Memory of Love
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- 9 -
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The following week, after much badgering, Leanne finally got Ben to agree to go out with her, for a meal.
She took him to a quiet restaurant she knew, on the outskirts of the city. No-one bothered them and they had a pleasant meal, Ben listening, intently, while Leanne told him about herself. She’d spent so much time educating him about himself he realised that he knew nothing about her.
She told him about her family, her school and college days, about old boyfriends, although she didn’t mention Tony, holidays abroad with various friends, and the scrapes they’d gotten into on them.
By the end of the evening, Ben knew more about her than he’d ever known - not that he could have known that. He wanted to know how she’d come to be working for him, and Leanne explained how Rowena had pestered her to take the job.
“When Row said you were an actor, I was dead set against it.” she told him. “I thought you’d be a real pain. But Rowena kept on and on, so, in the end, I agreed to let her send me for an interview, just to shut her up.”
“So, what happened?” Ben looked fascinated.
Leanne gazed at him, her heart pounding, lost for a suitable answer. What could she say? I thought you were a dish? I fancied you? It was love at first sight? All of those things were true, although she hadn’t realised it until much later, but she couldn’t say that to him.
She lowered her eyes, fiddling with her napkin, before looking at him with what she hoped was a mysterious expression.
“You made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, darlink” she replied, in an affected accent.
Ben sensed there was something she wasn’t telling him, but perhaps she was being polite to spare his feelings.
“Did I now?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling, mischievously, as he probed for more information. “And what was that?”
“I couldn’t possibly say.” Leanne looked demure. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until you remember the details yourself.”
A strange look came into Ben’s eyes. Was she joking? Or had there been more to their relationship than just employer and employee?
He felt close to Leanne and she, in turn, was caring and supportive towards him, but she’d never made any move towards him, or said anything that indicated they’d been anything other than just friends. But was she behaving like that because of his amnesia? She might think that if she told him they were lovers, he would feel obliged to continue with the relationship, even though he could remember nothing of it, and he was sure that Leanne wouldn’t want that. She would probably wait for him to remember on his own. But he might never remember, and then what?
He looked away, feeling confused and angry. If only he could remember.
He brooded about it all the way home, and lay awake half the night wracking his brain for the tiniest flicker of memory.
He thought about asking her outright if they’d been lovers, but if he did, and they hadn’t, she might take offence, leave even, and he didn’t want that.
The next weekend, he went round to Leanne’s flat and she cooked him a meal. When they’d gone out earlier in the week Ben had insisted on paying, even though the outing had been Leanne’s idea. Leanne had agreed only if he promised to let her cook him dinner in return. Ben had graciously conceded.
It was only the second time that Ben had been to Leanne’s flat, the first time being the Christmas they’d spent together three years before, although Ben remembered nothing of it and Leanne had decided not to mention it to him in case he got the wrong idea.
After they’d eaten, they sat around the fire in the dim light of a small table lamp, chatting, as they had done that Christmas night. Leanne had hoped it might trigger a memory in Ben’s mind, but it didn’t appear to.
Leanne went into the kitchen to make them some coffee and Ben picked up one of the photograph albums that she kept in a bookcase by the side of the fire, and began to flip through it.
“Oh, God, don’t look at those!” Leanne laughed, when she returned with the coffee. “I look awful in beach photographs.”
She put down the tray and bent to look over his shoulder at the photographs, pointing out various relatives and friends that she’d told him about earlier in the week.
“Looks like you had a lot of fun.” Ben commented with a smile.
Leanne nodded. “Yes. I love going overseas. I like the nightlife, the sun, the sand and the sea. You appreciate it a whole lot more when you live in a climate like ours. She sighed, wistfully. “It’s rarely warm enough to swim in our sea, and swimming in the public baths is no substitute.”
Ben nodded. “I haven’t swum in ages.” he said, still flipping through the photographs.
He jumped when Leanne shrieked, “Ben!”
“What?” Ben turned to look at her with a startled expression.
“Think what you just said.” Leanne was staring intently at him.
“Huh?” Ben looked puzzled.
“You said you hadn’t swum in ages. How do you know you can swim?”
