“Oh, Ben.” Tears spilled over and trickled down her cheeks as she gazed down at his motionless form, the love that she’d kept hidden from him for so long now written plainly in her eyes.

What if he died, and she never got the chance to tell him how much she loved him?”  She couldn’t bear the thought.

“You can’t die, Ben.” she choked. “Not like this.”

She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there when Mr. Jackson returned with some colleagues.

“We need to carry out a few tests.” he informed her.  “They may take a little while.  Why don’t you go home and rest?”

Leanne shook her head.  She couldn’t leave him here, alone.

“I’ll wait outside until you’re finished, if that’s alright?”

“As you wish.”

Leanne looked down at Ben’s pale face once more, before leaving the room.  She wandered aimlessly down the corridor until she came to a waiting area.  Some easy chairs were arranged around a wooden coffee table, which was strewn with old magazines.  In the corner stood a coffee machine, and a vending machine that sold snacks.

She delved into her  bag for some money, and got herself a cup of watery coffee, going over to sit on a chair by the window.  It was raining heavily now, the droplets running down the windows.  Hardly the weather one would expect for August.  But then this was England, and the English weather was nothing if not unpredictable.  Below, nurses dashed from building to building, trying not to get wet.

Leanne turned away, thinking about Ben.  He would be alright.  He had to be.  She couldn’t allow herself to think of the alternative.

She took a sip of the coffee.  It tasted like dishwater, but she drank it anyway, oblivious to it’s taste.

Life was so unfair, she brooded.  Ben had suffered so much heartache these last couple of years, and now this.  The image of Ben’s pale, ravaged face passed before her eyes.  She could hardly relate it to the handsome, cheeky, happy-go-lucky man she’d met some four years before.  A smile touched her lips as she remembered.

It had all been Rowena’s doing.  When Lennards, the engineering company where Leanne worked as a Secretary, was hit by recession, and rumours of bankruptcy began to circulate, her best friend, Rowena, had suggested some part time work, to boost her income.

Rowena Griffiths, and her colleague, Julia Taylor, ran a sort of high class cleaning agency, providing home helps, cleaners and baby sitters to the rich, and sometimes famous, and, when Leanne was put on a three day working week to save the company money, Rowena offered to find Leanne some work with one of her clients.

Leanne hadn’t been very keen on the idea.  She had enough trouble keeping on top of her own housework without doing anyone else’s, but Rowena was nothing if not persistent and, as Leanne had come home from work, one evening, the telephone was ringing.  She picked it up and had barely said hello before Rowena was babbling excitedly down the line at her.

“I’ve got just the job for you Lea.  Just what you need.”

“Oh?” Leanne replied, without much enthusiasm, as she sifted through several brown envelopes that had arrived in the mail.

“Yes.  How does housekeeper to Ben Gallagher grab you?”

“Who?”

Rowena sighed, exasperatedly.  “Ben Gallagher, the American actor. Remember, I told you about that film I saw him in a couple of months ago?”

“Oh, him.” Leanne muttered, while she desperately tried to put a face to the vaguely familiar name.

“Yes. He’s relatively well known in the States, and he’s trying to get established here and in Europe too.  Apparently, he’s fallen in love with England, the foolish man, and he’d like to be able to work here more, and maybe even live here permanently one day. So he’s bought a house on the outskirts of London, to use as a base, and he wants someone to ‘do’ for him when he’s here, and to keep an eye on the place when he’s not. I just had to give you first option.”

“I don’t know…” Leanne began, reluctantly, but Rowena cut her off.

“It’s just what you need.  Hours to suit, and the pay is just too good to be true.  If you took this job, you’d be able to stash a fair amount away, and then, if you do lose your job at Lennards, you’ll have something to fall back on.  And” she added “just think how envious your friends will be when they find out who you’re working for.”

Both girls laughed.

“I just don’t think it’s really my thing.” Leanne told her, “I hate housework at the best of times.”

“Oh, it always seems easier when you’re doing it for someone else.  Especially someone as gorgeous as him.” Rowena enthused.  “If I had the time, I’d volunteer myself for the job.” She sighed.  “What I could do for him!”

“Rowena, you are awful!” laughed Leanne.

