander Morton, an over-weight ringer for Frank Thornton, came around the corner of the house, having failed to make either of them hear the front door bell.

“Commander! Just in time for coffee.”

“Mr Harding ... Mr Taylor.”

Sam knew the Commander; he’d done his garden at one time but had been ousted by Bridger who was in the same Rotary Club as Morton.

“I can’t stop. I just wanted to see you and confirm that I’m discussing the request for funds to remove the Knotweed with the rest of the committee tonight.”

“Thanks.”

“I had a complaint from ...”

“Mr Black Mercedes? Yeah, and you’ll be getting one from me about the speed he drives that thing up this road.”

“When will the skip be removed?”

“Today! Which is hassle and extra cost to me but I’m not churlish or uncooperative despite what everyone thinks.”

“Uhm, quite, Mr Harding, and I must thank you for acting so promptly ...”

“Where others have clearly dallied, judging by the number of properties affected and some of those plants have been there for years.”

“I don’t think the nature of the threat was clearly understood until now.”

“I was ignorant too; that said, if I am acting conscientiously in removing the plant then everyone else will have to as well; otherwise I’m wasting my time and potentially the Association’s money. Can I suggest that you get all residents with the plant to remove it at their own expense and if they agree then I won’t ask for a contribution?”

“I’ll propose that at the meeting tonight.”

“Good. Sure you won’t have a coffee?”

“No; must get on.”

“How’s Deidre?”

“In very fine health, thank you.”

“I’d walk you to the gates Commander but I don’t want a complaint from him across the road that I was inappropriately dressed or sporting too dark a tan or breathing too deeply.”

“Good day, Mr Harding ... Mr Taylor.”

“Well done, no ‘c’ word.”

“Cunt has a nerve coming round here.”

“Why didn’t Maggie hear the door?”

“Where is she?”

If there was one thing they could be sure of it was that Maggie never removed herself further than fifty paces from her Sam.

“I’ll have a look out the front in a minute. Jeremy will be here soon and I don’t want her in the way when the trucks pull up.”

“Did Liz confirm for Saturday night?”

“Yes she did and Marshy already did.”

At 10am, Jeremy arrived with the skip lorry to pick up the skip; the lorry carrying the turf arriving a minute later.

Sam had failed to find Maggie and was worried; she just never ran off, ever.

The boys stood admiring the virility of Jonathan who drove the skip lorry and operated the gantry which picked up the skips and put them on the back of the rig. Jeremy was admiring the cheque that Daniel had thrust into his hand. The truck that delivered the turf just passed through the gates and Billy, Jeremy’s youngest, was unloading it at the top of the drive, leaving the boys to ferry it around to the back later.

Jonathan finished loading and hauled arse, leaving Billy to take Jeremy back to the yard. A few moments after the skip lorry had disappeared, the gates of the property opposite opened and the Mercedes pulled out, perhaps a tad slower than usual. Sam wandered over to ask the security guard if he’d seen Maggie. As he approached the gates, which were now closing, he was sure he heard Maggie’s bark from somewhere around the back of the house. His stomach flipped and knotted.

The security guard ignored his question and once the gates had closed, he moved off. Sam went back to the others.

“I’m sure I heard Maggie around the back of his place.”

“How?”

“Don’t know. That bozo just ignored me as usual when I asked him if he’d seen her.”

“Once Jeremy’s gone we’ll look for her properly.”

They turned in unison to head up the drive but Sam pulled them up.

“Did you hear that? I swear that’s her.”

Daniel agreed.

“That’s bizarre. If she’d got onto their property, why didn’t the guard just return her?”

“I’m going over to speak to that Solomon guy.”

Daniel walked back to the house with Jeremy whilst Sam wandered back across the road and pressed the buzzer of the intercom at the gate.

A minute or so later a voice asked him what he wanted.

“It’s Samuel from across the road at Burnt Acres. I wondered if you had seen my dog; I was sure I heard her round the back of your place.”

“Security would have reported the dog if it had entered the property.”

“Could you check with him because he’s ignoring me?”

“One moment please.”

Sam held on and before long the intercom crackled. He heard Solomon’s voice but it was drowned out by the sound of Maggie barking; the intercom was turned off.

