Memory of Love
​
- 2 -
​
Leanne had only been home half an hour when the phone range. It was Rowena.
“Well? How did the interview go?”
“O.K.” said Leanne. “I got the job.”
“Wow! Fantastic!” Rowena squealed down the phone. “What did you think of him? Isn’t he just divine?” Rowena drawled the last word.
Leanne smiled. “He’s better…” She’d been about to say better in the flesh than on film, but stopped herself. If Rowena knew she’d only gone for the job on the strength of watching him in a movie she would tease her mercilessly. “…than I imagined.” he finished.
“God, Leanne, have you no soul? The guy is gorgeous!”
“Alright, I’ll admit, he is dishy.”
“Thank God. There’s hope for you yet.” Rowena replied. “When do you start?”
“Monday at ten. He gave me a spare key.”
“Already?”
“Well, you gave him such a glowing reference, he felt he could trust me.” Leanne replied, tartly.
“Bitch!” retorted Rowena. “Seriously though, Leanne, good looks aside, he seems a really nice guy, and he’s a hell of a good actor. I’m surprised he’s not bigger here than he is. You’ll be O.K. working for him.”
Leanne smiled. “How about we meet for lunch next Tuesday and I’ll tell you how it went.”
“Great. Twelve thirty at Gino’s. O.K?”
“O.K. I’ll see you then. Bye.”
“Bye Lea.”
The laughter of a group of passing nurses brought Leanne back from her reverie. She glanced at her watch. It had been forty five minutes since Mr. Jackson had asked her to leave. She decided to go and see if they’d finished their tests.
She got up and threw the now empty coffee cup into the waste bin before going back down the corridor towards Ben’s room.
“Have they finished in there?” she asked one of the nurses.
“Yes, you can go back in now.” the nurse smiled.
“Thank you.” Leanne went back inside the small, private room that Ben had been allocated and sat down once more by the side of the bed. She sat, watching him, holding his hand, the room silent save for the constant bleep of the heart monitor and the hiss of the respirator.
Her mind slipped back in time, once more, to the first day she’d gone to work for him.
​
She had dressed in jeans, and subconsciously chosen a turquoise sweatshirt that emphasised her pale green eyes, before driving to Ben’s house and knocking apprehensively on the door. Ben had opened it several moments later, a quizzical expression on his face.
“Hi there. Forgot your key?”
“Er… no.” Leanne blushed. “I just didn’t …” she shrugged. “First day and all that. I thought I’d knock.”
Ben stepped aside for her to enter. “You British, you’re so reserved.” he teased. Turning to a mirror on the wall near the door, he took out a comb and proceeded to comb his thick, dark hair into place. He was dressed in a light grey business suit, this morning, with a crisp, white shirt and red tie.
“No, just well mannered.” Leanne corrected, in a bristly tone of voice. “You could have been stark… I mean… in your underwear, or something… It seemed polite to knock first.”
Ben raised an amused eyebrow at her, through the mirror, obviously contemplating the implications of her walking in on him in the nude.
“So, what do you want me to do first?” Leanne hurriedly changed the subject before he could embarrass her further.
“It’s pretty much up to you.” He told her, pocketing the comb and adjusting his tie. “You can clean where, and when, you like. Whatever you think needs doing. You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen cupboards. All I want is for the place to be clean and tidy, a change of clothes in the closet and something to eat in the pantry. That reminds me, I’ve left a list of the kind of stuff I like to eat, if you can keep it stocked up for me? I’ve left some cash in an envelope in the top drawer next to the sink. If you need any more, let me know and I’ll leave you some. Leave me a note if I’m not here. Just make sure you bring receipts.” He grimaced. “For my accountant that is, not because I don’t trust you, or anything.”
Leanne nodded. “Fine. I’ll leave any receipts and cleaning bills, and so forth, in the same place for you.”
