The Touch Ch. 16

The next morning I was at the garden centre before six o'clock but I could see that Maggie's Range Rover was not outside the house, they must have left for Dover really early. Emma had been right, I was going to miss the twins while they were away but what was really ridiculous was that I was already missing Maggie and it wasn't twelve hours since I last saw her.

Maggie telephoned me at the office on Saturday just to say that they had all arrived safely at her sister-in-law's farm near Dijon. I was good to hear her voice if only for a few minutes.

Mum was on one of her shifts where she had to work during the weekend and so on Sunday I went over to Maggie's house to check that everything was OK and secure and drove the VW Polo back so that I could take Emma out for a practice drive. When she got her provisional licence and started her driving lessons I had bought several sets of learner L Plates the re-usable sort that are made from a clingy plastic and just rub on and peel off. She was turning out to be a good steady driver and I didn't think it would be long before her driving instructor put her forward for her driving test.

Despite being cold it was a bright sunny day and so we took flasks of tea and coffee, sandwiches and crisps and drove down the A38, then turned off onto the A31 through the New Forest National Park and stopped at one of the woodland picnic areas with tables and benches to have our lunch, and I sat and tested her on her Highway Code. I should not have really been surprised but she got nearly every question right first time. Emma was in a bright, chirpy mood and fun to be with so we made a leisurely drive home in the afternoon and got back just before Mum came in from work.

I had promised Josh that I would meet him for a drink that night at the George & Dragon pub and so after dinner I drove the Polo back to Maggie's house and put it away in the garage, collected my Vespa and went into town. Josh and I spent a couple of hours playing darts and just talking lad's talk but it was still only just after ten when I got home. I had had a couple of pints of bitter and desperately needed a pee and went straight upstairs to the can.

As I came out of the bathroom I noticed that my bedroom door was slightly open and there appeared to be a light on in the room. Mum was downstairs watching the news on television, so if there was somebody in there it had to be Emma. What the hell was she up to, now! The door was only open a couple of inches and so I peered through the crack. At first I couldn't see anything except that the small reading light was on next to my old leather club chair.

Then I saw that Emma was sitting slumped down in the chair, her head was tilted backward over the low chair back, her eyes were closed and she was making tiny moaning noises. Then I realised why! She was wearing a white cotton night dress which was hitched up around her waist exposing her crotch and she was masturbating. I could clearly see her pussy and the dark patch of pubic hair above, her fingers fluttering in and out of her slit caressing and rubbing her clit and I could hear the liquid slurping sounds coming from her wet pussy.

Watching a girl play with her self is a major turn on for any man and watching Emma was a turn on for me even though she was my sister; I felt the familiar swelling starting in my jeans. I quickly moved away from the door and silently crept down the stairs. Ok, so I knew that all girls masturbate the same as all boys jerk off, it's a fact of teenage life, and it didn't shock me that my sister did it, but what was she up to; I knew she had been going into my room recently but why had she chosen my room to give herself a finger fucking. This really was on a level that I felt I could not discuss with Mum and so I decided just to put it to one side for the time being.

I made myself a coffee and took it through to the sitting room and sat talking to Mum until I heard Emma moving about upstairs and knew she had left my room then kissed Mum good night and went upstairs. I closed my door and had a look around the room; nothing seemed out of place although it did look as if Emma had been lying on my bed again. I went over to the old leather armchair and on an impulse bent down and sniffed the seat. There was a faint aroma of female pussy fluids, I felt an erection starting and so I slipped the bolt on my door, put out the light then stripped off and sat in the chair naked and slowly jerked off. My mind was filled with the picture of Emma's pussy and her white hand giving herself head, and my balls rested on the spot where her pussy fluids had dripped.

The next three days went remarkably smoothly. Fortunately the weather remained dry but cold so everybody was able to get on with the planned work. The steel erectors turned up with two very large cranes and by the end of the second day the main stanchions were bolted onto the footings and supporting cross beams were in place. On Wednesday the cranes hauled the roofing beams into place and by the end of the day the main framework was bolted and welded and ready for the glaziers to fit the glass panels.