Ben stared past her for a moment, trying to think. He hadn’t even thought about what he was saying. He couldn’t remember if he could swim or not, so why had he said it?
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can swim or not.”
“You must be able to.” Leanne told him. “That was a subconscious thought. Something that’s as natural to you as… as walking. Oh, Ben, don’t you see? Your memory hasn’t gone, you’ve just got to unlock it.”
Ben put a hand across his forehead, feeling confused.
“But, how?” he muttered.
“I don’t know. But it’ll come.” said Leanne. “It’ll come.”
That night, Ben lay awake for hours, trying desperately to unlock the door to his memory. When he finally slept, he dreamed he was floundering in a giant swimming pool. Around the edge of the pool a crowd of people stood, watching, as he repeatedly sank beneath the surface.
‘Help me!’ he called, as he surfaced once more, but, as he looked up at them, he saw that they had no faces, only an expanse of white flesh where their features should have been.
‘Help me!’ he called again, as he sank once more beneath the surface.
He woke, abruptly, gasping for air, his face beaded in perspiration.
He sat up in bed, raking his hair back off his face with trembling hands, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The dream had been so real, he’d really felt as though he was drowning.
He climbed out of bed and put a blue towelling robe over his pyjama bottoms before heading downstairs to the study. Switching on a small table lamp he then went into the lounge to pour himself a glass of scotch, which he downed in one gulp before pouring another and returning to the study, sitting down heavily on the sofa, a shiver of cold running through him.
He glanced at the clock on the desk. It was only five fifteen. The central heating wouldn’t come on for another hour yet. He got up and turned on the gas fire, mounted in the fireplace, before sitting back down on the sofa and gazing thoughtfully into the flames.
He still wondered whether or not he could swim. As Leanne had said, to have said it so spontaneously it was probably true but, try as he might, he couldn’t remember ever doing so. He thought about the t.v. show he was supposed to be working on, wracking his brain for the slightest memory of it. Even though he’d seen himself playing the role on screen, and met some of the people he worked with, he couldn’t remember ever seeing any of them before, and began to doubt that anything was ever going to bring his memory back.
It was all very well for Leanne to say he could start again. She had no idea what it was like to have no background, no identity, to constantly wonder about one’s family, friends, things done as a child, one’s ambitions, hopes, fears. He sighed. He didn’t know if he could live the rest of his life like this.
He lifted his hand to massage his temple, aware of a niggling ache at the back of his eyes.
He put down the glass and stretched out on the sofa. He tried to relax, but his mind kept returning to the problem. He wanted to stop thinking about it, it was driving him crazy, but his brain wouldn’t let him and before long he had a pounding headache.
He got up and switched on the radio, hoping the DJ’s patter would divert his thoughts onto other subjects, but it was already too late. The headache had taken hold and was getting steadily worse.
Ben threw himself face down on the sofa with a groan. If he could sleep, it might go away.
He folded his arms, burying his face in them and taking deep breaths, counting them in and out, four seconds each, which did make him drowsy, but now the headache prevented him from sleeping.
Leanne arrived at ten o’clock, to find him sprawled, face down, on the sofa, still in his robe, with the lamp still on.
“Ben?” She looked around, wondering how long he’d been there. Ben gave a groan in reply.
She crouched down by his side, putting her hand on his shoulder.
“Headache?” she asked.
Ben gave a vague nod.
Leanne went into the kitchen to get the pills the doctor had prescribed for him, which she’d hidden in one of the cupboards.
“Here, take these.” she told him crouching down by him once more, a glass of water in one hand the pills in the other.
“Ben!” she called, when he didn’t move. “Take these. The doctor prescribed them for you. They’ll help.”
Ben slowly struggled onto his side, squinting in the lamplight.
Leanne handed him the pills and then reached over to turn off the lamp.
Ben threw the pills into his mouth, then took the glass of water and swallowed them down.
“Thank you.” he whispered, before burying his face in his arms once more.
Leanne went off to see to the housework, quietly closing the study door after her so as not to disturb him.
When she’d finished, she went back in to him. The pills had been quite effective, dulling the pain but also making him drowsy.
As she approached, he was lying on his side, gazing vacantly into the fire through half closed eyes.