Ben nodded. “Great. Oh, by the way, will your salary be OK monthly?” I mean, you’re not short are you? I know you said you were on short time.”
“No. Monthly will be fine.” Leanne smiled at the look of genuine concern on his face.
“Right.” He smiled. “Well, I have to go.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting this morning and I’m already running late.”
“Am I to stay, until you get back, or what?” Leanne asked, not sure what she was supposed to do.
“No. Just do whatever you think needs doing and leave when you’re done. Same thing on Friday. If I’m not here, and I have any requests, I’ll leave you a note. O.K?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so.” Leanne had expected him to want to watch over her for a while to see if she came up to his expectations.
“Right. Catch you later then. Bye.” Ben gave her a brief, devastating grin before turning to let himself out, leaving Leanne feeling as though she’d been hit by a whirlwind. She had met one or two Americans before and they were all the same, never a minute to spare, always dashing around as though the end of the world was coming.
Leanne looked down, now, at Ben, finding it hard to equate her memory of the Ben of that morning, tanned and virile looking, with the pale, battered body in front of her. She sighed. That day had heralded some of the happiest times she had known, and also some of the saddest.
After breaking off her two year engagement to Tony ten months earlier, after finding out he had been two-timing her with a girl from his office, Leanne had steered well away from any romantic involvement, not wanting to get hurt like that again, and she had found Ben’s friendly, but aloof attitude very refreshing, in the beginning at least.
Her mind wandered back again to that first day. After Ben had left for his meeting she’d had a quick look round to ascertain what needed doing. For a bachelor Ben was remarkably tidy, but Leanne decided to give the place a thorough clean through to start off with. In the kitchen she found a walk-in cupboard containing a vacuum cleaner, ironing board, a bucket and a mop. Polish and dusters she found in a cupboard under the sink.
She soon got into the task, enjoying it, as Rowena had told her she would, far more than doing her own. She left no stone unturned, cleaning and tidying all the wardrobes and cupboards. She felt guilty at first, going through Ben’s things, but she told herself he obviously didn’t mind or he wouldn’t have hired her, and anything private she assumed he would have under lock and key anyway, and so forced the feeling from her mind.
The house was tastefully decorated, obviously done by a professional firm. Ben’s bedroom was decorated in shades of brown and beige. A beige shag-pile carpet covered the floor, the duvet on the bed patterned in beige and brown. A series of wardrobes filled one wall with beige coloured panelled doors. There were fitted shelves above the bed, on which were stacked several books and a clock-radio. A bamboo-effect roller blind hung at the window and stone coloured drapes from the frame. On the cream coloured walls were several prints of flashy cars.
The second and third smaller bedrooms were decorated in a similar fashion, in similar neutral shades.
Leanne was green with envy over the bathroom, wishing she could swap it for the pokey little one in her flat. There was a deep sea green coloured carpet on the floor, with a huge, white corner bath. A small cupboard stood in one corner, which Leanne found to be full of towels. A shower cubicle, with smoked glass panel doors stood in another corner. The wall, at the side of the bath, was covered in mirrored tiles, giving it an impression of immense size. Leanne could visualise herself luxuriating in here.
A pinewood medicine cabinet hung on one wall. Leanne peeked inside, surprised to find it almost empty. She had an image in her mind of actors being hooked on all sorts of pills, and potions, to keep their looks and health, but she found only basic toiletries, a couple of bottles of expensive aftershave and some aspirin.
She finished cleaning upstairs and went back down to start on the ground floor rooms.
The room at the front of the house was obviously an office-come-study, decorated in sage green. It had a desk, telephone, several cupboards and a filing cabinet. A leather Chesterfield style sofa stood in front of the fireplace which, like all of the others in the house, had been bricked up and replaced with modern gas fires and central heating. Across the hall was another lounge, more formal than the lounge/kitchen area which Ben obviously used as an every day room, decorated in russetty reds. In one corner of the room was a small bar, fully stocked. Another Chesterfield style sofa, in brown leather, stood on a deep red carpet. At the other end of the room, behind the sofa, stood a dark, wood dining table and six high backed chairs. Blood red drapes hung at the bay window. The only other item of furniture was a low, dark wood coffee table which stood in front of the sofa. Though sparsely furnished, the room was cosy, and Leanne guessed that Ben kept this room for entertaining guests.