Colin and Kitty spent the three days at Craven Lodge. I left them to it. I felt that both were totally trustworthy but when I drove over Wednesday afternoon I was astounded at how much work they had actually done. Several of the larger ornamental flower beds had been completely cleared of weed and the shrubs and perennials that were worth keeping had been tidied up or cut back as required. I was really pleased, it was important for customer satisfaction, that Georgia Craven should be able to see an instant result.

One of the first things that you learn as a gardener is that you keep a thermos flask of tea or coffee with you at all times, especially during the winter. We sat on the steps leading down from the terrace with our hot drinks and talked about what needed doing next.

"Manure!" Colin said in his rolling Welsh tones. "I need a good ton of quality live fertilizer for those flower beds, see. Dig that into the soil now boyo and we will be ready to start planting out about Easter time."

"OK," I agreed, "I'll get Emma on to it as soon as I get back to the office."

Colin was happy to carry on at Craven Lodge for the rest of the week; he intended to take the shears to the Leylandii hedge and so I said it would be a waste of resource having Kitty just holding the ladder for him so he could have Neville with him on Thursday and Mikey on Friday.

I had spent three half days at The Cedars with either Neville or Mikey assisting me and we had made similar progress although less dramatic and so I asked Kitty if she would take over there for the rest of the week, she would take the small van and Colin could use the Land Rover. I made a mental note that we really needed to start seriously looking for another vehicle if we were to have more than one team out on jobs at the same time.

I had left Mikey at the Cedars and so I picked him up and we got back to the garden centre just as the steel erectors were starting to dismantle their cranes. The wind had got up quite strong and it was starting to cloud up. Boris Keppel was on site overseeing the work and assured me that the glass fitting team would be starting in the morning and that it would be safe to allow the public back onto most of the site.

Emma was sitting at her desk in the office when I came in surrounded by deep piles of invoices and delivery notes, she had decided to use the three day closure to re-organise our filing system and, as she put it 'drag us kicking and screaming into the twentieth century'. I had to admit that she had made a first class job of it and the whole office was now well organised and efficient.

"Can you 'phone around the suppliers tomorrow and see if you can get us a ton of fresh organic manure?" I asked her, "It needs to go straight out to Craven Manor, just let Colin know when it's coming, I don't want it coming here, we already have enough on our plates without being up to our knees in horse shit!"

"I think I know where we can get loads of it, whenever we need it, and at a much better price than the merchants charge!" she said.

"Tell me," I said warily, expecting some sort of 'bull shit' joke.

"Shelby's Riding Stables!" she replied seriously, "Don't you remember, they always had great heaps of horse manure going begging and I'm sure Philippa Shelby would be more than happy to make a deal!"

I had almost completely forgotten Shelby's, it was a very large riding school and stables out on the Warminster Road, Emma, the Twins and I had all learned to ride there when we were about eleven and Emma and I had continued to ride every weekend until Dad left and the money ran out. I remembered Philippa Shelby as being a very attractive woman who would probably now be in her mid thirties. She was a former show jumping champion; her father had owned the business but had died several years ago and left it all to her.

"OK, that's a brilliant idea!" I said, "Fix something up with Philippa and we will go out there and have a chat. Be nice to see the place again."

By the time I had let the staff and builders out and locked up the main gates the wind was starting to get quite gusty and heavy rain clouds were gathering overhead and I had to put the floodlights on to be able to walk round and check that everything was locked up and secure for the night. I brought the Land Rover round to the front of the shop and loaded Emma's bicycle into the back, there was no point in her riding home in a storm.

"It's all fixed!" Emma announced as I came back into the office, "I have called Philippa and she is happy to do a deal, I said that we would go out to see her Monday or Tuesday next week, OK?"

"Yeah, that's great." I answered. I was desperately trying to remember what Philippa looked like, it was probably about three years since I last saw her and all I could recall was that she had shortish light brown hair, a wide smile and a firm, round arse in very, very tight jodhpurs.

We had an early dinner and I drove Emma to college for her evening class and decided to hang about town and wait for her. It had poured with rain and was still very cold and windy and so I just sat in the Land Rover outside the college and listened to a Bach CD on my Walkman.

