The Immigrants

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The Immigrants 1

By Bokjay Comments welcome to bokjay123@hotmail.com Chapter 1

For Stuart, his days as a civil engineer with a national construction company were finished. Over time he had gradually got fed up with all the travelling, living in temporary accommodation and being away from his family and friends back home. It might not have come so quickly had his father not become ill. His dad ran a small local contracting company and had asked him to come and work with him on many occasions. But the prospect of being in close contact with his old man every single day was not exactly his cup of tea. When he became ill it was a case of closing the company down or Stuart taking it on himself. These two events were the catalyst to bring him back home. Only the year before he had bought a small house just outside of town. It was a two-bedroom cottage and while not very big, it had a wonderful view and sat on a lane hardly wide enough for a car, so it was really quiet yet he could be in town within fifteen minutes.

Having cast his lot to take his dad's small business, he soon found that all was not well. When he did a check of the books, he realised that his dad had let the business slip as he became sick. He was at the overdraft limit with the bank and had to count the pennies and be careful as to when he could pay suppliers without having a cheque bounce. It became quite a strain mentally and left no time for relaxing or enjoyment. When he bought his house, his savings were not nearly enough to upgrade and change the layout to how he wanted, but when he had spent up while still working as an engineer, he had nothing coming from the business to continue with the refurbishment. Apart from a couple of purchases, he made do with what friends donated, chairs, tables and things. To save money he closed the rented office in town and vowed to do all the paperwork from home. The office floor tiles carpeted his cottage.

Often he lay in bed after a hard days work, his muscles aching and wondered just what he had let himself in for. Out of the frying pan and into the fire he often mused. Despite the yearning to move back home and get back with friends, his social life had become zero. There had not been a relationship for a long, long time. He often thought back to Richard and Michael, wondering where they were now. His right hand brought the only satisfaction remembering what seemed to have been unending sex. He often told himself that he was exaggerating and it was not all that good, could not have been that good. But in reality, it was the best he had ever experienced in his twenty-six years.

His business employed four men "on the books". However, the nature of the work was up and down and he regularly employed additional labour "by the day" when needed. It was a never-ending juggling act to retain money from customers paying for work done in cash and paying it into the bank. He needed cash all the time yet he had to show a continuous flow of work for the taxman so he had to be extremely careful how he handled things.

Another big headache was the type of people who did this kind of work were very unreliable. Frequently they took the pay for the day and headed straight for the pub. The next day suffering a hangover they were not likely to turn in, so arrangements made for jobs often went haywire. When the business was running on such a tight shoestring these upsets were catastrophic when say a lot of materials had been ordered for delivery the next day and a quarter of his workforce didn't show up.

Things were brought to a head when he obtained four contracts from the neighbouring city council. Usually, his father did about three jobs a year for them but on his first try he had won four tenders at one go. It didn't make him feel good at all. The first thing that leapt into mind was that he had made a mistake in his calculations. He sweated over them for many an hour trying to find something he had missed, but they appeared to be fine. Another major difficulty was that they were big consumers of materials and he would have a big problem paying for them. On the other hand, on paper at least it told him the profit would slash his overdraft by a considerable margin. He couldn't get out of the contracts, one way or another he had to go for it.

He took the Purchase Orders to his bank manager and explained he might need extra credit. The payment was sure, but by the time it came in he would have to start paying his suppliers. All the manager would promise was to look at any request to go over the limit on a case-by-case basis. Here was some work that would set the business on the right road yet with an uncooperative bank the odds were stacking against him.

He pulled the pickup into the street near the bus station on Monday morning to meet Robert, the driver who for his big truck. This day he would need two casuals and he expected to find a selection to choose from. Usually, he let Robert do it as he knew them all and even drank with them, but unusually he could still get up in the morning. Doubtless, his five kids had something to do with it and his wife, well Stuart had met her once and that was enough to know she shouldn't be crossed.

"You got anyone?" asked Stuart.

"Don't know what happened last night, none of the good `uns is in today. Those over yon I'd not be having if I were you," he nodded in the direction of a group he had seen many a time but never employed.

