The Thing About Samuel

Chapter Fourteen - Jason

Jason - July 2002

'I can't believe we got another job so quickly,' Jason congratulated excitedly.
​His dad laughed and shook his head as a wide grin spread across his face.
​'I know, I know. The Roberts' were very complimentary of our work to their friends and family, but I didn't think they'd find us another job so soon.'
​Jason and his dad had been driving for around twenty minutes. Having worked in the Roberts' house, he was expecting them to turn up to some other mansion-esque house and as they journeyed closer to their destination as marked on the large A-Z map Jason held in front of him, Jason tried to imagine what their next client would be like.
They had lived in Surrey all of their life; in fact, his mum and dad had never moved from the two up, two down terraced house for as long as he had been alive. He was thankful in a way that his mum and dad hadn't brought a brother or sister into the world for him as the thought of sharing bunk beds at eighteen didn't sound ideal. Imagine if Annabelle had come over and had to clamber up a creaky ladder onto a top bunk, and then they had to kiss so quietly and slowly that a younger sibling didn't call them out on it from below.
​'It should be the next left,' Jason offered, moving his focus back to the map.
​They were surrounded by fields for most of their drive, and as they turned down a country road, houses gradually started to pop up from behind the manicured bushes that symmetrically lined the side of the road. Eventually, small signposts stretched out from hedges with names – Barrowbank, Oak Cottage, Rivermead House and, finally, Ivy Lodge.
​'This is it, then,' Gary confirmed as he pulled their van over into a small gravelled nook canopied by evergreen shrubs. They couldn't enter the drive right away as all the houses down this road were fronted by tall gates and silver entry phones, much like the Roberts' home. The views up to the houses themselves were blocked by the thick, luscious greenery and tall white walls.
​'What do these people do for work to live in these kinds of houses?' Jason asked in disbelief, each word clumsily falling from his mouth in gasps of air.
​'We don't need to worry about that for now, Son. We should just be glad they chose us.'
They unfastened their seatbelts and climbed out of the van. Jason tried to glimpse as much of the property beyond the gate as he could. Only a few upper floor windows were visible where, for a split second, he thought he saw a face. With a private driveway and a hidden door, the house would likely be standing afront a huge garden.
He looked to his dad in pride, knowing that he deserved these projects for all the hard work he had put into starting and growing his business so far – even if he was still using his mum's handcrafted business cards.
A ripple ran down his dad's body which he shook off in his hands and feet before stepping up to the silver entry phone. He lifted a finger to press the 'call' button but before he could a voice crackled into life.
​'He-Hello?'
​'Hello,' his dad coughed. 'It's Mr. Knight. Gary Knight. Of Gary's Gardening.'
​'Oh y-yes! P-please, please come in. We will buzz the gates now. C-come on in!'
​'She sounded cheerful!' his dad smiled.
​'She sounded scared; and very posh!' Jason mocked quietly, but even so his dad thrust his finger to his lips to 'shush' him.
​They hurried back to their van, hopped inside, and kicked the engine back into life. The van rolled forward and turned the corner edging into the driveway slowly as the gates gently tracked back.
​And then, the residence was in view. A house that was fronted with large wooden planters made from what looked like old railway sleepers, turret-esque structures standing guard at either side of the house with balconies in each, and a grand six panel black door with silver loop knocker sat central in the entire fascia. White paint filled all the gaps between the web of dark wood structural beams, and every window featured a lattice pattern.
​'Wow...' Jason let the word escape his lips.
​'We thought the Roberts' garden was big... imagine what's behind this house!' His dad laughed.
​'You feel okay about this one?' Jason asked.
​His dad took a deep breath in. 'I think so! I guess they've already seen our work so they know what we can do. Let's just hope this meeting goes well. I'll park the van here.'
​His dad manoeuvred the van to park behind a large red metallic Range Rover and an icy blue coloured Jaguar. Jason knew that cars such as those suggested the owners had once worked in important roles within their careers – that had now most likely ended and had allowed for a relaxing and well-kept retirement.
