The Builders' Report (chapters 9 & 10)

Chapter 9

Cleo woke early with a restless feeling shadowing her. It promised to be a fine day with the temperatures already pleasantly warm. When she had left the office on Friday, she had planned to 'get back in touch with Mother Earth' by working in the garden weeding and cutting the grass with the new hover mower. It had even crossed her mind that she'd take the time to visit a nursery with the view to spoiling herself with plants and flowers for the garden. But now, that original enthusiasm which had prompted her to come, had been dimmed by her dealings with Jason. The temptation to call him was tangible, except, where had she put his card? The fact that it wasn't anywhere visible had her searching, looking in the same places twice or more. There were only so many places to lose a card in an empty house but that didn’t reassure her. When she finally located it in her toilet bag, the relief was overwhelming.

As she sat with her second cup of tea getting cold, his card flicking in her fingers, she didn't know what she was assessing. From the time she had awoken, she had known subconsciously that she would ring him, which was why she had been searching frantically for his card. What she would say wasn't important because he would fill in the words for her. He was good at words and canny with it. She glanced at her wristwatch and realised that that was why she hadn't rung him yet. It wasn't even seven o'clock on a bank holiday Monday. She was probably the only person in all of England to be on her second cup of tea this early on a holiday weekend.

At seven o'clock, Jason lay with his hands behind his head looking up at the coloured lights sparkling on his ceiling. A cut crystal vase on his window sill was acting as a prism, casting fluctuating flickers of coloured light overhead, dancing as the leaves outside his window intervened with the sun's rays. He was a kid again. Prisms had been wondrous for him then. A freak occurrence in a shop window a couple of months ago had encouraged him to buy the vase for that quality alone. He had paid dearly for it but then he hadn't only bought glass, but escape. As a kid, it had been the nearest to magic he had ever come.

This morning the hypnotic movements were not enough to distract him from Cleo. God! Was he going to be able to wait for her to call or was he going to have to drive over there and act nonchalant as he asked her out to lunch? Perhaps, he ought to take the professional slant of proposing to give her an estimate for the work she had mentioned wanting done. Not that he would be touting for it. That would make a mockery of his policy of never mixing business with pleasure.

There, he had neatly done himself out of a job without a backward glance. No, he would simply give her some suggestions and an idea of what she could expect to pay. He would not, however, suggest one of his competitors! That would be turning the knife in the wound.

He surprised himself by throwing back the covers and jumping from the bed. He'd known all along that he would take his chance and drive over there. Some would say he was a sucker for punishment but they would be wrong because this would be a first.

Absentmindedly wrapping himself in an indigo-blue, kimono-type dressing gown, he went downstairs to breakfast, taking the empty wineglass with him. Once the coffee maker was on, he took particular pleasure in choosing from any number of different boxes of cereal. He had never had the choice when he was a kid. They had been given those two wheat oblongs every morning for as long as he could remember and never three! As hungry as he might have been, he had sometimes had trouble finishing them because once the milk had soaked in, it turned them into wet cement with just as much taste.

The percolated coffee smelt good and he'd chosen brightly coloured loops to fill his bowl. They had to be a marketing success because they cheered him before he'd taken a bite. He was almost finished when his mobile phone rang from the kitchen counter. The unexpectedness of it had him choking on the last of the cheerful loops. It had to be Cleo! He nearly tripped over himself in his haste to answer it but felt his excitement ebb as he saw the caller's name – Bob.

"Hi ya!" spoken with more enthusiasm than he felt.

"What's up Bob, besides you? You're early."

"Fancy a game? Dennis, Frank, Joe, Simon and me are off to Grovelands."

Jason knew that he was talking about a game of soccer. They often played on a Sunday morning before the park got busy. Being a bank holiday Monday was the same as a Sunday. He was sorely tempted. He looked at the time. Just gone eight o'clock. Cleo was probably still in bed.

"Sounds good. Meet over there in a quarter of an hour?"

"Done!" Bob replied, pleased with the prospect of having enough players to make the game interesting. Sometimes they would pick up a couple of other players once they got started. There were always those stragglers lurking near the field, hopeful of finding a game on the move.
Jason changed into his sports gear and left with a last swallow of his coffee.

