“Living room. Comes furnished.”
Two white sofas faced each other on either side of a black coffee table, one against a wall, one some distance from the patio doors…bifolds. The side would open into the garden. Two white chairs took up the space on one side of the table with a black chest of drawers behind and black side tables, across from a black ornate fireplace with a gold mirror above.
“No television?”
Richard winked, the twinkle in his eyes more animated than Ethan had seen in some time. Since they last had sex, anyway. “We’ll get to that.”
Whatever did Richard mean?
The next room Richard escorted him to came with the walls lined with black shelving units along one wall, and a long white sofa which might sit maybe eight people on the other. Here, in the middle of the unit, stood a large television. Though he couldn’t call the room grand, it had to be the equivalent of a rich man’s ‘snug’.
“They’ve overdone the black maybe.”
“I agree, though it works.”
The comment echoed Ethan’s thoughts. The design shouldn’t work. All the rooms so far contained a ‘sameness’, but he liked each one nonetheless. Maybe the taupe-grey paint used softened the motif.
“Next…we go upstairs.”
Hard to interpret the glance Richard gave him but Ethan followed. Perhaps the rich boy brought him here for illicit purposes.
“There’s a lift?”
“Is it disapproval I hear?” Richard stepped into the glass-backed compartment. “I wouldn’t usually use it but our time here is limited and I want to show you everything. I wouldn’t put one in for my own use but new builds all need to be suitable for access. This is large enough for someone using a wheelchair.”
Ethan hadn’t considered that possibility, though most houses still couldn’t put in a lift. He stepped inside and, faster than he thought possible, stepped back out.
“Spacious master bedroom with two dressing rooms and two bathrooms. Further four bedrooms with—”
“Wait.” Ethan interrupted him. “Two dressing rooms and bathrooms to one main bedroom?”
Richard nodded and pointed. “If you don’t believe, you can see with your own eyes.”
Shit. The master had two chairs and a table. Electric opening curtains, French doors and a balcony. A chandelier hung from the ceiling.
Finally there came a break in the monochromatic theme. The dressing rooms came with solid wood; all honey brown and golden light. Ethan walked along, exploring bedrooms and bathrooms of which there were five and six respectively.
They went back downstairs.
“A particular feature on the lower ground is the stunning spa…”
Richard didn’t joke. Deep grey walls and floor tiles offset dark brown and glass shelves. Ethan pictured them lined with expensive toiletries and products he’d never afford.
“Indoor pool.” Richard winked but he didn’t pause, hardly allowing Ethan enough time to note the deep blue water, white room, broken with one brown wall, brown curtains framing more French doors leading out to the garden. White loungers lined one side of the curved pool.
“Games room and bar.”
More grey and white but some colour was present in the deep maroon chairs. A room to the side had hexagonal shelving. “Wine storage,” Ethan said. For the first time since Richard started showing him around, the other man stared at the floor. Did something in Ethan’s voice give a hint of his emotions—feelings Ethan struggled to identify. Richard was wealthy. He knew. Always had. Why then did this feel as though Richard strove to put him in his place?
“Fully equipped cinema.” Richard no longer sounded happy.
Lights shone inwards from a square in the ceiling and up and down on the walls, creating subdued lighting which spread in fan shapes around the room. No doubt, the lights dimmed when the entertainment began. Three rows of three seats in deep maroon faced a screen covering one side, and the lighting bounced off the seats, throwing purple tones on the walls. “Okay, this is tempting.” This room he could die in so Ethan let himself dream.
The sombre look vanished from Richard’s face, as he lifted his head, and beamed. Why did Richard care what Ethan thought of this place?
“Two bedroom staff apartment. Come. I must take back the keys. We can talk on the way.”
Not until they were back in the van did Ethan note how long they’d wandered around the house. There was much to see, though.
Richard sat, silent. They almost reached the agents when he said, “I want to live there. For me. I can’t…” Richard shook his head. “I can’t continue in the manor. Not only is it, indeed, a mausoleum, it will always be my parents’ house. It’s their style…or I should say lack of. Mother tends to choose what she thinks impresses, not what she likes.”
Ethan’s grip tightened. The van swerved a little, earning him a strange glance from Richard, which he ignored. Did Richard not realise how impressive the place was they’d just left? More homely, of course, and naturally Richard meant to buy the house. No other logical reason existed, but it meant…they’d go their separate ways.
“It’s not all, though. I want to sell the business. Or…Well, there are other options, but the point is, I don’t want to run it. I have my own occupation in mind. Something planned. I guess I’m being cheeky wanting to branch out, use the existing company to finance my ideas, but…Let’s not discuss all that now. It’s too much. Too much to think about some days, even for me.”
No reason for Richard to share any of his plans with Ethan, so the fact he did came as a surprise.
“Point is, I don’t want to continue the way things are.”
“What’s your mother going to say?”
“You know what but there’s not a lot she can do. She might try to influence the board, but I own the main share and my sister owns a little less. My mother controls the least. I’m not pretending there aren’t…implications. My relationship with my mother, for one thing. But am I supposed to do what makes me miserable?”
