The Touch

WARNING TO READERS - This is a long, rambling, multi-part story and VERY British. The individual chapters will make more sense if read in sequence.

Sorry! This chapter may meander even more than usual as it has been put together from several short 'day in the life' journal style entries which have been linked together as each was too short to stand alone.

Pt. 27 The Things That Dreams Are Made Of

Wednesday morning Steve was fully occupied with making deliveries with the big lorry and so I took Dennis over to Caroline's house in the Land Rover, to continue with the fencing work. We were there early, just after eight and I was surprised to see her black BMW parked in the drive she must have come down from town after we had left the previous night.

I decided that it was probably best not to disturb her and so Dennis and I got straight down to fixing the remaining fencing panels in place. We had only got two of them screwed in when Dennis touched my arm and nodded up towards the house.

"I think your girlfriend is looking for you," he teased, nudging me with his elbow, "She is a bit tidy ... pity she has such poor taste, I am the handsome one around here."

Caroline was standing by the open French window beckoning me to join her. Dennis was right; she looked very tasty that morning. She was dressed in a tailored skirt suit, cream with a grey pin-stripe, with a dove grey silk shirt and her blonde hair shone in the early morning sun.

"Good morning Caroline," I said as I approached her brushing my hands on the front of my work trousers. We exchanged pleasantries and she asked about the progress with the work. "We will have the fencing finished this morning, the shed erected and I hope to start clearing the rubble and debris this afternoon. If everything goes to schedule and the weather holds out I hope to start marking out and preparing for laying the paved area and the decking on Friday."

"That sounds good, you will still be completed by May 20th, won't you?"

"No problem with that, " I promised, then as an after thought. "Would it be inconvenient for you if we worked through this week-end? I would like to get ahead in case the weather changes for the worse and we need to stop work for a couple of days."

"No. That would be fine, perhaps......" I never got to learn what she was about to say as at that point a man stepped through the door leading to the hallway.

"Are you done yet, Caroline?" He called. "I really do need to get back to town .... I'll wait in the car." He was good looking and thirtyish, dressed in an expensive Saville Row grey pin-stripe suit, silk club tie and sounded arrogant and a bit pissed off.

"Sorry, I've got to go ... would you move your Land Rover to let us out, please?"

I walked around the house and pulled out onto the road to give her room to manoeuvre the BMW out of the drive. The guy, whoever he was, was sitting in the passenger seat with a scowl on his face. Caroline leaned out of the driver side window, "Thank you Jamie, I may see you at the week-end ...must go before he has another tantrum," she laughed. I could see then arguing as she drove slowly down the road.

Whoever the guy was he had obviously driven down with Caroline and stayed the night, probably a business acquaintance, or maybe her regular lover, perhaps even a fiancé, although she didn't wear a ring. I wasn't at all surprised that she had boyfriends or lovers; she was a very attractive woman who oozed sex appeal from every pore. I felt a bit sorry for him, if he was getting into a fight with Caroline; I knew where I would place my money on the winner, she was a very tough lady and my guess was that she had a temper to match.

Dennis and I cracked on with the fencing and were just fixing the last panels when Becca arrived. It was just before eleven and so we decided to take a mid-morning break for coffee and snacks. I introduced her to Dennis and then Becca and I took our coffees and wandered around the garden with the plan and I tried to explain to her my vision of how I intended it to look when the work was completed. She grasped the picture almost immediately and went back to her car for a sketch book and a little folding camping stool and sat herself up by the house.

"This is going to be fun," she chuckled. "Why don't you men just get on with your work and let me make a few pencil sketches from here, and then you can tell me if this is going to work for you."

By lunch time Dennis and I had completed erecting the fence and had levelled most of the corner where the small shed would stand. Steve arrived with the lorry and the rubble sacks so that we could start to prepare the footings for the decking and barbeque patio and level the central area to lay the turf for a lawn. I thought that that was a good time for a break and sent the guys off to the pub to get some lunch whilst Becca and I sat in the cab of the Land Rover and she showed me her initial sketches and we matched them to suitable illustrations in the plant catalogues I had brought her and I marked the various types of plants that I intended using onto her copy of the plan.