“Ben?” She sat on the floor by the sofa. “Are you feeling better?”
Ben nodded, slowly, without looking at her. “A little.”
She gazed lovingly up at his face, his cheeks flushed by the heat of the fire, its flames reflected in his dark eyes. He looked the most relaxed she’d seen him since the accident.
Without thinking, she raised her hand and gently stroked the back of it across his cheek.
The action seemed to bring him out of his reverie. He shifted his gaze to hers. Leanne, realising what she’d done, hastily removed her hand.
Their eyes met and held, each searching the other's, she for some flicker of memory, he for answers to all the unanswered questions in his head.
From her position on the floor, she was only inches from his face and she had to use every ounce of willpower to keep from leaning over and kissing him.
“Why do you do this?” Ben asked suddenly.
“Do what?”
“Spend so much time looking after me? You must have better things to do?”
“It’s what you pay me for, isn’t it?” Leanne joked, nervously.
“Whatever I’m paying you, it isn’t enough.” Ben smiled, tiredly, his eyelids drooping. The pills were beginning to have their desired effect, and he was almost asleep.
“Remind me to ask you for a raise.” Leanne smiled. She made to get up and leave, so that he could sleep in peace, but he caught her arm as she did so.
“Seriously, Leanne… I don’t know how… close… we were, before…” he gave her a scrutinising stare. When she didn’t offer any comment, he continued. “…but you’ve been a good friend to me these last weeks. Thank you...”
“We’ve always been good friends.” Leanne replied, swallowing down the lump which had risen in her throat. “Now,” she patted his hand, “you sleep a while. I have some shopping to do. I’ll see you later.”
Ben didn’t reply, almost asleep already.
Leanne stood up and stood watching him momentarily, drinking in his features. If only he knew just how much she wished they could be more than friends, but that depended on Ben.
With a sigh, she turned and quietly left the room.
Ben was quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the week. He spent a lot of time in the study, sprawled on the couch, gazing thoughtfully out of the window. It was obvious that he had a lot of things on his mind. Leanne came and went, cleaning, washing, shopping, Ben seeming barely aware of her presence.
She had promised her parents a pre-Christmas visit, the following weekend, since they were going on holiday, to Greece, for Christmas and wanted to see Leanne beforehand, to give her her presents. She was a bit dubious about leaving Ben on his own while he was in this strange mood, but she couldn’t really put off going any longer.
“Ben, I’m going to visit my parents at the weekend. Will you be alright alone?” she’d asked him on Thursday.
“Mmm? Oh, yeah, sure.” Ben had replied absently.
As she drove up the motorway, towards Birmingham, on Friday evening, armed with presents for her parents and friends, she worried about him. Would he remember to eat? Would he have any more bad headaches? She hadn’t told him where she’d hidden the pills the doctor had left him worried that he might take too many. Now she worried that he might need them.
As she got nearer to Birmingham, however, her thoughts turned away from Ben, towards her family. She was very close to her parents and missed them a lot since she’d moved to London. Until recently, she had made sure that she went home for the weekend at least every month or so, but hadn’t been back since Ben’s accident.
She had explained to them about the accident, and that she was having to devote extra time to Ben, to try and help him get his memory back, but they would begin to ask awkward questions soon if she didn’t visit them.
In one telephone conversation with them, her father had called him a “slave driver”, accusing him of taking advantage of her good nature. He couldn’t know that she did it out of love.
She began to plan what she would do with the weekend. Get in touch with a couple of old school friends maybe. Perhaps take in nightclub on Saturday evening. She felt a pang of guilt for planning to go out and enjoy herself while Ben would be home alone but, hell, it hadn’t been easy for her either these last few months. She needed a break. Ben could go out if he wanted to. Why should she feel guilty because he chose not to? If he wanted to sit at home and brood, that was his choice. She was going to enjoy herself this weekend if it killed her.
And enjoy herself she did. On Saturday, she went shopping in the city with her Mother, treating herself to a couple of new tops and a pair of trousers. Later, they’d had lunch in their favourite Italian restaurant in the city centre.
She rang Caroline, her best friend from her schooldays, and they arranged to meet in the evening.