Cleo glared at her watch which seemed to be losing time. She'd wait until nine and then she'd call him, although this hanging about was allowing time for doubts to set in. She vacillated. She'd ring now, and then the ball would be in his court. It would be up to him to find the lame excuse that would put her back into her place. Good grief, she had only met him a day and a half ago! Chemistry was a dangerous thing when one was ignorant. No. Not this early, after all. Nine or nothing.

As she waited for the hands of her watch to show nine o'clock, she had entered Jason's telephone number into her mobile phone. It was a manual operation which kept her mind occupied because she was already beginning to feel nervous. By doing it, she was ensuring that she wouldn't back down at the last minute as it only needed a push on one button to ring him.

At nine, she waited a couple minutes more so that it wouldn't look like she'd been aiming for nine. Then... contacts... Jason Dooley. She pushed the button and waited; each additional ringing tone pumping up the blood coursing through her veins, her head. It rang and rang and yet no answer. She was more disappointed than she would have liked to admit. Then humiliation began to gnaw at her. He must know it was she and had had second thoughts. This must be his way of rejecting her as she had rejected him last night. She nevertheless checked the written number against the registered one. They matched! She knew it was silly to imagine reasons why he wasn't answering when it might be something as simple as him being in the shower. She'd wait now to see if he got back to her, almost wishing that her call hadn't left a trace, especially with the early hour.

No, after all, she wouldn't sit around waiting. She had wanted to buy plants and that was what she would do. Her GPS would be happy to take her to the nearest plant place. She emptied the cold tea into the sink, placing the cup on the draining board. She would be glad once the house was furnished because it sounded very hollow and lonely.

The GPS had done a grand job of finding a whole road lined with garden centres and nurseries. Each was as good as the next, so, she turned into the first convenient car park which hadn’t yet filled. The summer weather was bound to bring out gardeners at every level, which made her glad she had arrived early. By the time she had pushed a heavy-duty trolley all around the centre filling it with the usual plants and anonymous ones she had never seen before, more than an hour had passed. She hadn’t thought about him more than superficially in all that time! She had wanted to kick herself, though, when she realised that she had left her portable in the car, on the passenger seat. It didn’t make her rush to pay. She would soon see if he’d called and a few minutes wouldn’t make much difference. He would understand that she hadn’t been sitting with it in her hand. There was still plenty of time to get home, deposit the plants before the question of lunch entered into the fray.

Once they had started kicking the ball around, it was easy to forget all else. To everyone’s surprise the good weather had drawn out more than the usual soccer fans. It hadn’t taken them long to include enough strays into the game that they had begun to play seriously. And of course, when from a distance it looks like a real game is going on, they had begun to draw spectators too. A little encouragement from the sidelines and they were all in heaven in a fast-paced game. It could have gone on for hours but some of the men were conscientious enough to think of the women that would be waiting for them at home. No point in aggravating the Mrs…

By the time Jason got home it was gone eleven o’clock. He’d inadvertently left his phone on the kitchen counter so the first thing he did when he walked in was to pick it up to check for messages and calls.

There had only been the one from a number he didn’t recognise. A ‘missed’ call had registered at just after nine in the morning. He wondered if it were Cleo, hoping that it was. He pressed on recall and held while it rang and rang. He hoped that this wasn't going to be one of those times when they would keep missing calls, not sure of the reason. He'd try again in half an hour.

Cleo wanted to cry. The holiday traffic had backed up causing a jam with cars entering and leaving the different garden centres. In an effort to get out of the wilting heat, because now the sunny day was hot, she'd turned left down a secondary road the minute she could. The GPS is a wondrous invention when it works. Now she was seeing two different, contradictory paths to take and neither of them looked like they were going in the right direction. As soon as she could, she pulled over and re-initiated the programme.
'Recalculating' came the synthesized voice before adding, 'continue for six miles'!
Six miles along country roads with nothing but greenery! This did not feel right. There were no road signs to tell her which way she was heading, not that it would help because this was all new terrain to her. Panic had her looking at the petrol gauge. That was when she had wanted to cry. It wasn't quite empty, but six miles this way and ten that, without a place to fill up in sight, on a bank holiday Monday – anyone would have wanted to cry.