Suddenly something banged hard against the tail gate and there was shouting and I could hear a girl crying. I opened the door and jumped down. There were three lads and a girl at the rear of the Land Rover, the older boy probably about my age had the girl on the floor and was holding her by her hair with one hand and slapping her with the other. The other two lads were about fifteen and were just standing watching with stupid grins on their faces. I've never been able to stand the idea of women being knocked about it always raised a deep Irish anger in me, what Dad used to call 'The Black Rage of the Fianna' and I wasn't about to put up with it now.

"Enough!" I barked advancing on the older lad, "Leave her alone!"

"Mind you own fucking business...and piss off!" he shouted at me and swung his leg back to give the girl on the ground a kick.

Before his foot could land I stepped in and threw a straight left which opened his cheek and then the three of them were on me in a pack. I was bigger and stronger and I knew that I was hurting them and nobody had actually landed a strike to me that hurt, but I also knew that if they got me down then I was going to be in serious trouble with three of them putting the boot in.

Then suddenly there was one less, one of the younger boys was on the ground clutching his groin and gasping for breath and I was aware that somebody else had joined the ruck. I swung a heavy backhanded fist at the other young one and felt his nose crunch, and then they were all running away. The girl had gone too; she must have slipped away during the fight.

I looked round at the guy who had come to my rescue, only it wasn't a guy, it was a girl! And what a girl, she was bloody gorgeous! This girl could have stepped straight off the pages of a fashion brochure or a Hollywood gossip magazine. She was as tall as me, with long flowing brown hair, a perfectly proportioned face, an hour glass figure and green eyes which flashed with an inner flame. She was dressed in skin tight blue jeans, brown leather cowboy boots and a white shirt with a frilly front beneath a short denim jacket. She wasn't wearing a wedding or engagement ring.

"Thanks!" I managed eventually when I had finished gaping like a moron. "Things were starting to get a bit hairy there for a while!"

She laughed. "Hell, you seemed to be doing OK, but I needed some exercise." she grinned. She was American, her accent was soft and rolling and just added to her overall sexiness.

"Well, I'm really glad you felt the need when you did," I chuckled. "It's Jamie, by the way." I held out my hand.

She shook it, her handshake was warm and firm, "Mandi .... Mandi Schultz," she offered.

"Not a lot of girls would have waded in like that," I said, "I think I at least owe you a drink or better still dinner," I offered, "What are you doing on Saturday night?" She just stood and studied me for a good thirty seconds.

"I guess I am having dinner with you." she replied eventually, smiling broadly.

"OK, yes ..... yes .... That's good," I burbled idiotically, I hadn't really believed that she would accept just like that. I fished two of my business cards out of my pocket and handed them to her with a pen. "That's me, Jamie Riley, " I stated unnecessarily, "Just write your address and 'phone number on one and I will pick you up about eight, OK?"

She scribbled on the card and handed it with the pen back to me. It was another hour before Emma finished her class and I was about to ask Mandi if she would like to get a drink or a coffee when we were surrounded by a bunch of female college students who were obviously her friends.

"I have got to go now!" she said, "These gals were just showing me around their college, but I'll see you on Saturday, yeah?" She turned and followed her friends off towards the street, I watched her go ..... if she looks back she's interested my Dad used to tell me, as they reached the gate she turned back and gave a little wave then tossed her hair and was gone.

I got back into the cab of the Land Rover and put the light on; the address on the card was the Milford Hall Hotel, one of the better end places to stay. She must be a tourist I thought. I tucked the card safely into my wallet; I needed to think of somewhere really decent that I could take her for dinner on Saturday. I also decided that I wouldn't tell Emma about the punch-up or about Mandi, she could sometimes get a bit peculiar and protective about my dates.

Thursday and Friday both turned out to be cold, windy and wet days and so all plans of working outside on the gardening projects had to be postponed and the glaziers informed me that it would be too dangerous for them to start work on the canopy over the yard. I was not that worried as the building work was well ahead of schedule and Boris Keppel had re-assigned his own people to get on with some of the inside work in the restaurant.