​As they climbed down from their van, a rather athletic looking older gentlemen stepped out from behind the black door. A vertical blue striped shirt tracked over a big chest and hung looser over his abdomen. Below that sat a shiny leather belt and beige trousers which hung neatly above brown leather shoes. A white sweater hung like a cape over each shoulder and the sleeves looped at the base of his thick neck. Jason watched as the man threw his arm forward to shake his dad's hand, the 'Rolex' branding glinting from his wrist.
​'Gary!'
​'Yes.' Jason watched as his dad attempted to return an obviously iron-grip-like handshake.
​'John. And this is my wife, Wendy.'
​John gestured back towards the door where a timid woman peered from behind the grand front door. Jason could just about make out a blonde bob of hair, a red top, and white trousers in the shadow of the hallway. Jason could imagine the stuttered words that had crackled over the intercom at the gate coming from this quiet lady.
​'Roger recommends you most highly,' he continued. 'Please, do come in.'
​The hallway was unlike anything that Jason had seen before. Crisp white marble tiles turned the floor into a veined ice rink, and the light bounced from the snow-white walls. Above their heads, a crystal chandelier hung down the centre of a staircase that wound up two floors. Ebony stained wooden furniture proudly stood in the form of a side table on elegantly curling legs, and a heavy-set dresser, inside which various intricately decorated plates were displayed.
​'Wendy's collection, that. She loves to paint ceramic,' John smiled. 'More of a golf man myself!' He gestured to a tall bag leaning against the wall behind the door. 'You ever played?'
​Gary shook his head. 'No, no. Always been too busy!' Jason admired his dad's joke, though knew his dad worked every hour he could. The summer months was when they had the best potential to renovate as many gardens as possible in what with the longer and lighter days.
​'Come through to the garden, we can chat about what we would like to do. Out of interest, have you ever installed a pool?'
​John led them down the elaborate hallway and into an even grander kitchen. Shaker style furniture in a deep wine red topped with marble ran around the outsides of the kitchen. In the centre, an island stood with a glass cooker hood grandly hanging from a lofty ceiling. The marble top waterfalled over the edge and down to a lower height to form a long table under which were tucked some red leather chairs. Jason couldn't resist a squeeze of one as he walked by; the plushness and slight crackle in the leather stated their superior quality.
​To the other side of this vast room were some low, modern sofas sat atop a round chenille rug, and a TV – which Jason could only compare to a cinema screen – hung on the wall.
​And lastly, the vista of the garden. Black crittall windows spanned the entire width of the kitchen and in the centre two handles noted where the doors were out into the garden. Even now, Jason could see the grandeur of the project.
​A worn decking that matched the width of the house was what their feet met first. Pebbled areas to the left and the right offered places for large vases to house thick plants and small trees; Jason wondered if Wendy had perhaps painted those, too. Down the centre, an estuary of trodden grass began to widen from a single point. As it stretched to match the windows of the kitchen in expanse, it then travelled back to what felt like it should be the horizon. Down there, way down there, sat another round decking with a hot tub covered with a leather lid.
​'There's nothing more relaxing than a glass of wine, a book, and a long soak in the hot tub in these summer nights, you know? Would just be nice to have something nicer to look at! And I mean the garden!' John jested with a glance to his wife and then a masculine nudge to Gary. Jason winced slightly but hid his feelings on the remark with a half laugh.
​'So, what is it that you're looking to do?' Gary smiled as he took out his A4 lined pad, a pen that his mum had gifted him from Jason for Father's Day earlier this year and jotted down the name and address at the top of the page.
​Jason walked around behind his dad and John as they traversed the lawn and paused at various moments to understand their new clients' vision. As they approached the top of the garden, John outlined how he wanted to privatise the hot tub with a trellis and canopy that plants could climb up and over, and that Wendy might feed fairy lights through for the night time. Perhaps the guy wasn't as insensitive as he had first come across.
