Page 25 of Oz
“We are. Go. Off with you.”
He pats my shoulder and is gone very quickly.
I gather my diary and look around again. It’s amazing what a difference a few weeks have made. It hasn’t been easy. The other builders are, by and large, fairly hostile at having their freedom curtailed, but after a few run-ins they now keep a wary distance, which suits me. I’ve got no patience with lazy people.
I nod with satisfaction and tick a few items on my main list. Then, shutting the door behind me, I amble out into the gardens with Chewwy at my heels. These are beautiful in the late afternoon sunshine. They spread and surround the house, but my favourite, apart from the lavender garden, is the Lady’s Walk along the side of the house. This was used by the women of the house as a secluded place to walk and get fresh air, and it’s a low-walled piece of paradise filled with scented plants that fill the air with perfume.
However, the real attraction lies in its direct view of the sea which lies to the west of the house. You can walk or sit on an old iron bench and watch the restless waves. Silas’s land sweeps down to it and Milo told me the beach belongs to him too. Apparently, there’s a path leading down, but I’ve not found that yet. Every evening before dinner I’ve wandered the grounds with Chewwy, taking any path that takes our fancy and getting a feel for the house and land.
I think I’m falling in love because it seems the most beautiful place on earth to me. Nestled in the green grounds, the windows are always open to the sound of the surf, and sand lays a gritty film over everything. The house itself seems to shelter me and I wander its staircases that take me here and there like a traveller that’s come home after a long time away.
I shake my head. This is just brilliant.All the feels for somewhere I’ll be leaving in a few months.
I traipse through the old wooden door set into the wall, pausing to blink as I come out into the full afternoon sunshine. Then I stop dead, staring with my tongue hanging out at the newest addition to my secret place.
Silas is there, pushing an ancient old mower up and down the grass. He’s obviously been there a while because half of the walk lies in neat manicured lines. It’s another hot afternoon as England basks in the heatwave that’s been going on for a couple of months and shows no sign of stopping.
He’s wearing tatty trainers and disreputable old shorts that hang from his narrow hips and show off the wonderful Adonis belt whose lines are so defined.
However, my attention is all on the fact that he’s shirtless. My mouth fills with saliva and I swallow hard at the sight of all that olive-toned skin before me. He has wide shoulders and the muscles in his arms bulge as he pushes the mower. Sweat glistens on his skin and his wide chest which is covered in thick dark hair.
I resist the urge to either moan or touch myself because a hairy chest is my kryptonite. It’s led me into many situations, some of which I won’t discuss, but I can’t deny the draw. I shake my head. This is like someone rifled my head for my best porny fantasies and set Silas neatly down in front of me.
I must have made a sound because his head shoots up and he jumps. “Shit! You startled me.” He smiles, reaching and turning the mower off.
“You look hot,” I blurt out, my voice thick.
An intense look crosses his face before he grins and strikes a pose. “Why, thank you, Oz. I can’t deny it’s been said before.”
I shake my head, the heat thankfully banking a little at his humour. “Was that from the members of the idiot club?”
He throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Many,manymembers, Oz. If you’re interested, their general meeting is next week.”
“I’ll make a note of it and bake some cheese straws. I don’t want to miss that.” I smile at his laugh before reason slowly returns. “Why are you mowing?” I ask. “Haven’t you got gardeners for that?”
He looks a little embarrassed. “Sid’s back was bad so I offered to do it.”
“I bet his back was bad,” I mutter, thinking of the lazy older man who can usually be found lying down in the apple orchard. “He spends enough time lying on it.”
He shakes his head, looking earnest. “No, it really is bad and he’s been with us a long time.”
“Let me guess,” I sigh. “He was nice to you as a child.”
He nods, flags of red on his cheeks. “Yes, he always used to sneak me and Henry food when we’d been sent to our rooms.”
I shake my head, wanting to both shout in frustration and also kiss him really hard. “This place is a little bit like a retirement home.”
He immediately shakes his head. “Oh no, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Most of the staff are old and I don’t mind helping out.”
“Didn’t you get in at one this morning?”
He shoots me a look because I know this. I did, after all, wait up for him. He doesn’t know that, of course. He thinks I was doing paperwork. However, as I’ve done for the last few weeks, I cooked him something and we sat talking and laughing for an hour. It’s become our routine and it’s something I secretly look forward to far too much. I’ve grown to love that late dead time when the whole house is quiet and it’s just us. To have his attention on me, his tired face lighting up when he comes through the door, is too much. I know I’m storing up trouble but I can’t seem to stop.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I’m going to get you a drink.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to,” he immediately and predictably protests.
“I know I don’t,” I say patiently. “Please allow people to do something for you.”