In the kitchen, all the fittings were natural pinewood. A breakfast bar divided the kitchen area from the lounge, at which stood four high stools. The lounge area was light and airy, with a large patio window that led into the large, tree filled garden.
The carpet was a smoky blue-grey colour and of luxurious quality. Beside the two, cream, leather sofas and the coffee table, a large cabinet containing a t.v, video recorder and dvd equipment stood in one corner of the room. By its side was a large potted palm. The length of one wall was filled with shelves and cupboards containing books, hi-fi equipment, records, cd's and video tapes. A series of slatted blinds, the same colour as the carpet, hung at the windows.
Leanne found the house enchanting, and couldn’t help imagining herself living in a place like this. She was tidying the kitchen cupboards when she was surprised to hear a key in the door. She turned to see Ben entering the kitchen.
“Oh, hi.” he grinned, “I thought you’d have gone by now.”
Leanne glanced at her watch, surprised to find it was after three.
“I decided to Spring Clean. I hope that’s alright?”
“It’s alright by me if it’s alright by you.” said Ben, tossing a newspaper onto the sofa and removing his jacket, which he draped over the back of the other sofa. “It looks great.” he said, glancing around him while he unfastened his tie, dropping it in a heap on the breakfast bar. He opened the fridge and took out a can of beer.
“How was your meeting?” Leanne enquired politely.
“Not bad. Not bad at all. Hopefully some work will come of it.”
“I like the house.” Leanne told him.
Ben smiled, crossing the room and flopping down onto the sofa, kicking off his shoes and draping his feet over the sofa back. He picked up the remote control unit to the t.v. and switched it on.
“I er… think I’ll go to the shops and get some groceries.” said Leanne, feeling strangely lost for words in his presence. “I won’t be in until Friday and you’ll be a bit low by then.”
“Fine.” said Ben, flipping through the t.v. channels. “Do you think you’ll like the job?” he asked suddenly, looking at her with an almost serious expression.
“I think so, when I get used to it. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“You’ve made a pretty good start by the looks of things.” He gave her that cheeky grin that was beginning to make her stomach do cartwheels.
“Thank you.” She took some money out of the envelope in the drawer and picked up her jacket.
“I’ll be about an hour.” she told him.
“O.K.” muttered Ben, his attention on the t.v.
When Leanne returned, Ben was sprawled face down on the sofa, reading the newspaper, which he had propped up against the arm.
“Hello.” she said, walking past him with two plastic carriers.
“Hi.” Ben replied, giving her a quick smile before returning his attention to the newspaper.
Leanne put the groceries away and then turned to face him.
“Well, I’ll be off then.”
Ben closed the newspaper and sat up.
“Well, thanks, Leanne, you’ve done a great job.” He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling good humouredly.
“I’ll come the same time on Friday. Is that O.K”
“Sure. I don’t know if I’ll be in or not.”
Leanne nodded. “I’ll be seeing you, then.”
“Sure. Bye Leanne.”
Leanne signed, looking down now at Ben’s pale face. That was almost exactly four years and six months ago to the day. On one hand it seemed like yesterday, the memory was still so fresh in her mind. But on the other, it seemed like a lifetime. She couldn’t imagine how she’d ever existed before she’d met him, yet sometimes she wished she never had. They were so close, and yet, at the same time, so distant, Leanne wondered, sometimes, how she stood it. Every time she was near him, she longed to touch him, kiss him, feel his arms around her.