"Boss, you want workers, we want to work!" said a stranger interrupting them. His accent was very unusual.

"Who are you?" asked Stuart.

"We come here to work. You need workers?" he repeated.

Stuart gave them a once over. Three young men, they looked cleaner somehow than the usual but not exactly the type used to physical labour.

As if sensing the doubt the spokesman started again.

"We good workers, just try us, you'll see." Begging for work in such a way was unheard of. After a few seconds of silence, his tone changed from selling to dejection.

"Boss, we need job. Please you give us job."

Something about him pulled at Stuart's heartstrings, the guy looked like he was going to cry.

"We got all our papers," he started again, brandishing an envelope.

He took the envelope, which started to seal the deal. He had never dealt with anyone who had "papers" and pulled out a few. They were many, with letterheads in a language he did not comprehend and others with the insignia of the United Kingdom Immigration Service.

"Okay, we'll give you a whirl. £40 per day, paid when you finish."

"We work all time!" said the spokesman.

It flashed through Stuart's mind that if he was going to make a success of the contracts he had in hand, he needed reliable labour that would be there day in and day out. Casual labour was not the answer when he had a decent workload.

"We'll see how you perform today." replied Stuart.

"What?" said the young man not understanding.

"You work today and I will see if I want you for every day, okay?"

They nodded in agreement and broke out in smiles.

He looked at Robert whose eyes rolled to the sky.

The spokesman put out his hand to shake the deal.

"Me Jan," he said, "This Miro and this Wit" as they stepped forward to formally shake his hand. Quite different from the usual hiring procedure with the local casuals.

"Robert, you take the others and start that new garage job, I will take these and I can keep an eye on them, see how they perform."

Robert climbed up in his cab and drove off to begin the day's work.

"You guys, my name is Stuart, you will work with me today."

"Yes boss," they chorused.

As he was driving to the builder's merchants he began to quiz them.

"Where you from then?"

"We all brothers," said Jan.

They didn't look like brothers. One was fairly blonde with square features, the other two black haired and looked quite different.

"You sure you are brothers?"

Jan laughed. "Sure, not brothers, but we live in same place"

"Where is same place?"

"Poland! I am from Poland" said Jan triumphantly.

"And your two friends from Poland?"

"Yes, we all from Poland."

Wit spoke up. "Me not Polish!" He said firmly.

Stuart glanced at Jan, thinking he was spinning a yarn.

"No, Wit not Polish, he from Lithuania, but he live Poland most his life. He live in my street," he said with pride.

"I see." said Stuart trying to cast a map of Europe into his mind but really he had no idea.

"How old are you?"

"Me 21, Miro 22" Then there was a little conversation before he finished. "Wit 21, same me."

"Why did you come here to this town?" It seemed a very unlikely place for some reason, certainly not a tourist destination.

"My friend said we might find work here. We tried his town but nothing. So we come here today," he smiled broadly. "And look, my friend was right, we have job!"

They elbowed each other and laughed.

Stuart didn't mind their age, he employed people younger, but they didn't look like they were used to hard work. They were too clean cut somehow whereas all his labourers were very rough around the edges.

"How long have you been in England?"

"Two weeks." said Jan.

"Have you worked anywhere yet?

"No job, you first to give us job." smiled Jan.

Stuart thought January was not a good time to be looking for work in construction; they had picked a bad time to be moving countries.

"You don't mind working outside? It gets cold this time of the year, plenty rain, snow, ice, you know?"

Jan gave a withering look. "You should see Poland, we have plenty snow," he boasted. "This not cold for us, this good!"

So be it, thought Stuart.

They were lowering the public footpath so that a house built before the days of the motorcar could have a driveway connected to the road. Local regulations said they had to lower the pavement, install a dropped kerb and ramp down at each side. Only contractors on the local authority list could do this work and Stuart's business was one of them.