Ethan parked. “Most people have to.” He stared ahead not at Richard, his grip on the wheel now painful. “You’d better get those keys back. Sorry. I can’t park any closer.” The side street was a road away from the address.
Another few seconds passed before Richard jumped out. Ethan tapped the wheel and stared ahead. Ethan’s overheated emotions welcomed the chill air Richard brought into the van on his return.
“So there are things you’ve not told your mother about the business.” Ethan sat with his left hand on his thigh, his right gripping the top of the steering wheel, staring over the line of parked cars to the end of the row. “What about your personal life?”
The continued silence was expected. Ethan waited a few beats, swivelled his head to the left to gaze at his passenger. “Do you ever plan to tell her you’re gay?”
“Of course I do.”
“When? And don’t say at the right time. There isn’t a right time in your situation.”
Richard’s lips twisted a little, and he made a sound, pushing out air through his nose, so his derision filled the space. “Did you find it so easy?”
“Yes.” Ethan met Richard’s stare. “My mother died when I was young but she already knew. My father…” Ethan took his gaze to the windscreen. “We never needed to talk about it. He simply knew, and accepted it. I overheard my parents talking one night a short time before she died. I didn’t understand everything they said, but in time, I did. It stuck in my mind because I eavesdropped on a lot while she was ill. People think children don’t understand half the things they do, and when they know something’s wrong if they aren’t told the truth they seek it. My parents were open with me but even they tried to protect me rather than explain it all. Doesn’t matter. My parents always told me more with a hug than with words.”
“Not quite the outcome I imagine for me.”
He expected more signs of contempt or ridicule, not for Richard’s voice to go soft. Ethan detected somethi
ng surprising: envy.
“Me neither. Your mother’s not going to like it. She’ll like it less if she ever found out you’d been with me. Not great reasons for you to live a lie.”
“Maybe not, but what my mother does may influence what happens with the company and I’d rather sort that problem out first.”
Ethan nodded. “You’re hiding who you are to improve the chances to get what you want.”
“Maybe. But I’m more concerned with how this will affect my sister. How it will affect those who work for the company. You need to understand how the woman thinks. If Ruby finds out about my sexuality now, she’ll assume every decision I’ve made is wrong. I’m misguided or easily influenced. She’ll presume I lack the strength to lead.”
“Why would she think being gay is weak?”
“My mother believes it’s something a person chooses. She believes it’s something one is talked into or drapes over one’s shoulders like a season’s fashion accessory. I considered whether I could use it to my advantage. Maybe use it to entice her to sell, but I don’t want to manipulate anyone to that kind of extent and it’s risky. She may challenge every company related proposal or decision I make. In fact, she likely will, but as she might try to influence several members of the board, alienating her more is too great a risk.”
“But she’ll challenge you.”
“True. Particularly with one proposal. Something we’re toying with she may detest more than the idea of selling.” Richard shook his head. “I can’t say more but you’ll hear soon enough.”
By ‘we’ did Richard mean his sister? What were the two of them concocting to make their mother stand against them? What might they be planning to keep their mother on side? The spoilt little rich boy performed a juggling act. Richard thinking of the company’s employees said much, but why had Richard not spared Ethan’s father a thought? Having mentioned him, he’d provided Richard with the perfect opening to say more and he still said nothing.
Ethan tightened his grip on the steering wheel, yet to restart the engine and move off. Richard appeared willing to talk so Ethan sat quiet, staring out the front, the smell of pine still on his clothes.
“We don’t need the company. I don’t need to work. My mother no longer needs the stress, not as she ever had much to do with the business when my father was alive. Her interest is all down on paper, not in actions or decision making. We can sell the company and all live in comfort for the rest of our lives. Makes for rather unproductive lives in too many ways. I couldn’t stomach it so I must do something with my life, but marketing isn’t the kind of business I want to be involved in.”
All this talk of how much money the Gardeners’ had made Ethan grit his teeth. Richard’s attitude didn’t strike him as boastful, but…all the wealth, and no help for his father. Ethan closed his eyes. “What would you want to do?”
“If I were shot of the company, I could find my way.”
An ambiguous answer. Ethan snorted. He met Richard’s gaze. “Sorry but you’ve studied and travelled all these years. Forgive me for not feeling sorry for a man who still doesn’t know what he wants to do yet.”
Colour bloomed in Richard’s face. He swallowed. “I wouldn’t blame you, and I meant to let you in on one of my plans but I’m not sure I should tell you now.”
“Why?”
“The way you’re acting you have to ask? Because I don’t wish to discuss something doesn’t mean I’m clueless. I worked for the firm at times. Some of the travelling was work related not fun, and some I chose to do for myself. What mother doesn’t appreciate is I’m more than qualified to step in my father’s shoes. But I don’t want to.”
“And if he hadn’t died?” Ethan narrowed his gaze, sending daggers Richard’s way. “Maybe your mother is right. Maybe you are weak. Did you intend to do what your father wanted you to? Would you have fallen in line for fear of being written out of the will?”
“Our interests in the company don’t work quite that way.”
