The Touch Ch. 30

"Ms Craven will be with you in a few minutes," the receptionist told us. She was an attractive brunette, probably about my age, with a slim figure but quite generous tits and a round firm arse and hips, wearing a beige knee length skirt and a plain white blouse, her badge told me that she was 'Lorna -- Trainee Receptionist'. "Would you like a coffee, or tea? There is water on the table." She added smiling at me sweetly. She held eye contact with me until I smiled back.

We both declined hot drinks. "If you change your mind or want anything at all, I am just outside," Lorna said directly to me and then quietly left closing the door behind her after a final glance back and smile. I noticed that she had dark brown, limpid 'come to bed' eyes.

Maggie and I both stood in silence until we were sure she was clear of the door and then both started to quietly giggle. "It looks as though you have made another conquest there," Maggie chuckled, "just try not to flirt with her when 'Scary Georgia' is around, we do not want her to get all protective again the way she did with 'Miss Thunder-Thighs', you would probably get the poor girl the sack!"

"But I did not do anything! I didn't even ..... " I stopped mid-sentence as the door re-opened and Georgia entered followed by Carl Olsen and another younger man I did not recognise who just nodded hello politely and then took the seat at the head of the table. Carl Olsen shook hands with Maggie and I and took her to one side of the table and Georgia clasped my hand lightly and then to my surprise gave me a swift air-kiss, her cheek and hair just brushing my face for an instant.

"You get to sit with me," she laughed guiding me to the chair on the other side of the table so that I was sat opposite Carl and she was beside me facing Maggie.

"Are we are all ready to start?" Georgia opened, "I will firstly apologise that the lawyers present out-number the clients, however there is a very good reason for this." She turned to me to explain, I guessed that Maggie already knew the drill. "Craven, Olsen and Partners are the solicitors acting for both parties in this matter, Carl as you know is Maggie's personal solicitor and I am the partner who normally deals with legal business advice on behalf of De Vere Garden Centre Ltd., but I am also Jamie's personal lawyer," she said to the room in general, laying her hand lightly on mine and I felt her nudge my knee with hers beneath the table conspiratorially. "This could be construed to cause a conflict of interests for the purposes of this transaction, and so I have chosen to act for Mr. Riley today, and have asked one of our associates, Mr. Kevin Scales to act as impartial chairman and adjudicator, if this is agreeable to all present?" We all gave our agreement.

In the end the business was all quite straight forward. Mr. Scales guided us through the formal documents which made me a salaried shareholding director of the company, the values of investments and holdings for both Maggie and I were disclosed and approved and the shareholding allocations and status for we two, Gwen, Emma and the twins formalised. Carl and Georgia spoke to Maggie and myself for a few minutes privately just to ensure that we were both satisfied with the agreement. Contracts were signed and exchanged, Georgia passed my investment cheque to Kevin Scales and we were done; I was now officially a director personally owning something over a quarter of the business, with the formal title of 'Joint Managing Director' a little bonus that Maggie had insisted upon.

We all shook hands formally and then Carl and Mr. Scales made their excuses and left.

"Well congratulations to both of you," Georgia smiled and hugged both of us in turn. "Will you let me buy you both a cheap pub lunch to celebrate?" We both agreed enthusiastically, and we strolled around the corner to the old Haunch of Venison pub in Minster Street, Maggie clutching my arm on one side and Georgia on the other. This was a completely different Georgia Craven to the one that I thought I knew; she had surprised me the last couple of times that we had met by connecting on a more personal level, maybe even flirting a little, now she was being really warm and friendly, I must admit I was puzzled.

The Haunch of Venison is a very ancient pub which has been a hostelry continuously since the thirteenth century, full of character with oak beams, hidden nooks and crannies and even a mummified hand reputed to be that of a cheating gambler from the 16th Century, still clutching a hand of cards in a glass case set into the wall.

Lunch was excellent we sat at a small round table in the long upstairs dining room, with it's oak beamed walls, strap ceiling and pebble glass lattice windows. Maggie and I both choose the dish of the day, bangers and mash, with garden peas and rich onion gravy, and Georgia ordered the thick cut Wiltshire ham with new potatoes and salad and each of us indulged in a pint of powerful Stowford Cider to wash the food down.

