Cut the grass
"Problem. I've got to go."
That was it. He ran upstairs to pack.
Sue had been through this many times.
She suspected her husband volunteered,he seemed to be the one who was always troubleshooting. This was the third "panic" this year.
"How long will you be away?"
"I don't know, remember to cut the grass."
He had a thing about cutting the grass but she had no idea why. Of course, if he didn't keep buggering off, he could cut the fucking grass himself.
She was not happy.
Their marriage was not sparkling, or even shiny. They had gotten into a rut, into predictable roles. She had started to wonder just how long she would stay. She suspected not long.
"Good morning. I was wondering if you wanted any gardening done?"
The woman standing at the door didn't look like a gardener.
For a start she was wearing a dress and Sue was sure that all gardeners wore trousers.
"I have never seen a gardener wearing a dress before."
The woman looked bemused.
"How many female gardeners have you seen?"
"A few, not many."
There was a sparkle in the woman's eye.
"Would you prefer for me to take it off?"
Sue was shocked, speechless.
How do you answer a question like that?
Sue ignored the suggestion but she did agree that the woman could come and do the grass cutting this week. As a trial.
"What's your name? I am Sue."
"I am Queenie."
.Queenie appeared. Wearing a dress and sandals.
"You can't wear those."
She went to her van and lifted out a pair of boots."
"Anything else bossyboots?"
Sue spluttered.
"Do you always insult your customers?."
Queenie laughed.
"Only the beautiful ones."
Sue opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, she was flabbergasted.
Queenie put her boots on and then hitched her skirt up and tucked it in under her waistband.
Sue looked at her suntanned legs.
She wondered how high the suntan went.
And then wondered where that thought had come from.
Sue went inside to do her chores.