It had been two years before she’d finally realized that she was in love with him, although, when she looked back, she knew she’d loved him all along, right from when she’d seem him in that movie, but, after the way Tony had hurt her, she had refused to let herself acknowledge the fact.
Ben, however, was unaware of her feelings and Leanne had been prevented from revealing them by the memory of a conversation that had taken place the very next time she’d seen him.
She had arrived the following Friday to find Ben out. She made the unmade bed, wondering what Ben did about it when no-one was there. Did he get back into it as it was, she mused, with a smile? She dusted and vacuumed and washed up the dishes Ben had left on the sink and then sorted out the laundry, hoping that he might return before she was done. But, after lunch, there was still no sign of him, and so, after stretching out her chores as long as she could, she reluctantly left. She had hoped to try and get to know him a little better before he went back to the States and found herself oddly disappointed to have missed seeing him.
The following Monday however, she had walked into Ben’s bedroom, to find him still asleep in bed.
She stopped in her tracks, holding her breath, for fear of waking him, having had no idea, when she arrived, that he was even in the house. She stood, transfixed, at the sight of him there, lying on his side, facing her. Asleep, he looked younger than his 27 years. The roller blind was half up and the morning sun shone across his head and shoulders, showing up auburn glints in his rumpled dark hair. His dark lashes almost touched his cheeks and the beginnings of a beard showed on his face. His bare shoulders, above the quilt, were deeply tanned.
Leanne could have stood looking at him forever, but she feared he might wake and find her there so she crept carefully out again, closing the door quietly behind her. Retreating downstairs, she tidied up, dusted, and washed the dishes, but didn’t want to vacuum for fear of the noise disturbing him, so she made herself a cup of coffee and then went over to the shelves in the lounge and looked through Ben’s books for something to read. She picked up a biography of one of Hollywood’s most famous actors, its pages well thumbed, obviously read many times.
She settled down at the breakfast bar and began to read it. After a few pages, Leanne could see why the book had been so well read. The man’s character virtually leapt out of the pages. He had been famous in the 1940’s, and, because of his outrageous behaviour – drinking too much, flaunting his numerous love affairs, refusing to be told how to lead his life – had been considered a rebel by the film moguls, and there had been many arguments with him over the years. But the audiences had loved him and the film companies had found themselves in the position of not being able to get rid of him.
“Morning.”
Leanne jumped at the sound of Ben’s voice, huskier than normal from sleep.
She turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, clad in a navy blue towelling robe that finished just above the knee, revealing muscular tanned calves.
His pose was casual, but there was an oddly hostile glint in his eyes as he looked at her.
“Oh! Hello.” Leanne blushed, from a mixture of being caught ‘skiving’ and seeing him clad in so few clothes. “I hope you don’t mind me reading this?” she asked, nervously. “I wanted to vacuum, but you were asleep.”
Ben padded barefoot across to the refrigerator.
“I don’t mind.” he said, opening the door and taking out a carton of milk and pouring some into a glass. “It just seems a bit of a waste of your time.” Leanne imagined an unspoken ‘and my money’ in his tone. He glanced around him. “You could have left the vacuuming until next time.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was skimping.” said Leanne, watching him as he downed the glass of milk in two or three gulps. “I’m being paid to clean. I want to do it properly.”
Ben shrugged. “Have it your own way.” he said, putting the empty glass down on the breakfast bar. “If you want to spend half the day waiting around for me to get my ass out of bed, that’s your choice.”
A slight frown puckered Leanne’s brow at his offhand tone. “Heavy night?” she asked, as he yawned, raking his hands up through his hair.
“Mmm? Oh, yeah, a bit. I ran into this guy I know, from back home. He has a part in some long running theatre play here. He’s been here almost a year now. He took me out on the town. Didn’t get in until around four a.m. Had a few too many beers too. My head’s pounding.”
“Want some aspirin?” smiled Leanne.
“Please.” Ben sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and Leanne got up and went to fetch some aspirin. She poured some more milk into the glass and handed it to him along with the two aspirins.