I quickly discovered that we all had quite a lot in common. I already knew that Georgia had a common interest in classical music but I also discovered that she shared a quirky passion of mine that I had obsessed over since childhood; anything to do with Robin Hood. I had a quite extensive collection of books about the English folk hero; I think the classic book 'The Life and Adventures of Robin Hood' by John B Marsh was the first book that I can ever remember buying for myself, I was about eight and discovered a battered copy of the 1904 edition at a jumble sale and bought it for a few pence with my pocket money, and that book started a life long love affair both with the stories and reading. It turned out that Georgia had had a very similar encounter with the legend and we contrived selfishly to bore Maggie for a good ten minutes with facts and stories about our joint obsession.

I also discovered how Maggie had come to know Georgia socially; they both belonged to the same golf club and regularly played in a ladies monthly competition. I knew that Maggie still played golf, and I knew that Gwen used to be her regular partner years ago but had had to give up the expensive membership to the golf club after Dad disappeared.

"Do you play golf, James?" Georgia enquired.

"Yes, sort of..." I replied. "I took lessons through my school until I was about fifteen, but then it rather went by the board. I don't even have a set of clubs anymore." I had really enjoyed golf but as with Mum's club membership, my lessons were a casualty of enforced economies. I had sold my prized golf clubs to buy family Christmas presents the year that Dad left.

In fact at fourteen or fifteen I was quite a good all rounder sportsman, I played rugby, tennis and golf all pretty well, and both Emma and I were considered to be star pupil riders by Philippa Shelby who regularly entered both of us in gymkhanas and junior jumping events, and with Mum's coaching I had started to become an enthusiastic sailor.

"That's excellent!" Georgia enthused, "I will arrange for you to have some refresher sessions with the club professional so that you can get your handicap certificate, and then I will propose you for membership." I started to open my mouth to protest but she just drove through, "No arguments, I insist! Golf is an essential skill for a young man who wants to get ahead... it can gain you valuable contacts, and is indispensable for networking with business associates. Don't you agree Maggie?"

"Well actually, yes I do." Maggie put in. I was trapped. "Besides, I think I could be just the outlet you need to take your mind away from work, sometimes."

I threw up my hands and laughed. "OK then, I surrender! It seems that golf is now on the agenda; but I want it noted for the record that I am not doing this just to please you two, I had already decided to buy myself a new set of clubs, I just hadn't got around to it." It wasn't a total lie, as soon as they had started talking golf the thought had sprung into my head that I might like to play again so I had had the idea in mind for a least two or three minutes.

We all chuckled. "Perhaps you could persuade your mother to start playing again," Maggie suggested. Now there was a GOOD idea. Golf would be something that Gwen and I could do together without drawing undue attention to our covert relationship. I could probably also partner with Maggie sometimes... it was beginning to shape up like a REALLY GOOD idea.

"I saw him first!" Georgia put in laughing, "You know how desperate I am for a good male partner when playing with business contacts." She squeezed my arm and nudged my knee with hers again. "We will work out a time share agreement, James; and let you know who gets to partner you and when," she grinned. She squeezed my arm again, "Trust me; I'm a lawyer." She chuckled.

We were all laughing when we left the pub. I promised to call in at Craven Manor to see how work was progressing in the next couple of days and then I watched Georgia walk away down Minster Street towards her chambers, she was wearing her usual black pin-stripe business suit, the knee length skirt very tight around her arse and hips, well shaped legs sheathed in black silk stockings and her dark hair loose and ruffled by the breeze.

Maggie nudged me hard in the ribs with her elbow. "You are thinking very dangerous thoughts, my lad." She chuckled, "Scary Georgia would eat you for supper. In retrospect I think you would be safer trying to date that receptionist; Lorna, wasn't it?"

She slipped her arm around my waist, hugged me close and then reached up to kiss me gently on the cheek, "Just remember, I have a vested interest in you, Jamie Riley," she teased, "you are not just my nephew, you are now my business co-director as well; if you are going to partner anybody at golf then I think it should be me, I could get jealous, I like having you all to myself."