"I will need to get home to give the boys their lunch shortly," she said. "but I will put some colour onto the drawings and then you can see what you think. Perhaps we can meet up later in the week to look at them?" Just her initial sketches looked really good and I was sure that this was going to work out well for everybody.

"I think that the client, Caroline, will be down at the week-end, maybe you could find an hour or so to come over and show her yourself?" I suggested, "I shall be working here most of Saturday and Sunday anyway." I had brought her a box of plant catalogues and illustrated gardening books for research into visual images of plants not yet in bloom and helped her load them into her car, a bright orange, VW Beetle, about ten years old but obviously well loved and cared for, I had never seen her car before, I suppose it had always been in the garage when I called round at the house. I had found that a persons choice of personal motor cars are often a reflection of their personality, that bright orange Beetle matched Becca perfectly, it spoke of a fun loving free spirit which I knew was the real Becca.

By the end of the day on Friday, we had erected the small tool shed in one corner at the end of the garden, which meant that we could leave some of our kit on site safely locked away, and had cleared the worst of the rubble and debris from the site and had levelled most of the area by the back of the house, put in drainage sinks, and covered the area with weed control membrane and shingle. This was quite a new innovation which Maggie and I were rather keen about. The shingle allowed water to drain away from beneath the wooden decking and the fabric liner stopped unwanted weeds growing beneath the planking. I had warned Caroline that this would be an additional expense but as usual she was unbothered about costs and had instructed us to go ahead. The timber framing and the decking boards had been delivered by the builders merchants that morning and Steve and Dennis were scheduled to start constructing the patio on Monday.

Saturday I was at the Garden Centre about seven-thirty well before we opened for business. I had made teas for Gwen and Emma taken the drinks up to them in bed and left them getting up when I left for work. Gwen had returned home on Friday sometime during the afternoon so that she had dinner ready and waiting for Emma and I when we got home from work. We had spent the evening quietly together, just the three of us catching up and exchanging chat about our simple daily events and about Gwen's training course.

Gwen and Emma were a lot closer again now, which I was really pleased about, mothers and daughters should be close to each other; I think that she had missed Mum ... Gwen, not being there the last couple of weeks and so as Emma had the day off, they were going to spend the day shopping in Devizes as she needed some new riding gear.

Emma was spending more time with Janice Copman; they had become firm friends again and she often went over to the stables in the evening or on her day off to help exercise the horses. Philippa Shelby was quite happy with the arrangement, Emma and the twins had been some of her star pupils as young teenagers and so Emma got to ride for free and Philippa got a willing rider, also for free, everybody was happy, it was the way that most stables worked, 'meat for manners' we used to call it.

We usually tried to make sure that one of us, Maggie, Emma or me was at the garden centre during opening hours. For the most part the business ran like clockwork; the guys were capable and responsible and Grace had the catering side running smoothly and required no supervision, but everybody felt more comfortable if one of the management team were on hand. As Emma was on day off and I would be at Caroline's garden most of the day it was Maggie's turn to mind the fort.

By the time Maggie arrived I had loaded the pick-up with the young Leylandii trees that I intended planting along the perimeter fence adjoining the neighbouring property, some bags of manure and several large sacks of wood chippings.

The upstairs blinds and curtains were closed when I arrived at Caroline's house and so I guessed that she was still in bed, and parked as quietly as I could in the drive and went straight down to the far end of the garden to start forking over the area by the boundary fence to prepare for planting the Leylandii trees. The strip for the hedging was about 30 yards long, the length of the boundary separating the two houses, and needed to be about three feet wide, but turning the soil was less of an effort than I had anticipated and I had forked over some ten yards when I heard a call from the direction of the house.