​It was then though, that a face appeared at the kitchen doors. A familiar one, and this time clad in much less clothes than the first time they had met. A long sleeved white top rolled up over two lean and slightly tanned arms, and covered most of the boy's torso, but the bottom half of his body was only tightly wrapped in a short pair of pink Calvin Klein sports shorts – and they definitely didn't leave much to the imagination, even at this distance. Jason felt his neck warm and turned his attention back to his dad and John's conversation.
​'So, how much will it be?'
​Gary laughed. 'You're very similar, you Roberts brothers! I'll need to take this home and chat it over with my son and cost up the materials. We can get a quote over to you this week if that's okay?' Gary smiled.

It wasn't long before they were back and starting their preparations on the garden. Another trait that the Roberts brothers seemed to share was that money was really no objection if it meant they got what they wanted – and they didn't like to wait.
​Jason had affixed a new sign that his mum had made for 'Gary's Gardening' to the bushes outside the front gate. It reminded him of something he had made in primary school with perfectly stencilled letters reading 'Gary's Gardening – Call For A Quote' followed by their landline number inked across white card then neatly backed and bordered by an aptly chosen forest green colour. It had also been laminated so shone quite nicely in the morning sun.
​This morning, the aforementioned sun was climbing its way into a crystal-clear blue sky basking them in light and starting to battle away the crispness of the cooler morning with its rays.
​'We should start by taking all this decking down and then removing the plants. We will head to the garden centre later this week to pick up some of the new ones once we've sorted the beds out a little.'
​Jason donned a pair of canvas gardening gloves and headed back towards the kitchen whilst his dad made a start on removing some of the excess and overgrown leafage further up the garden.
​As Jason grabbed hold of the first post and yanked, a voice chimed from the doorway.
​'Didn't realise having the garden done came with such a show,' Ryan remarked, as he sipped from a large white mug. Thankfully, this time he was wearing long chequered pyjama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt with a fading image of Steven Tyler on the front.
​'You're an Aerosmith fan?' Jason asked, moving the topic away from himself.
​Ryan laughed. 'I like some of their stuff. It's actually one of my dad's old t-shirts, I just find it comfy to sleep in. When I'm not sleeping naked, that is.'
​Jason felt his cheeks warm but instead chose to focus on pulling down the post between his hands.
​'One of my mates I play football with shares his same name, so we nickname him Doubtfire.'
​'Why Doubtfire?' Ryan asked as he stepped out from inside the kitchen and onto the decking.
​'You should be careful out here whilst we're doing this.'
​'Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself.'
​'I'm sure. We call him Doubtfire after the scene in Mrs. Doubtfire where Robin Williams is hoovering, dressed as the nanny, and singing to Dude Looks Like A Lady.' Jason gestured to Ryan's t-shirt. 'By Aerosmith.'
​'Oh... I don't feel worthy to be wearing this top. You know much more about them than me.'
​Ryan made no hesitation in setting down his coffee cup, whipping off the t-shirt and handing it to Jason.
​'Come on, take it. Or at least use it to dry away the sweat.'
​Jason's eyes were now level with a slender and athletically defined midriff, tantalisingly positioned above a loose waistline of the pyjama bottoms. He forced his eyes not to linger on Ryan's body, and instead moved them back to the fencing. But he couldn't deny that his heart was now thumping a little faster than it had been before.
​'How are you and Annabelle?' Ryan broke the tension by moving away and back towards the kitchen.
​'Yeah, good. Good.' Jason's mind was a whirl with confusion. Why did Ryan keep teasing him? Why was he so interested in Jason? And why would he bring up Annabelle, Jason's girlfriend, and his own cousin, when he was flirting with him?
​'She speaks highly of you. I can see why,' he grinned before disappearing back inside the house.
​Jason's chest relaxed, and he realised he had been forcing it to ache by holding back his breathing. He wiped his brow, and sighed.