Leanne drove to Caroline’s house, and they shared a bottle of wine before going into the city to a nightclub. Leanne was careful not to say too much about Ben, party because she felt a duty to keep Ben’s private life private, and partly because she was making a concentrated effort to put Ben out of her mind for this weekend.
It had been a long time since Leanne had been out dancing, and she thoroughly enjoyed it. They were chatted up by a couple of young men who bought their drinks for the rest of the evening. They were amusing, and good company, and it was a pleasant change for Leanne to hear some of the local humour of her home town. It reinforced her view that the people in London were so much more serious than those in the north of the country.
​
When it was time to leave, the men asked if they could see the girls home but, as they’d come in Leanne’s car, they declined.
Paul, the one who had been with Leanne, asked if he could see her again.
Leanne had enjoyed his company, and under any other circumstances, she might have said yes, but she explained that she was only visiting for the weekend and would be going back to London the next afternoon. She didn’t allow herself to think of the other reason why she’d refused.
The next morning, after having a lie-in, she took her parent’s dog, a border collie named Duchess, for a walk in the local park, while her Mother prepared their Sunday lunch.
She spent a pleasant half hour throwing a stick for the dog, who raced around, retrieving it and bringing it back to her, barking madly and wagging her tail furiously. By the time Leanne got back home her cheeks were flushed by the cold wind, her green eyes shining.
“That was refreshing.” she told her Mother as she sat down at the dinner table. “I’m starved.”
“It does you good to get out in the fresh air.” her Mother told her. “I don’t suppose you get much chance down in London?”
“No, not really.” Leanne agreed. Especially not lately. She’d spent most of her time with Ben. With a rush of guilt, she suddenly realised that she’d been so busy enjoying herself the previous night, she hadn’t given Ben a thought. She wondered if he was alright.
“Something wrong?” her mother enquired, as a frown appeared on Leanne’s brow.
“Mmm? Oh, no, nothing. I was just thinking about Ben. I hope he’s alright.”
“You spend far too much time working for that lad.” her father told her. “Just because he pays you a wage doesn’t entitle him to every minute of your time, or to expect you to drop everything when he calls.”
Leanne glared at her father. “He doesn’t expect me to drop everything.” she said, protectively. “I do it because I want to.” she snapped.
Her mother looked at Leanne through narrowed eyes.
“Is there something you’re not telling us, Leanne? You’re not… you know… living with him?”
Leanne gave her mother an exasperated look.
“No, Mom, I’m not.” she sighed. “I go to his house every day to do his cleaning, run any errands he needs and type his letters and stuff. Normally, I’m only there a couple of hours a day but, since his accident, I’ve spend a lot of time with him, re-educating him about himself.” She sighed. “We’re just friends, Mom.” If only her mother knew how much she wished it was different.
But her mother was smarter than Leanne gave her credit for. She had seen the glow in her daughter’s eyes whenever she talked about Ben.
“Hasn’t he got his memory back at all?” she asked now.
Leanne shook her head. “No. We thought he’d remembered something last week, but…” she shrugged. “He drives himself crazy trying to remember things, and he’s been having the most awful headaches.” She looked at her mother now. “I mean really bad, Mom. I had to get the doctor out to him the other week when he had one. I thought he was having a stroke, or a brain haemorrhage, or something. He was in tears, the pain was so bad. It really scared me.” She closed here eyes, briefly as she remembered.
Her mother exchanged glances with her father.
Leanne opened her eyes and looked at them. “He’s been through a lot,” she told them, “and I’ll help him in any way I can” she looked pointedly at her father, “for however long it takes.”
Her expression said that the matter was closed, and her parents knew better than to push it. Despite her generous nature, and easy going manner, she had a stubborn streak and could be very single minded when the mood took her.
She’d been the same when she’d decided to go to art college, in London, her mother recalled, as she stared at her daughter’s set features. They couldn’t see what was wrong with the college in Birmingham, and had tried to talk her out of going but, even though she loved her parents dearly, she would not be swayed from her decision.
After lunch, she popped over to visit Judith, another girlfriend from her school days, who lived just across the street. She had been married, and divorced, and had a four year old daughter, called Trudie, who was so cute Leanne always came away feeling broody. Often, she would imagine herself, married to Ben, with a little daughter just like her.