The lads worked hard, trying to impress. He could see that easily. But what they didn't realise and Stuart impressed by, was their logical thought. Once they knew what he was going to do, they were on to it so that although never having done this particular kind of work before, understood what to do first and what came afterwards. He had been prepared to have to do everything himself and have them watch almost, yet they quickly grasped the idea and he found himself not being the teacher he imagined.

Come 10 o'clock they had a break. Usually, if the householder was home they would bring out tea and sometimes if they were lucky, biscuits as well. Today the house was empty, likely they were at work. Stuart had a sandwich he had hastily prepared himself in the morning, but the lads had nothing and sat together talking. Stuart felt a bit uneasy having something while they had none, but he was hungry and they were sure to learn what the game was.

As the morning wore on, they began to get more at ease. Lifting heavy concrete kerbs and shovelling hardcore began to level everyone. He could see why Jan did all the talking; his English was much better than the other two. But gradually Miro and Wit started to talk, asking questions and wanting to know about everything under the sun.

Stuart began to like them. They were working hard and equally important, showed common sense. Jan was the talker, always smiling if not laughing. He kept joking with the other two but always while he was working, never leaning on his shovel. Miro was very good looking Stuart realised. He had not really studied them at all when they met, but as the morning progressed he began to take note. His face was really handsome, square and a mop of dark blonde hair that could do with cutting. Wit was good looking, tall and slim as the other two. His dark eyes and long eyelashes really made Stuart want to stare but he fought the urge. Jan was such a happy soul. Whatever he said finished with a smile, the corners of his mouth making dimples as he grinned. Stuart could imagine the girls chasing him till the cows came home.

At 1 o'clock Stuart called lunch. He had another sandwich to fall back on. Quickly he realised that they had nothing with them.

"You want to find a shop to buy some lunch?" he asked.

They spoke quietly to each other but did not reply.

"Eat, we eat now. You want to buy some food?"

They looked embarrassed for a few moments till Miro and Wit pushed Jan forward.

"Boss, we don't have money for buy food," he didn't meet his eyes but stared down at the floor.

Stuart knew the situation many times, his labourers having spent yesterday's wage in the pub they only came back to work because their pockets were empty.

"You like fish and chips?" he asked.

They looked at each other not understanding the question.

"Never mind, everyone likes fish and chips." he said. "Just stay here, I'll be back in ten minutes, okay?"

They shrugged, knowing something was going to happen but not exactly what.

Stuart drove a mile or so to the nearest fish and chip shop and ordered. He handed out the parcels wrapped in old newspapers. They could smell food but the packaging had them wondering. It made him laugh as he watched them warily peel back the papers.

Once tasted they set about devouring, all smiles and laughter. It made Stuart wonder when they had last had a good meal.

By the middle of the afternoon, Stuart was glad he had given them a chance. He really liked them and knew they were a big difference from the usual casuals. If they stayed, it could be the beginning of a change for the better.

At the end of the day, they drove back into town so that he could pay the men and have a talk with Robert to see how he had got on.

"Boss?" asked Jan. "We work for you all the time?"

Stuart had already made up his mind. Even allowing for the extra exertion of the first day in front of the boss, they were equal to his best workers and better than nearly all the usual casuals.

"You like this kind of work?"

"Oh yes, much better than inside a factory. Working outside better, good for health!" replied Jan, with Wit and Miro nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but I have to take your papers to the tax man. I've never employed anyone like you before, so I have to check everything."

They nodded again although he doubted if they really knew what he had meant.

He paid them out and waited in his pickup for Robert to arrive. They stood talking nearby but didn't go away. Then Robert drove up and he spent some time discussing his job. As he was finishing Jan came up to them.

"Boss, we don't have anywhere to stay. Can you help us?"

He looked at Robert. "Where is there in town they could stay?"

Robert thought a few moments and shook his head.

"Only Mrs Robinson at the bottom of town, she has rooms." He paused a while. "But she lets only by the week." He stopped again. "And she wants in advance, nothing else".

"That's it, only Robinsons?" said Stuart a bit amazed.

"There was another boarding house, but they pulled it down last summer, you know where that new supermarket is going up."