​'Jesus.'

'Come on Jason!' Annabelle called from the side-lines.
​Jason turned, and waved before quickly spinning and side stepping back down the pitch towards Doubtfire, Jack, and Tom. The match had been arranged last minute. A few of the boys and Jason finding themselves in need of a game of five a side football to forget the crazy week they had all just had.
​Doubtfire had been taking accountancy exams as part of his training to become a fully-fledged accountant, and Tom was working his way up to become head chef at a local country restaurant. And, despite being incredibly good with his hands when it came to making food for them all, he was a terrible goalkeeper and they were down three-nil this match. Jason had almost just gained them one point but Oliver, a friend of Doubtfire's and also training as an accountant was tall, lanky, and barely had to move to stretch the width of the goalposts.
​'Maybe we should make their nets wider?' Jason panted to Tom and Doubtfire.
​A feat that sounds as though it would require groundwork, but in fact, during five-a-side in the summer months out on Darlington Park, they were fashioned from piles of bags, hoodies, and t-shirts rather than metal posts.
​'It...seems...only...fair,' Tom replied, breathless.
​''Cause you're a short arse,' Doubtfire remarked, and they laughed.
​Tom built up his chest with a large breath, held the ball in his hands, then took a few steps back in preparation to kick the ball as far as he could – not far, it turned out as it span sideways from his foot and met Jason's trainers.
​Jason's gaze flickered from Tom, to the determined faces of the other team running towards him. They were all wearing shirts, Jason's team were not. 'Shirts' and 'Skins' was how they determined who was on which team. They would swap at half time so that none of them got sunburnt and slapping the burn to sting their opponent didn't become a tactic of gameplay.
​Jason dribbled the ball and tapped it between the legs of Jonathon Gamble (Doubtfire's neighbour), a quick spin on his heel tricked Patrick Higgins (a guy from the sandwich shop they always visited for lunch when they were all at college together), and a kick forward and sprint outpaced Richard (Tom's brother) and gave Jason a free shot at lanky Oliver and his goalkeeping skills.
​He only had seconds to think as he knew somewhere behind him the team he had just manoeuvred his way around would be catching him back up. He took a breath in, positioned the ball quickly at his feet, and then took one step back – his eyes locked with Oliver's.
​'Go on, Jase!'
​The voice, as much as the nicknaming of 'Jase', caused him to look back over his shoulder.
​Ryan.
​'Jason, kick it!' Tom and Doubtfire chorused from behind him somewhere.
​Jason took one step forward, and thrust his foot towards the ball with all his remaining strength, but just as he did, a body came sliding in from his left, his ankles clinked together, the ball spiralled off, and his arm hit the ground first with a thud.
​
'I thought you were going to get that last goal!' Annabelle comforted with a beautiful rose lined smile.
​'Me too,' Ryan grinned.
​Jason looked at them both; an awkward discomfort hanging in the air between them.
​'Yeah. Me three. I didn't know you were coming down, Ryan.'
​'Annabelle invited me.'
​'Is that okay? Was that not okay?' Annabelle's voice sounded worried, and her hands made their way to Jason's forearms. Jason realised perhaps his frustration with the idea had flashed across his face. He softened his brow and smiled.
​'Of course, of course. Was just a... a surprise, is all. You guys want to go for some lunch or something?'
​'Definitely,' Annabelle cheered, before stepping onto her tiptoes and pulling Jason in for a kiss.
​As he felt Annabelle's warm, plush lips press against his, he placed his arms around her midriff and pulled her in closer. As he opened his eyes and smiled back at Annabelle, he noted Ryan over her shoulder, staring back with a slight annoyance. Was he jealous? As their eyes met, he shook his head and looked away.
​'Shall we go?' Annabelle grinned as she stepped back.
​Ryan pushed an excited smile onto his face.
​'Yes, let's get this 'man-of-the-match' a drink!' he said with a few firm pats to Jason's shoulders.