“Here.”
“Thanks.” Ben took the tablets and tossed them into his mouth, downing them with the milk.
“Is it O.K. if I vacuum now?” Leanne asked.
Ben made a big show of fragility, putting a hand over his eyes and shaking his head forlornly, as though the mere thought of the vacuum cleaner would be the end.
“Must you?” he pleaded.
Leanne grinned. “’fraid so.” she nodded, hands on hips.
Ben got hurriedly to his feet. “I’m going for a shower.”
As he reached the door, he turned back. “I’ll be down when you’re done.”
Leanne laughed, pleased that his earlier hostility seemed to have dissipated. “O.K. Want me to make you breakfast?” she called, over her shoulder, as she picked up the glass off the breakfast bar.
A sudden hard look came into Ben’s eyes. “No.” he snapped. “I’m quite capable of fixing my own breakfast, thanks. I hired you as a housekeeper, not as a nursemaid.” He left the room, slamming the door shut after him, leaving Leanne standing open mouthed, wondering what she’d said.
Tears of anger and resentment pricked her eyes, at his harsh words. Who did he think he was? He might have employed her as a cleaner, but it didn’t give him the right to speak to her like a servant.
She fairly flung the glass, and her coffee cup, into the sink to wash them, her mind full of questions. Was the amusing, charming Ben, that she’d witnessed the previous week, merely a product of his undoubted acting talent, this darker side of him being more his true personality? Was he paying such a substantial salary for this job because he knew that people wouldn’t want to work for him if he was rude and behaved in a pompous manner?
She put the glass and cup away and went over to where she’d left the vacuum cleaner, wondering why she was carrying on working and not putting on her coat and going home. If anyone else had spoken to her in such a manner she’d have been straight out of the door.
She turned on the vacuum cleaner and vigorously attacked the lounge carpet, venting her anger on the task.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ben come into the room, some time later, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, but pretended not to notice him.
After hovering around for several moments, waiting to catch her attention, he crossed the room and pulled the vacuum cleaner plug out of the wall socket.
Leanne glared at him.
Ben lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“I’ll say!” Leanne’s green eyes were like ice. “Just because I clean for you, doesn’t entitle you to speak to me like a servant.”
“I know.” Ben walked into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. “Let’s have a coffee.”
“I’ve just had one.” snapped Leanne.
“Well, have another.” Ben said, with his back to her. “Come on.” he glanced over his shoulder, “Sit down. I’d like to explain.”
With a sigh, Leanne stalked to into the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. Neither spoke until Ben finished making the coffee and placed Leanne’s in front of her, seating himself opposite to her, his elbows on the worktop, his fingers laced around his cup.
Leanne sipped hers, determined not to speak first.
“That was very rude of me.” Ben said presently. “But I can explain.” He looked at the top of Leanne’s head as she stared intently into her cup. He sighed, heavily.
“Back home,” he began, "I’m quite well known, and it makes things rather… complicated. People… want you… either because you’ve got plenty of money and can show them a ‘good time’, or because of what you can do for them, or for what being seen with you can do for them… rarely because of any feelings of… affection.” He sighed. “Or else you get the ones who fall in love with a character you create and believe you’re really like that, and they follow you around all the time…” He took a sip of his coffee before continuing.
“I’ve had several housekeepers back in the States. Some of them… well, they thought it made me… their property.”
Leanne raised her eyes now, to look at him, surprised by the tone of resentment in his voice. He was gazing blankly out of the window, a slight frown on his face.
