Tony was an enigma to most people. Tony was universally popular, working for himself as a landscape gardener, creating stylish gardens for many of the townspeople. At 24 he was set up for life. His work was lucrative. He had a smart home, fully paid off, which he had inherited from his parents. Tony was good looking, a fit muscular body from the physical side of his work, standing a good 6 foot tall. He was quiet, but friendly. He worked hard and did a good job. People described him as a good catch – most young women would go for him, they said. And there had been girl friends, and he had been kind to them, a gentleman. None of them had worked out – but when he was a teenager relationships were never expected to last.
But he was still an enigma. He wasn't someone to mix socially. He seemed to keep himself to himself. Some said it wasn't healthy that he was rarely seen in the social centres – the bars, the restaurants. It wasn't natural for a young good-looking man like him to avoid relationships, when he could have almost any girl he wanted. Some of his friends had even tried match-making, but it wasn't for Tony – he ran a mile. No-one thought he was gay – but somehow he just seemed very private, happy with his own company. Even Tony's sister Ruby tried to get him to go out more, and was puzzled by his attitude, but couldn't succeed. He would go to Ruby's home on a Sunday and have lunch with her, her husband and children – children who adored Tony. Then it was home again to his privacy.
Some had worked it out a bit. Truth be told he hadn't always been so private – when a teenager he had been "out there" enjoying himself, and as a student he had been the same. He was different when he came back to the town.
It was no surprise – he came back when his parents had both been killed in a horrific car accident. Killed instantly. The family had been close – a good family, and the death of both parents in that instant had been a dagger through Tony's heart, a dagger even two years later that was killing him – he still couldn't get away from their death, still a black cloud blotting out all the light in his life. It was simply his inabilty to escape that dreadful day that locked Tony up. Tony desperately wanted to break out, but always the cloud, always the chains............
For Tony weekends were either a time for being alone, coping with the grief he couldn't shake off, or time for meeting potential clients, giving quotes for work, drawing up designs. When it was the former he felt guilty he was still in mourning; when it was the latter he wished he could be left alone......
This May Saturday morning was a time for meeting clients. It was just about 10.00am when he knocked on the door of the detached house, surrounded by what looked like an acre of grass. It was a great house, and a dull boring garden but a garden with potential......
Tony assumed it was Tom Fletcher who opened the door – that was the name of the person who had phoned him. Tom was perhaps in his mid forties. He was a tall slim man. Although he was wearing shorts, You could guess that Tom would be much more at home in a suit at work. Tom introduced himself, cracked a few jokes, led Tony into the kitchen in the house, offered him coffee, which Tom was happy to take. Tony was aware it could be a couple of hours talking gardens, and he needed the caffeine boost to keep him going.
A few moments later a lady appeared – Tom introduced her as Amy, his wife. Amy was the same sort of age as Tom, tall, slim and attractive. Again she was wearing shorts – the weather was warm, and had short dark hair, round features, a ready smile.
Over the next couple of hours they talked gardens. Tony learnt that their two daughters were away at college, that Tom was something in banking, Amy an administrator in a local school. They were a couple who laughed a lot, were good company. Tony was impressed by their friendliness, as much as they were impressed by his garden design skills. Tony measured the garden, took photos and promised that by the following Saturday he would bring them some draft designs and costings. They clearly had the potential to be good customers, but just one thing made Tony jump. It was odd.
They shook hands, and Amy said, as she did: "This job could be good fun, you might find it good fun working here." It was the emphasis on the "good fun" and the hint of a wink that went with it. Was she flirting................?
The following Saturday Tony took the plans around, had displayed them. Tom and Amy were impressed. They talked details, maintenance of the garden, water features, and agreed the contract and price – a very good price - for the work. But Tony left feeling slightly uneasily...............
It wasn't that they hadn't been friendly, they had been delightful. It wasn't that they had been difficult customers, quite the opposite. What jarred, he decided as he drove home, was the flirting. It had been faintly ludicrous – it wasn't just Amy, it was Tom as well! It seemed they were both flirting with him when the other left the room. Amy, leaning forward, giving Tom a glimpse down the front of her blouse. Tom gripping his biceps, saying that he loved good muscles. Amy saying that it would be good to have a real man working on their garden. Tom saying he didn't like hard work – he would feel stiff just watching Tom, with a hint of emphasis on the word stiff.
All morning it went on, the flirting. Tony was not going to turn down the job – it was too good, but somehow he felt it wasn't going to be as simple as he first thought.
The first day – the following Monday - he worked hard, moving all the soil he wouldn't need, and was still working hard when Amy returned home from work. She offered him a long stiff drink; commenting that she loved to see a man working in shorts, showing off his body, and then with a smirk said, "And with less............." Later, when Tom came home he asked to see the progress. Again the innuendo in a comment: he was looking at the hole Tony had dug for the pond, and commented that Tom must be good at "working in holes". Said with a wink.
Through the week the comments continued when Amy, then Tom came home from work. At first, Tony was wary, but started to like it – it felt like flattery. Did he mind that Amy was flirting? He liked it – sometimes dreamt of her as he masturbated. Did he mind Tom flirting? Tony surprised himself – he thought he should mind, but found something in him aroused........
Tony worked hard all week, and planned to work over the weekend as well. He arrived early on the Saturday, clearly before Tom and Amy were out of bed, and sat on the decking outside the kitchen window. It was Tony's practice to spend the first half hour of each day looking at the work he had done, the work to be done – it inspired him and gave him a sense of what had to be done next. As he sat there, he heard voices from the kitchen. After a couple of minutes he tuned into the voices – Tom and Amy chatting.