Caroline was standing at the French doors, waving. "I have made you a coffee," she called, beckoning me to come up to the house. She looked as if she had just got out of bed, she probably had, her blonde hair was tousled and she was wearing a very fashionable, mid-thigh length kimono style robe, of yellow and peacock blue silk, and a pair of ridiculous fluffy pink slippers. She looked totally sexy and ravishing, except for those slippers.

She remained standing in the doorway and as I got closer it became very apparent that the thin kimono was absolutely all that she was wearing; her generous breasts filling the top and her nipples were hard points stretching the material and visible from yards away. "Come in, I have made coffee and there is toast if you want some," she invited.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," I grinned indicating my muddy boots and trousers. "I'm sure you would not appreciate me messing up your nice clean house."

In reality, I could easily have kicked my boots off and my trousers were not very soiled at all, but standing opposite this nearly naked woman, her hard nipples only a foot away I was starting to get horny and could feel my prick beginning to stir in my trousers. Whatever might happen in the future I seriously did not want to get involved with Caroline at that point in time, I was pretty sure that she was flirting with me, but I was having difficulty reading her, if she was only playing with me then any move on my part could be embarrassing for both of us and detrimental to our business relationship; but equally if she was seriously hitting on me then I needed to establish what kind of relationship she was looking for and if I was prepared to deliver what she wanted.

"Perhaps you are right," she answered, with a little pout. She suddenly broke into a wide smile and I noticed for the first time that despite looking as though she had just got up from sleeping, she had actually taken the time to put on some light make-up, just eye liner and a pale lipstick. I could see her mind clicking over. "There are a couple of plastic garden chairs in the garage, bring them around here and we can sit in the sun and drink our coffees and talk."

I fetched the chairs and she came out with two mugs of coffee, handed me one and sat down opposite me. Her kimono was simply tied with a belt at the waist and gaped open at the bottom giving a flashing glimpse of the minutest of panties, a pale blue string which did nothing to hide the shaved pinkness of her pussy, when she crossed her legs. She was either a very cool and calculating tease or was totally oblivious of the vision of temptation she presented.

I had been so enthralled with her body that I had not noticed that she had brought the garden plans with her. She unfolded the sheet and leaned closer to me as she pointed out some small changes that she had decided upon since we last discussed the work progress, nothing major but I realised that Maggie had been completely correct in her opinion of Caroline, she was going to be a very demanding client, but I found it refreshing that the customer wanted to be involved with the project at every stage. I was actually quite relieved when she finally released me.

"I must get dressed to go out," she announced as she stood up, "I am going into Southampton for the rest of the day .... If you are not here when I get back I will probably see you tomorrow morning."

"I have asked the sketch artist, Rebecca Hill, to call in tomorrow morning," I told her, "she should have some rough washes for you to see."

"Oh, that is excellent," she enthused, "I shall look forward to that ... thank you, Jamie." She stepped up to me and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. The kiss may have been chaste but her body lightly pressed against mine as if by accident, her firm tits seemed to be burning holes in my t-shirt and her thighs touched against mine very briefly, but long enough to cause my prick to spring instantly erect.

I spun away from her clumsily, I don't know if she realised why as she was already turning to go back indoors. "I had better get on now .... Er, yes.. must get back to work," I mumbled stupidly, turning half away from her, afraid that she would notice the embarrassing bulge in my trousers.

Caroline called a cheerful goodbye and I heard the French doors close as she went inside the house. I walked back to where I had finished digging and prodded half heartedly at the soil for the next ten minutes, although my mind was full of fantasies involving prodding Caroline and not really on the work at hand. Finally I heard her car door slam and the roar of the powerful engine as she drove her Lotus Elan out of the garage and away towards the main road.

Thinking about Caroline's lush body kept me horny off and on all day but despite the distraction I managed to complete the work schedule I had set myself and by five o'clock had the strip for the hedging, turned over, the horse manure had been dug well into the soil and I had connected the hose to the outside tap and had given the whole bed a good soaking. I need not have bothered because it absolutely poured with rain during that night.