It looked as though the foul weather might continue for several days and so I suggested to him that as one of the shop units was now finished we move the garden centre shop into it temporarily and his people could start work extending the shop in the old farm house buildings and putting in new staff facilities, most of that work was inside and would keep the builders busy for several days regardless of the weather conditions. Now that we had more staff of both sexes we needed dedicated men's and women's staff lavatories and had decided to extend the old locker room and put in a couple of showers and changing rooms. With everybody on site it was all hands to the mill and by the end of Friday we had relocated the shop stock from the old building into the new unit. Maggie 'phoned again on Friday morning to say that she would definitely be coming home Monday morning, the twins had settled in well, they would be happy as their aunt had horses and they were both fanatical riders. Maggie and I just chatted for a few minutes about nothing in particular; neither of us even mentioned work.

I had promised Emma that I would take her to the 'Pharaohs' gig at the Corn Hall in Devizes on Friday evening. She was ready and waiting to go by the time I had changed. She had put on a bit of weight in the right places over the past couple of months and was wearing her usual black sweater and leggings but now filled them really well. Her hair was brushed and Mum had done her make-up for her, I had to admit that she looked rather tasty that night. The gig was due to start at eight and as it was only 25 miles away we left about seven-thirty in Mum's car and managed to get parked in a nearby street, and discovered that there was already quite a large queue at the Corn Hall waiting to be let in. I paid for the tickets and we pushed our way into the Merchant Suite in the basement. It was quite crowded and we fought our way to the bar to get drinks before the warm up band started playing.

"What do you want?" I shouted to Emma, there was music already playing, the band was tuning up and everybody was talking so it was already quite noisy.

"Vodka and tonic!" she shouted back, indicating that she wanted a tall one. Mum had never actively discouraged either of us from drinking alcohol, we had been allowed watered table wine from about age eleven and as an adult 'legally' able to drink I had developed a taste for good Scotch. I had never known Emma to drink spirits, but this was her night out, and so I wasn't going to argue with her over it, maybe it made her feel grown-up and she had certainly been acting in a very adult fashion lately. I was driving so I just had a Coke; I really wasn't much of a social drinker anyway.

There were only two live bands, the warm up act, called 'Wandering Hands' who were quite good with an excellent drummer, and 'The Pharaohs' who as normal were top notch. The hall was crowded hot and noisy and everybody was crammed together with a lot of dancing happening all evening. Emma was really enjoying herself and shook her glass at me asking for a refill a couple of times, but on the third ask I shook my head, she pouted a bit but accepted my decision, the gig was drawing to a close anyway. I had to admit that I had enjoyed the evening too; Emma was a lot of fun we joked and mucked about the way we used to and we both did a lot of jumping about, I even danced with her several times.

The gig turned out about ten-thirty and everybody stampeded out onto the street, a lot of the locals gathering around the old fountain in the square. As we made our way back to the car I noticed that the cold air had hit Emma hard and the vodka was taking effect, she was swaying slightly and had started to giggle a bit.

As we got back into the Salisbury suburbs I pulled into a filling station to replace Mum's petrol and bought a couple of take-away coffees in paper cups, drove a couple of hundred yards further down the road and stopped in a lay-by.

"Here," I said handing her one of the cups, "Sip some of this, I don't want Mum thinking that I took you out and got you rat-arsed."

She giggled, "I am a bit pissed, aren't I?" I was just glad that she didn't show any signs of wanting to throw up. We drank the coffees and I took the cups over to the rubbish bin then got back into the driver seat, she seemed to be a bit steadier and less giggly.

"Thanks for a lovely time, Jay," Emma said, "I really enjoyed myself." She did seem happy, she was smiling and her eyes were sparkling and she looked really cute. She hooked her arm through mine and hauled herself up close to me resting her head on my shoulder and I put my arm around her. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my neck and her lips were gently pressed against my jaw, soft and warm and wet. I turned my head to speak to her and her lips were suddenly only a few millimetres away from mine, the tips of our noses were touching and then her hand came up and lightly pulled my face forward and we were kissing.