We both laughed as we started to walk up Minster Street, but her comment about being jealous gave me a tingling feeling in the balls even if it was just a joke.

Our final business meeting for the day was with the bank manager. I glanced at my watch and was surprised that it was already nearly two thirty, but the bank, Coutts and Company, was only just across the road from where we were standing. It was the first time that I had met the branch manager, Mr. MacDonald, my previous minor personal banking affairs had been handled by one of the assistant managers, but Maggie had always been a substantive client and warranted the branch manager's personal attention.

Our business was fairly simple, signatures required to confirm the change of business status and name of the garden centre and confirmation that Maggie, I and Gwen would in future be signatories on the business account able to issue cheques and deal directly with bank on matters relating to the bank account. Mr. MacDonald was formal but pleasant and welcomed me as an investing client and made some suggestions how best to handle the balance of my inheritance capital to get the best benefit which advice I was pleased to accept as it was pretty well in line with the guidelines I had been given by Uncle Arthur. Our meeting was concluded in just under an hour and we emerged into the afternoon sunshine just as the bank was closing for the day.

We both had some personal shopping to do in town but there was no real urgency to get back to the garden centre and we decided to stop for a cup of coffee at the Copper Kettle café just around the corner in Silver Street before splitting up.

We sat at a window table watching the passers-by and sipping our coffees. "I have one or two errands to do and I have booked to have my hair washed and cut at four-thirty," Maggie told me, "Shall we meet back at the car about half past five?"

"That suits me fine," I agreed. "Actually, I was thinking that perhaps we could stay in town and go somewhere nice for a meal this evening, unless you would prefer to go home first and change?"

"Oh Jamie darling, I am so sorry," she said. "The idea is lovely, but I can't tonight, I have a date .... I am going out to dinner with a guy that I met at the Salisbury Business Forum, he has been calling me for weeks asking me out and I only finally agreed a couple of days ago... I really am sorry."

"Oh right..... that's OK we can do it some other time," I muttered smiling weakly.

Maggie was going out on a date with a man. I was absolutely floored. I knew that it was totally irrational, I had no claim to her and she was a beautiful and sexy woman who was without a partner, it was natural that sooner or later she would want to date; I just wasn't prepared for it to happen right now, when things were going so well. I had built up a little fantasy around Maggie and this had burst the bubble. I knew that she could sense that I was pissed-off, it must have shown on my face, but I tried hard to conceal that I was actually completely devastated.

The next five minutes before we left the café were a bit uncomfortable, I genuinely did try hard not to show my true feelings but I felt surly and irritable and that was probably reflected in my face and body language although Maggie was kind and pretended not to notice. I was being a pratt and I hoped that she believed that I was just sulking over having my plans for the evening squashed.

I watched her turn down onto High Street and then lit a cigarette and walked in the opposite direction, hands thrust deep in my pockets like a kid in a sulk, through Fish Row to Milford Street and Chas. H. Baker the tailors; I had ordered a new made-to-measure business suit a couple of weeks before and had arranged to collect it that afternoon. The suit was even better than I had expected, a charcoal grey wool pin-stripe three piece, with waistcoat and an extra pair of trousers, the tailor had advised ordering two pairs as suit jackets always outlived the seat of the trousers. I purchased a couple of new shirts and ties to wear with the suit charging them to my newly set up 'gentleman's account' and left the shop.

Whilst preening in front of the tailor's mirror I had noticed that I too could do with a hair cut, I always started to look a bit shaggy if my hair was allowed to grow long and resolved to come into town to my barber later in the week, then suddenly realised that the uni-sex hairdressers shop where Sharon Cooper worked was only just around the corner in Winchester Street and that she had told me that she cut men's hair as well as ladies. In the past when I was fed up or depressed good old Sharon had always cheered me up and I needed cheering up now so I walked briskly up the road until I found the short terrace of commercial buildings.

I was pleasantly surprised; the shop was very modern, tastefully decorated with brand new fittings, basins and chairs, and comprised of some six chairs individually owned by self employed hairdressers of whom Sharon was one, there appeared to be three other girls and two guys. Sharon was with a customer but came over and gave me a big hug as soon as I stepped through the door.