“Think about it.” said Rowena.  “It’s ideal for you.”

“Alright.  I’ll think about it.” Leanne relented.  Anything to shut her up.

“I can hold off until tomorrow afternoon.  I’ll call you. O.K?”

“O.K.” Leanne smiled as she hung up.

She duly kept her promise to Rowena and gave it some thought as she prepared her evening meal.  The money would be useful, there was no denying that.  Things were getting steadily worse at work.  Every time her boss called her into his office, she wondered if he was going to break the news that she was to lose her job, or the factory was to close.  But cleaning?  It was as much as she could do to look after her own small flat.

On the other hand, working for someone in the acting profession could prove useful.  Perhaps an opportunity for another job might present itself, and it wasn’t like she had to give up her day job.  As she was only working three days at the office, she could fit it in quite easily alongside it.

She ate her lasagna, wishing she could place this Ben Gallagher.  He must be something out of the ordinary for Rowena to rave about him the way she had.  She met a lot of wealthy and, sometimes famous, people in her job and claimed that most of them weren’t worth a second glance.

A thought suddenly struck her.  She glanced at her watch.  It was 6.30pm.  She put on her coat and drove round to the  local video hire ship, where she scoured the shelves in search of the film Rowena had mentioned.  Since she wasn’t going out anywhere tonight, she may as well have a look at it.  She was surprised when she found a copy almost immediately. The film, it said on the cover, had been made two years ago, although it hadn’t been released in Britain until the following year.

Leanne paid for the hire of the film and took it home, loading it into the VCR and settling down to watch it with a glass of wine and some chocolates.

The film was a powerful drama, set during the American Civil War, concerning the tragic love affair between George, Ben’s character, and Amy, a couple on opposite sides of the political fence, whose respective loyalties put their relationship under tremendous pressure until, finally, Amy sends George away, telling him that she cannot accept his views and can’t see him any more.  George, a proud Southerner, hides his distress at Amy ending the relationship and goes off to war, eventually being killed in battle, but, a letter to Amy, telling her how much he still loves her and wants to renew their relationship when the war is over, is found in his uniform jacket and duly finds its way to her.  Amy realises her mistake in sending her lover away, and, overcome with remorse and sorrow, takes her own life.

Leanne found the film riveting, and had gone through half a dozen tissues by the time it was over.  She had to admit that Rowena was right.  Ben Gallagher was one of the most attractive men she’d seen in a long time.  She couldn’t tell his height,  but judged him to be around six feet, with a lean, but athletic, build, with thick, dark hair, a little on the long side for this role, and a swarthy complexion that suggested he spent a good deal of time outdoors.  His voice was deep and husky, but it was his eyes that Leanne found fascinating.  They were like deep, dark pools, with a permanent glint of amusement flickering deep within them, as though inwardly laughing at some private joke. 

Leanne was drawn into them, feeling as thought she was Amy and the words he spoke were only for her.  His performance was both sensitive and dramatic and, by the end of the film, Leanne had definitely been converted, so much so that she phoned Rowena, first thing the next morning, to tell her that she would take the job if Ben wanted her.

“Great! What changed your mind?” Rowena asked.

“Well…” Leanne hedged, not wanting to tell her that she had been swayed by watching Ben’s performance in the film.  “as you say, the money will be handy.  I’d be a fool to pass it up, wouldn’t I? Who knows, I might be out of a job next week.”

“I’ll get in touch with him and I’ll let you know when he can interview you.” said Rowena.  “I’ll call you back.”

“Fine.” Leanne hung up the phone, biting her lip.  Had she done the right thing?  Actors were strange people.  He might be dreadful to work for.  Or, he might think that he was entitled to more than just cleaning services to warrant the substantial salary he was offering.   She sighed.  Oh well, it was too late now.  She would just have to go along and see.

Leanne gazed unseeingly through the rain streaked hospital window, smiling to herself as she recalled that interview.

Rowena had arranged for Ben to see her that Friday at eleven sharp.

At ten fifty eight, Leanne had stood nervously outside the door of Ben’s Victorian house, trying to decide whether to knock or run away.  Not given to nerves, she couldn’t understand why she was so apprehensive about meeting him. She put it down to his being famous and, taking a deep breath, knocked on the door.

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