Her mobile, still on the passenger seat had rung but she hadn't been able to answer just at that moment. A rather large van was coming at her from the opposite direction and they had had to slow to pass each other in the country lane. After carefully manoeuvring past it, the phone had stopped ringing while she had begun looking for somewhere to pull over. A shallow lay-by suddenly gave her the opportunity which she seized with relief. She could hear the long grass swishing along the side of the car but wouldn't have cared if it had been branches, she was that thankful to be able to come to a standstill.
She grabbed up the phone. One missed call – Jason. He suddenly took on the persona of a hero. She knew he would come to her rescue. She knew!

Chapter 10

"Burntfarm Ride, ya mean?" He asked just to be sure there was no mistake.

"Yes, you're right. I thought is said Burnham Ride but as I was driving I couldn't be sure."

"Stay anywhere along the road where it's safe. Your car is a dark green Mini Cooper, right?"

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry to be such a nuisance, Jason. It's just that I'm completely lost, my GPS has gone berserk and," she couldn't help it, she made a sound that might easily have deteriorated into a sob if she hadn't swallowed a gnat at that moment. It had her spluttering instead and then coughing.

"And?" he prompted her.

"I'm nearly out of petrol!" She coughed out.

"It's going to take me about three quarters of an hour to get to ya. Just stay put and I'll find ya. OK?"

"Thank you, Jason. I don't know what to say." She finished by teetering between laughing and crying.

"Just say you'll have lunch with me... " After he'd said it, he realised it might sound like a condition for rescuing her. "No, ya don't have ta. I was just joking. Hold tight and I'll see ya soon." He cut off before she could comment in any way.

It hadn't been possible for Cleo to stay sat in her car. Even with the windows down, the sun had made the interior uncomfortably warm. She had looked sadly at her beautiful plants hoping that help would arrive before they all shrivelled from the heat. Luckily, they had been well-watered before leaving the centre, which is more than she could say for herself. She was decidedly thirsty.
She sat in the leeway of a hedge which offered shade and cooler air. One car had stopped to ask if she needed help but had moved on when she had said she was waiting for a friend.
Of course, he was a friend. She hadn't stopped churning over Jason in her mind since waking and admitted that he had to be a friend to go out of his way to help her, especially after her treatment of him last night. Every time a car passed, she glanced up to see if it were he, so that when a white van pulled over, she wasn't expecting him. Then it dawned on her he'd come with his van rather than the car.
She didn't move from the side of the hedge. Couldn't move from the side of the hedge. She first saw his shiny head of black hair as he got out and then the smile as he looked at her over the top of the van. That was when it happened. She started crying again.

Jason had only lost time when he'd stopped to get a jerrican of petrol. It had been the reason for taking his van. He knew the region pretty well now, so it really hadn't taken long to actually locate Cleo and her Mini Cooper. His gaze had gone straight to the woman sitting next to the hedge, exactly where he would have gone himself. He saw her expression of relief as it crumpled into something emotional that he supposed was the release of tension. He'd gone to her, risking yet another rejection, and pulled her up into his arms.

"Ah, Cleo. Don't let it get ya down. We all have our off days." He tried to console her while patting her back gently. It made matters worse, or better, depending on your point of view.

Suddenly, with Jason's arms around her and his soothing words trying to placate her, she lost her hold on fourteen years. She began to howl as she hugged him with her head to his shoulder. She didn't hear anything he said, just a soft even tone that people use to talk to babies or dogs. It worked though. After an indeterminable amount of time, she slowly calmed and was only left with the occasional sob. She didn't let him go, though, because she felt something she had never ever felt – safe in someone's arms.

The fourteen years of control of everything, including the changing of her name, evaporated as she realised just how much she had been alone. She had only had herself keeping a grip on her life. She hadn't allowed for any straying from the path for fear of losing her direction and it had only taken Jason and a malfunctioning GPS to get her lost. She would never ever be able to get back onto that road again. She clung to him for dear life. Gradually, she took in his words.