Ethan slapped the steering wheel. “Damn it, Richard, you know too bloody well what I’m saying.”
“Of course I do, and while I don’t disagree, who the hell are you to judge me?”
“If you tell me to walk in your shoes so help me—”
“What about walking in your own? You don’t like working for us so I’m not the only one who’s done something to please his family.”
Ethan fell silent. He turned the ignition. “Things aren’t so simple.”
“They seldom are.”
“Whatever.” Ethan didn’t want to talk anymore. “Doesn’t matter to me. We just have sex, remember. We’d better get this tree back so you can all play happy families.” He ignored Richard’s expression, feverish, gaze overly bright, ears red. A deep hurt, if he wasn’t mistaken, shining out of the man’s eyes.
* * * *
“What in the world is that?” Once again Ruby Gardener stood on the stairs, her claw-like grasp clutching at the handrail.
Seemed obvious but relieved she hadn’t come down while he and Ethan wrestled it into position, Rich answered. “A Christmas tree.”
“I can see that! I meant what is it doing here?”
“Then that’s what you should have asked.”
“I don’t want that thing in the house.”
“I know that, and I understand why.”
Silence. Rich awaited the argument but seconds ran into at least a couple of minutes before Ruby said, “If you understand, why torment me?”
“I don’t mean to.” He still didn’t look at her but adjusted the tree’s position a few inches to the left. “I got this for Sapphire.”
“Why?”
How to explain? At last Rich stopped fussing with the tree and faced his mother. “Look, I know any holiday season is difficult when a loved one’s gone, especially if it’s the first one, but you and Dad…neither of you cared much. Christmas was always for me and Saffie. And I want to try to make one thing about this place warm and welcoming for her. Can’t you see that if you want your daughter…If you want your daughter and your son to stick around, we need to feel part of a family. We need to feel welcome. We need this place to have some sense of home.”
Maybe the declaration would get through to her. If only they could talk.
“The damn thing will shed its needles all over the place.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up but if he let it out he’d sound like a maniac. A deep breath eased his frustration but doubtless anything could extinguish it. “The sales office guaranteed this one can last up to six weeks with the right care. And we’ll keep it in the hall here where it’s cooler.”
“Don’t expect me to decorate the stupid thing, and next time you use up so much of the gardener’s time maybe you should ask first. You may own the company but this is my house.”
“About that…” Maybe not the time to mention it; her gaze narrowed and grew dark with what had to be suspicion. “The house is large for a single person. Even for three.”
“You think I don’t know that. God, Richard, you’re like one of the vampires who always hang around hoping to suck a sick wealthy man dry.”
“That’s unfair.”
The accusation at least made her pause. “You’re right, it is. And though I can’t read your mind, I know you’ll have ideas that won’t tally with mine. Some things never change.”
“And some things ought to.”
This time he rattled her. Blinking eyes turned watery. Her jaw moved in tight snapping motions as though she were a hungry zombie. The whole encounter took on an atmosphere of Halloween rather than Christmas.
Before Rich could say anything more, a shrill sound rang out from above. “A treeeeee.” Saffie hurried down, skipping over the steps as she did as a teenager. She danced around the trunk, caressing the silvery sprigs and smelling the rich scent transferred to her fingers.
“You never said we were having a tree.”
Though Saffie’s excitement and open delight brou
ght a smile to his face and a warmth to his heart more cosy than any seasonal scene, he spared his mother an apologetic glance, but she no longer stood on the stairs. Somewhere in the midst of Saffie’s excitement, she had slipped away.
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I picked it up with Ethan late this afternoon.”
“Thank Ethan for me.” Though her gratitude was no doubt genuine, his sister was too absorbed with a simple pleasure. “Are you going to help me drag the decorations out or do I need to fetch Ethan for that, too?”
“I’ll help.” He looked forward to it, his only regret being that he couldn’t ask Ethan to join them. “If we keep it low, maybe we can even put on a little Christmas music.” A risky suggestion but his sister’s giggle was worth it.
Chapter 14
“You’ve worked here…like…forever?”
So distracted by the events of the last day was Ethan, what felt like a full minute passed before Dan’s question sunk in. Ethan stared at the weed between his feet, amazed they cropped up even in inclement weather. “Persistent buggers.” Hard to tell whether he cursed the plant or talked about him or Richard. With a trowel, he pried out the plant ignoring the fact, in his imagination, he was able to hear it screaming. Or cursing him right back.
He remained crouched but at last looked at Dan. “I wouldn’t call it forever.”
Dan’s brow creased. “But do you like working here?”
If the young man tried to hide his feelings, he didn’t do it well. Genuine puzzlement rang out. “Sounds like you don’t.”
Dan dipped his head and stared at the ground.
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”
“That’s just it. I think.” Dan stared away as if he spied something riveting on the horizon. “I think I’m gonna hand in my notice.”
“You got something else?”
Took Dan a few seconds but he gave a nod.
“Good. Hope it works out for you.”
“You’re not annoyed?”
“You don’t work for me as such. Why should I be? You’re entitled to do what you want with your life.”
Flowers for the Gardener Page 15