Stuart was in a fix, he didn't have the money to pay rent for three in advance and besides, he had been bitten before. Everyone was all promises when they didn't have money. He had paid board for someone when he first took over the business and they had gone off to work for someone else the next day. He wouldn't do that again, even if he could afford.

Yet he really didn't want to loose these three, they were just what he needed.

"Okay Robert, thanks anyway. Don't get too drunk tonight!" he laughed.

"No fear, the missus will have me guts for garters," he responded walking away.

He turned to the expectant looking Jan. What to do, he thought. Darkness was descending already and it was rapidly getting cold. He shivered.

Then he spoke without thinking, just blurted it out.

"You could stay with me if you wanted. A bit cramped, you will have to share."

Having said it, he wondered why he had offered and felt a bit embarrassed.

But Jan's face lit up and he turned around and called the others over.

"Yes Boss, thanks."

On the way home, he stopped at a supermarket.

"Look you guys, I live by myself and probably won't have anything you like. I don't know what kind of food you eat, but you will have to buy your own now so that you can have what you are used to, and make your lunch for tomorrow."

"Yes, yes," they chorused and strode off to the store while he waited in the pickup.

His mind was churning over. They looked like decent guys and really if they weren't he had nothing of value to steal and no money on him now anyway. He remembered lunch time, when they washed their hands before eating, surprising him in such a small way because it was unusual for his labour to be bothered like that. They had manners too, picked up the newspapers and put them in the bin instead of letting them blow around. Yes, he thought, they would be all right. He crossed his fingers hoping his instincts were right.

When they piled into the pickup they were laughing and joking, carrying bags of food, far too much so it seemed to Stuart.

"Boss, we got you a present," said Jan. "You a good Boss!"

He pulled out a bottle of Vodka. "For you Boss."

"Thanks, but I think you were buying this for yourselves," he laughed.

"Yes," laughed Jan "But you are going to help us drink. We have to celebrate getting our first job in England!"

At the house, he showed them where things were; a little embarrassed that it was so sparsely furnished and unfinished.

"Boss, we cook you dinner," announced Miro with some flourish.

Stuart tried to decline but they insisted. While he got busy with paperwork on the table he kept an eye on them and noted his mother would have been proud of how clean and hygienic they were. It made him relax and let him finish up what he had to do.

Rather than be anything exotic, it was good old potatoes with pork and vegetables, not a lot different from what he might eat if he had still been living at home.

It was a bit like being looked after, for they did the cleaning afterwards and left the kitchen markedly better than when they arrived. Later as the TV was switched on, so the Vodka came out and the glass went around and around, toasting each other, England, the mild weather (for them), finding a good Boss and on and on. Till eventually there was an empty bottle and four contented and relaxed young men.

Far from being employees, they were more like good friends.

Wit yawned and it made Stuart think they would be tired after working so hard. A shiver ran over him as he thought about the next step, where they would sleep.

Bedding was geared only for his own needs with a single bed in the second bedroom. His bed was his one grand purchase, a king size double. He was afraid of suggesting how they might sleep.

He called Jan into the kitchen.

"I know I invited you here, but as you can see I only have two bedrooms. Two can sleep in with me, it's a king size so no problem there, and one in the spare bedroom. If you are not happy with that then one or two of you can sleep on the floor."

He held his breath, worrying that he and then the others would be upset in some way.

Jan laughed out loud. "Don't worry boss, we are used to sharing."

"So you can tell them they can take a shower and we can go to bed."

They went back into the lounge. "Just one thing," said Stuart as an afterthought.

"Does anyone snore?" he made the corresponding sounds. Two hands pointed at Miro, who blushed.

"Well Miro, you have got yourself the single bed and your very own bedroom."

When it sank in, they all laughed.

As they climbed the stairs, Stuart locked up and switched off the TV.

When he went up Wit had already finished, Jan insisting that he went next. They were all stripping off, absolutely without inhibitions. Stuarts nervousness ensured he didn't spring a hard-on while they jostled cleaning teeth and drying off.