"Com'on, Sweetheart, we can't stay here all day. It looks like you've got plants needing a garden."
She had looked at her car and saw just how crammed packed it appeared with all the flowers and bushes fighting for breathing space. She couldn't help it. She hugged him and felt him hug her back as he brought his chin down to rest on the top of her head.

He got her home making sure not to lose her at crossroads or lights. He parked in front of her house and, while waiting for her to park on her drive, he had got out and leaned his lithe body against his van. Arms crossed in front of his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, eyes half closed against the brilliant sunshine, he watched her get out of the Mini, trying to decipher her mood. In a graceful movement that showed no hesitation, she came over to him and he instinctively held open his arms. She returned to that comforting, reassuring stance with her arms around him too.

Looking up at him, she went on her toes to kiss him in the most natural gesture of affection. He kissed her back gently and with a squeeze, let her go.

"We better get that jungle into the shade or you'll be finding yourself lost again trying to replace their dead bodies."

They had worked together to carry all the pots to the back garden through the side gate. This time it was she who had taken his hand to draw him into her house for a drink. He had been frankly impressed with the house's potential and had 'wowed' over her kitchen. He knew the cost of flagstones and these were the real thing, not some stone composite product nor a veneer. And all the other items or equipment had cost a pretty penny too. He was just the tiniest bit intimidated. She had to be good at what she did!

"I'd like to take ya ta lunch, if you're hungry? There's an old pub called 'The Woodman' that's not far from that Fox Lane, I told ya about. Are ya hungry, Cleo?"

"I'll go with you if you call me 'Sweetheart' again!" She laughed with her daring.

"Let's go, Sweetheart!" He unexpectedly pulled on her hand and she fell into him. He took advantage by kissing her again, gently on her lips and felt them smile against his mouth.

"Couldn't resist," he explained quite innocently. She broke away from him to lock-up before handing him her car keys. She'd seen how well he drove and honestly didn't relish the idea of getting behind a wheel again until absolutely necessary. Without realising it, this was another tiny step to relinquishing her self-made power. He hesitated, perhaps at the vote of confidence, or perhaps wondering what would come next. Then, throwing the keys in the air and catching them, he said,

"Com'on Sweetheart, what are we waiting for?"

They had enjoyed lunch in the crowded pub. It was obviously a favourite of the locals as they were all calling quips back and forth across the main room with a good deal of laughter. It had affected Jason at the same moment that it had affected her because the jolly mood in the place had had her reaching for his hand at the same time that he had reached out for hers. She felt herself flush and suddenly had an ache between her legs. My God, what was he doing to her? She hoped he wouldn't notice the trouble she was having breathing.

"Shall we go back and plant those flowers? It's work for me tomorrow and I suppose for ya too?" He questioned her.

"You're right but I hate to leave here. It has been such a lovely lunch and atmosphere. Thank you, Jason. Thank you for everything. Thank you for coming to my rescue and for overlooking my behaviour last night. It is just that I never let anyone get close and it shocked me to find that I had with you."

"And now, Cleo?" He had suddenly become serious, looking at her intently with those expressive eyes and raised dark brows that sent shivers through her.

"Now? I want you to romance me, to hold me in your arms, to kiss me. I love your kisses. I could not imagine a man's kisses affecting me as yours do. I would like you to be patient with me for a little longer. Is that possible?" Her voice trailed away as she looked down. She didn't want to see exasperation in his eyes.

"Hey! I'm thirty four years old and I have to admit, I'm not the sex maniac I was at seventeen. I do fancy ya, no beating about the bush, but I can take it easy. Are ya willing to give me a chance?"
She smiled that smile that he'd first seen in front of his yard. It had blown him away then and it did now. He felt the blood rush to groin and it was all he could do not to groan out loud.

"If ya smile at me like that, I can't be held responsible for my actions, Sweetheart!" He warned her half jokingly. "Let's go or we won't have time to see to your plants."
He was hoping that thinking about wilted petunias might wilt him too.