I got home about six-thirty. Gwen and Emma had got in just ahead of me and so Gwen made tea and coffee and I sat and made suitably admiring noises as Emma and Gwen paraded their purchases from the days shopping for my approval. They had taken the full day out and had driven from Devizes up to Swindon and had not only outfitted Emma with new riding kit but had bought what appeared to be a whole shop full of dresses, outfits and shoes.

Gwen had booked a table for the three of us at the White Hart Hotel, in Salisbury to celebrate passing her training course and so we showered and changed, I knew that Gwen would be wearing one of her new dresses and so I put on my suit, a pale blue and pink candy stripe shirt and a silk tie. Gwen as usual looked great, she was wearing a figure hugging dress of fuchsia pink satiny material with a sweeping neckline just displaying a hint of cleavage and had thrown a simple white silk stole around her shoulders.

It was Emma that stunned us both into silence. She came down from her room wearing a dress. Not just any dress a proper full on clingy, sexy mini-dress that hugged her slim figure and made her look an urbane adult. It wasn't her usual plain black but alternate wide horizontal stripes of royal blue and grey and she was wearing it over black three quarter lace leggings, but this outfit was three steps up from her normal choices and I guessed that Gwen had had a hand in choosing it. She had brushed her hair until it shone and had twisted it into some kind of complicated knot at the nape of her neck which made her look very sophisticated and grown up.

"Bloody hell, Emms! You look wonderful! Absolutely fantastic!" I exclaimed, and she did.

The meal at the White Hart was excellent, the restaurant served a first class carvery with a selection of roast and cold meats, vegetables which were actually hot and a wide selection of puddings and ice creams. We all thoroughly enjoyed our meals and just being out together for the evening and took our coffees and brandies through to the hotel lounge and sat until we heard the barman calling last orders, just talking and enjoying each others company; I could never, ever, forget that Gwen and I were lovers but being out as a family it was nice that just for an evening that she could also be my mother again for a few hours.

As we crossed the reception hall to leave, I felt a light tug at my sleeve. It was Georgia Craven, who had obviously just left the restaurant with a group of people I did not recognise. In fact I almost didn't recognise her either; since we last met she had changed her appearance, she had lightened her hair and was wearing it loose instead of tied into the rather old fashioned bun that she usually wore, it looked good, and softened her image.

"Hello again, James," she smiled, "We keeping running into each other, I am beginning to wonder who is following who?"

"I think it is because we both have good taste," I chuckled. Ok, so it was good that I was starting to relax a bit around Georgia at last, but now I was actually flirting with her, not only that but she seemed to enjoy it. I diverted the conversation quickly, "I don't think you have met my mother, have you Georgia?"

"We have seen each other from afar, but we have never met .... Hello, Mrs. Riley." Gwen and Georgia exchanged pleasantries and then she turned to Emma. "So James, is this your girl friend? She is very pretty."

"No, I am afraid not," I said, "This is Emma, my little sister." I glanced at Emma who was starting a pout and added very quickly, "But I agree she is very pretty."

Emma seemed to swell with appreciation and couldn't hold back a beaming smile which lit up her whole face. It was her most redeeming feature, that lovely smile that she shared with Gwen and Maggie. I felt Gwen gently squeeze my arm in approval, Emma had such a mercurial temperament and anything that boosted her self esteem was worthwhile.

We made our farewells and left for the car park ahead of Georgia's party. Emma was a few steps ahead of us when Gwen slipped her arm through mine and squeezed it against her breast. "If you look back at that Georgia woman's arse, I will slap you silly when we get home," she hissed in mock annoyance.

"Wow! That sounds like fun, it could be worth it." I whispered, and we both started to giggle uncontrollably.

Emma looked round, "What are you two up to now? Don't you ever stop pissing about?" She walked back and looped her arm through mine and hugged it close to her. We walked to the car, three in a row, happily clinging tightly to each other.

By the time that we got home it was almost midnight, nobody wanted anything more to drink and so we said our goodnights, hugged and kissed and Gwen and Emma went up to their rooms whilst I stepped outside for a last cigarette.