He went into the bedroom finding Wit already in bed. He did a double take when he saw he had his shirt on. Curious he pulled back the cover a little to find he had dressed in all his clothes once more.

"Wit, you can't go to bed wearing all your outside clothes, take them off!"

"Okay," he said simply and leapt out, quickly shedding every last stitch. He glanced at Stuart before leaping back in again and gave a quick smile.

He was so quick, Stuart hadn't meant he get naked, just not to wear jeans and a shirt in the bed. That he had not expected, thinking modesty would have him leave his underwear on. Still, Stuart didn't wear anything in bed usually either, so he did what he always did and got in the other side wearing nothing.

When Jan came in, Wit rattled off something in Polish. Whatever it was made him laugh.

"We don't wear clothes in the bed," he explained, "But Wit thought you had to give him permission to not wear anything."

Stuart couldn't help but smile at the reasoning.

Jan pulled off his tee shirt and underwear and stood naked.

"Boss, you move to middle, we keep you warm," he said making Stuart move.

The middle of the bed was cold and he gave an involuntary shiver.

"Boss cold? We warm you!"

He pushed Stuart away from him and onto his side, and melded his body against his and put an arm around. He reached over and gave Wit a cuff on the shoulder.

"Boss cold, help warm him."

Wit turned towards him but didn't cuddle up. Instead, he hooked his feet under his and rubbed his side.

Stuart could hardly believe it. He was naked with two handsome men, one of which was plastered to his back with the warmth of his groin glowing in his rear end. Try as he might, he could not stop getting a hard on.

He realised quickly none of it was sexual in any way, just friendly and innocent. Stuart knew he didn't want to spoil it by presuming otherwise. He remained tense nevertheless until he could hear Jan's breathing slow as he started to doze off. Wit rolled onto his back, stretching out his hand to his thigh as if to comfort him. In minutes he was asleep. With that Stuart's tension evaporated and the next thing he knew was waking up the next morning.

As usual from habit, he always woke a few minutes before the alarm radio came on. On both sides, Jan and Wit still slept on. The bed was plenty big enough for three; he had enough room without touching either of them. He felt like he wanted to stay in bed like this for the rest of the day.

The music started playing although being January it was still dark outside. Half way into the song Jan began to stir. He sighed deeply and as he groaned at the thought of his sleep ending, he rolled against Stuart. Like last night he pushed him on his side and spooned up behind, hooking his arm over his chest. The only difference was that he had a stiff dick that pressed into his bum, to which he seemed oblivious. Stuart could feel his breath as his face buried into his hair. Every minute or so, he would clench his buttocks which had the effect of pushing out his dick and giving Stuart a bit of a stab.

Stuart didn't mind in the least, he had fifteen minutes of bliss before he had to get up. He realised Jan liked to cuddle and he was going to enjoy every moment. When the news came on it was the signal to get up. He gently pushed Jan onto his back, following with him so that they lay touching each other. He gave him a gently shake.

"Really, morning already?" he said slowly. He turned again into Stuart and hooked one leg over his.

"Wit, time to get up," he said quietly.

"No, no good talking to him," said Jan coming awake.

He slid his body over Stuart and gave Wit a really hard poke and told him to get up really loud.

Startled he turned onto his back, his hand going out to rest on Stuart's thigh as if to steady himself. A few moments later he rose to sit up, then unsteadily climbed out of bed and staggered to the bathroom.

Stuart was quite shocked. He had seen his dick before he dived back into bed after undressing. But now he had a hard on and it was absolutely massive, standing out at right angles. His eyes followed him around the bed till he left the room.

"Shit," he thought, what an enormous dick.

Jan was still hooked over him making no effort to move, so he roused him again making sure by throwing back the covers. He made no attempt to cover up his hard on, so Stuart gazed at what must have been seven or eight inches. Pulling himself together, he jumped up and quickly went downstairs to put the kettle on. He would shower later after a cup of coffee, better to keep away from them with morning hard-ons.

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