"It is so good to see you, Jamie," she beamed. Her pleasure was so obviously genuine that just seeing her made me feel a bit better immediately. "Are you just passing, or have you come to see me?"

"Actually I was hoping that you might be available to give me a haircut?"

"Oh Jamie, I'd love to," she smiled, "BUT, I am fully booked today until nearly seven o'clock.... Unless you feel like coming back then... the shop will be closed and I will give you a haircut for free and even throw in supper if you feel like risking my cooking?"

"That sounds really great," I enthused, "But why don't I cook for you... you will have been working all day, I'll accept a freebee trim if you let me bring the food and cook the supper in exchange?"

"OK it's a deal, I'll see you this evening," she smiled, then reached up and gave me a kiss lightly on the lips, "It really is fantastic to see you again, Jamie."

I walked back into town, calling in at Pritchett and Son, the butchers, in Fish Row to buy four really nice lamb leg steaks; I remembered Sharon telling me some time in the past that she was fond of lamb. By the time that I got back to the car I had also collected, some sweet potatoes, red onion, rosemary, a jar of ready made redcurrant jelly, cream and other condiments and a small sack of little Anya potatoes and a couple of bottles of Chianti, not the classic accompaniment for lamb but a good drinking wine which I was sure would find favour with Sharon.

I put the shopping in the car and then sat on a garden wall and smoked a couple of cigarettes waiting for Maggie. I was actually quite looking forward to spending the evening with Sharon, she was always cheerful and fun to be with and I hadn't had an evening with her for months, she was just what I needed to lift me out of my pit of gloom, a drink and a shag with Sharon had always put the world to rights for me in the past.

By the time that Maggie arrived I was feeling a little less sulky although my stomach still felt as though it was filled with a massive ball of ice, an almost physical manifestation of my disappointment and jealousy, but I managed to be reasonably pleasant on the drive home.

Maggie dropped me off at the side gate to the garden centre and we exchanged hugs before I got out of the Range Rover and hauled out my shopping. Her hair was not in her usually pony tail but had been let down and bobbed, I didn't like it, it smelled of hair salon perfumed shampoo, I didn't like that either... I loved the aroma of the herbal shampoo that she and Gwen always used, and I loved those little pony tails.

"Have a nice evening," I said as sincerely as I could manage, although in truth I hoped secretly that her date would be a total disaster.

"Thank you, Jamie darling," she replied quietly although I thought she looked a little sad, which made me feel a bit guilty, "We will talk tomorrow, OK." That sounded ominous.

She drove up the back lane to the house and I dumped my bags in the boot of my car and then went for a walk around the centre to catch-up with what had been going on whilst Maggie and I had been out. I managed to touch base with everybody who was on duty and nobody had any problems to report, Emma was cashing up the tills preparing to close up for the day, the takings were good and she told me that she would be going out with Janice that evening and would probably sleep over for the night.

I noticed that the large consignment of Rhododendron and Azalea bushes which I had ordered for Craven Manor and another landscaping job we had taken on at an office block, had been delivered and had been neatly laid out in rows at the edge of the back field. I didn't really want to talk to anybody and so I collected the delivery note and a cup of coffee from the office and pretended to check the consignment until it was time for me to get the car and drive over to Sharon's place.

I got to Sharon's shop just before seven and managed to get parked almost outside just behind her beige coloured Ford Escort. Sharon's work station was right by the window and I could see that her client was still in the chair, and so I leaned on the car and smoked a cigarette until the lady left and then went in.

Uni-sex hairstylists were still something of a novelty in Salisbury in 1989, which is a rather conservative, army orientated, city at any time; generally men went to a 'barber shop' and women enjoyed 'hair and beauty salons' and most men believed that 'never the twain shall meet'. I know that most of my mates would see having a girl stylist cut your hair as a gay 'poofy' thing but I was confident enough in my own sexuality not to have even thought about it.

"Hi," I said after we had hugged briefly, holding up the bags of groceries, "What should I do with these?"