“Is she there?”

Sam was feeling panicky now.

“The dog is not here.”

“Are you sure? I heard a dog.”

“That was one of the security dogs.”

Samuel knew he was lying because he could see both dogs across the way with the guard.

He ran back to the house.

“She’s in there, I heard her; he says not but I know he’s lying.”

“Get in the truck, Sam.”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“Just get in!”

Sam had never seen Daniel look quite so feral. Daniel jumped in and started the engine; Sam hopped in the back. Jeremy was using the loo in the shower room and Billy was on the patio having his coffee. Daniel turned the truck around, chewing up the lawn but apparently possessed and in no mood for taking prisoners. He sped down the drive and Sam crouched in the back, convinced Daniel was going to hit the archway. He didn’t, and as soon as he was through his own gates he punched the accelerator and bounced across the road straight into the gates of the house opposite.

The impact threw Sam forward as the truck’s speed was checked but Daniel had been travelling fast enough to burst through the gates and despite the windscreen popping out and smashing to pieces on the driveway, Daniel managed to keep her under control and headed for the house, fifty yards up the drive. The security guard was going ape and had released the dogs. Daniel drove straight for him and didn’t slow down. The guy jumped clear. Daniel stopped at the house, skidding to a standstill on the loose gravel. Sam jumped down from the back and headed around to the rear of the property. The front door was opened by Solomon who was screaming blue murder.

Daniel stayed in the truck and just revved the engine, letting her inch forward towards the portico, screaming, “I’ll have you, you fucking cunt!” and blasting the horn of the truck as if to herald the arrival of the Valkyries.

Sam legged it around the back, shouting out ‘MAGGIE’; the answer came back and he headed for what looked like a kitchen door. He burst in, terrifying the two women working in the kitchen.

“WHERE’S THE DOG?” he screamed and one of the woman just pointed into the hallway. He ploughed on and heard Maggie more distinctly from somewhere down below. He guessed right and found the door to the cellar and there was no doubt then because the dog bounded into view and up the short flight of steps.

There was a riot going on out the front which he could see because the front door was open. Billy and Jeremy had turned up and just then, the police; sirens blazing. Daniel was still in the cab blasting the horn and revving the engine.

“Holy shit, Daniel ...”

Epilogue

“How the fuck did you get away with just a caution?”

“Well, Samuel, it’s like this; the Swiss Ambassador is shagging the Commander’s wife. The Commander is a magistrate. The Ambassador spoke to the Commander and encouraged him to be lenient.”

“So you spoke to the Ambassador and threatened to grass him up if he didn’t get you off?”

“Correct!”

“Jesus!”

“How’s Maggie?”

“Just fine; unlike the truck and the gates.”

“That cunt can pay.”

“Should I offer to remove the Knotweed do you think?”

“We’ll do a leaflet drop; you could make a fortune!”

Sam drove them home from the police station. A firm was hastily repairing the gates. There was no sign of the security guard or the dogs. The house manager was supervising the repairs but once he saw the Jag’ he scuttled back inside.

“What were they thinking?” Daniel asked.

“He was just being spiteful and vindictive.”

“I expect Jeremy’s pissed that the truck’s off the road for repairs; I’ll have to make that up to him.”

“Daniel, I think he was grateful it was that truck and not the skip lorry.”

“I would’ve used it if I’d had the choice; fucking wrecked that place if I’d needed to.”

Sam burst into tears and Daniel was at his side in an instant, assuming it was the shock coming out.

“It’s over; she’s fine ... no harm done.”

“No-one has ever stood up for me like that before,” Sam blubbed into the chest he was being held against; a place which was fast becoming a favourite venue of late.

“If you think this gets you out of making the tea on weekday mornings then you can think again.”

“I so fucking love you.”

“Maybe you can have Wednesday off.”

The Carter Seagrove Project is the creative workspace of authors Alp Mortal and Chambers Mars.

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements and Credits

Chapter One – “not interested”

Chapter Two – “easy does it”

Chapter Three – Gardening, uphill and down dale

Chapter Four – Paradise on Earth

Chapter Five – Glory hole

Chapter Six – 'Driving Lorries For Dummies'

Epilogue