“One or two of them tried to seduce me,” he continued. “and another...” He sighed. “…I injured my ankle playing tennis and, because I was off my feet for a couple of weeks, it gave her an excuse to move herself into my apartment to ‘look after me’. She refused to believe I only wanted her as a housekeeper. She told everyone she was my live-in lover. She used to bring me breakfast in bed, and buy me shirts and aftershave and stuff. She was a complete nutcase and she drove me crazy. I had a hell of a time getting rid of her.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s made me a bit paranoid. I hate pushy women. I like to do the chasing. I find these ‘Women’s Lib’ types, who go up to someone they like and start chatting them up, a real turn off. I’m out of the door like greased lightening. He sighed, shifting his gaze to hers now.
“When you suggested making breakfast for me, it was like ‘oh, no, here we go again’. Alarm bells started going off in my head, and I guess I over-reacted. This hangover’s made me a bit grouchy this morning. I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”
Leanne studied him for a moment, his eyes reminding her of a naughty puppy pleading forgiveness of its master. He looked as though he really cared about having snapped at her, and about what it would have made her think of him, but then this was what he did for a living, she reminded herself. It was possible he didn’t mean what he said, and even that his words weren’t the truth. She would have to be wary.
She sighed, theatrically. “I suppose so.” Then she smiled. “Just this once.”
He smiled back. “Thanks.” His compelling brown eyes held hers for an instant before he continued.
“That’s one of the reasons I gave you this job. You’re so… proper, so… reserved. You wouldn’t dream of trying it on with me.”
Leanne started at him for a moment. “I’m not sure how to take that.” she told him, wondering whether to be flattered or insulted.
“It was meant as a compliment.” he told her. He took another sip of his coffee. “I really do hate pushy women. I can tell you’re not like that.” He turned his gaze to hers. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Leanne shook her head. “Not at the moment.”
Ben shook his head. “You’d make someone a lovely wife.”
Leanne turned away, as thoughts of Tony brought tears to her eyes. After a two year engagement, and with wedding arrangements under way, she had found out that he was two-timing her with a secretary at the company where he worked as a draftsman. After a blazing row, she had ended their engagement. Tony hadn’t protested. The last she’d heard he was still seeing the girl. The experience had hurt her so badly that she’d had no desire to get involved in another relationship since.
An involuntary sigh escaped her.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something I shouldn’t have?” Ben was looking at her with concern in his eyes.
“No.” Leanne shook her head. “I was engaged a while ago.” She shrugged. “It didn’t work out.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
They were both silent for a few moments, alone with their thoughts. Eventually Leanne said, “I’ll finish the cleaning.” She stood up, putting the cup on the drainer, and crossed to plug the vacuum cleaner back in.
Ben left the room and, a short time later, came back in to announce that he had to go out.
“I’ll see you Friday.” he told her, as he headed for the door.
Leanne nodded. “Bye.”
That conversation with Ben had prevented Leanne from telling Ben how she felt about him. Every time she would be possessed with the urge to confess her feelings to him, his words would come to her and she would force the urge to the back of her mind.
In no time at all, it seemed, three weeks had passed, and Ben had announced to Leanne that he had to go back home to the States.
“Oh.” Leanne had tried to hide the disappointment in her voice. In that three weeks they had become good friends. There had been no further outbursts of temper from Ben, and she had found him to be witty and amusing, and he’d had her in hysterics with his impersonations of people from off the t.v. He could watch someone for five minutes or so, and then do an almost perfect imitation of them. He could never do them again after they’d gone off the screen, but for the few minutes he copied them, they were almost perfect. He was passionate about the Marx Brothers films, and often burst into an impression of Groucho Marx, strutting around the room with a large, fat cigar from a box that he kept for visitors, not being a smoker himself. “I suffered a lot with laryngitis as a boy.” he had told her. “If I smoke, or get in smoky atmospheres, my voice gives out altogether.” Leanne knew she would miss him a lot, but she didn’t dare say anything in case he took it the wrong way
Ben gave her his address and phone number in Los Angeles and asked her to forward any mail that came for him, and took her phone number, saying that he would call her to let her know when he would be coming over again.
“I know you’ll look after the place for me.” he told her, with a smile.
​
* * *
​
​