Judith was a big fan of Ben’s and bombarded Leanne with questions about him every time she came to visit. Although Judith had read a little bit about Ben’s accident in the press, she had no idea of the seriousness of what had happened and Leanne didn’t want to say too much about it and was evasive when Judith asked her about it.
“It was a rainy night, the car skidded off the road and turned over.” she told her.
“Wasn’t he with some girl? She was killed, wasn’t she?” asked Judith, her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the newspaper stories.
“Yes.” Leanne replied. She didn’t say it was Joanna who had been driving the car.
“God, how awful.” gasped Judith. “Were they close? Was he very upset?”
“I don’t think it’s really hit him yet. He doesn’t remember much about the accident, and no, he didn’t know her very well.” Leanne replied, not wanting to tell her about Ben’s amnesia. “He was quite badly hurt. He’s been too busy trying to get well to really think about it. That’s why I haven’t been home for so long. I’ve been spending a fair bit of time with him. He was off his feet for quite a while.”
“The poor man.” said Judith. “Is he alright now?”
“More or less.” said Leanne. “Anyway,” she changed the subject, “what about you? How’s this little bundle of trouble?” she asked, tickling Trudie who was sitting on her mother’s knee. Trudie giggled loudly.
Judith forgot about Ben then, and started to tell Leanne all about Trudie’s first day at school, a few months earlier, and about the flu she’d had a few weeks ago.
Leanne spent a couple of hours chatting to Judith, and her parents, before bidding them goodbye.
“Don’t leave it so long before you come again.” Judith told her, as she waved her off at the door, Trudie in her arms.
“I’ll try not to.” smiled Leanne. “I’ll try and let you know in advance next time. Maybe we could go out somewhere?”
“That would be great.” smiled Judith. “I don’t get much opportunity to get out these days, what with madam here.” she indicated the child.
Leanne went back to her parent’s house to collect her bag. She’d spent longer than she intended at Judith’s and it was already getting dark. She wanted to get off as quickly as possible.
Her father loaded her bag into the car, while her mother fussed around.
“Have you got everything? Have you got enough petrol? Are your tyres alright?”
“Yes, Mom, I’ve got everything, and the car’s fine.” sighed Leanne. Her Mother always worried about her driving down to London alone, especially in the winter.
“Drive carefully, love, and don’t leave it too long until you come again.”
“I won’t.” Leanne kissed her mother’s cheek. “Have a nice holiday, won’t you?”
Her mother nodded. “And you have a nice Christmas.”
Leanne kissed her father and got into the car.
“Give Ben our regards.” her mother bent to say through the window. “I hope he’ll be alright soon.”
Leanne grinned at her mother’s attempt to be gracious, despite her reservations about her daughter’s ‘cleaning job’.
“I will. Thanks Mom.”
With a wave, she drove off, getting onto the motorway a couple of miles from her house, and heading south.
She pulled in at a service area, halfway back, for a cup of coffee and a sandwich. It was half past eight when she arrived back at her flat.
She unpacked her things and took a leisurely soak in the bath to unwind from her journey. Driving on the motorway in the dark always made her tense. Afterwards, she decided to give Ben a ring, to tell him she was back and make sure he was alright.
She dialled the number, wondering if he would answer the phone. He was still a bit paranoid about it.
It rang out for a long time, and Leanne was just about to hang up when Ben picked it up.
“Hello?” Ben’s deep, husky voice sent a shiver through her body.
“Hi. It’s Leanne.” she said cheerfully. “I just got back. Are you alright?”
“Where’ve you been?” Ben’s voice was accusing. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
“I’ve been to my parents.” Leanne told him, frowning at his harsh tone. “I told you I was going.”
“I don’t remember.” Ben snapped.
“No. I’m not surprised.” Leanne said frostily. “You’ve barely heard a word I’ve said to you all week.”
Ben didn’t reply.
“Why did you call me anyway?” she asked, wondering if perhaps he’d had a headache and was angry because she hadn’t left him any pills.
After a brief pause, Ben replied coolly. “It wasn’t important.”
“Right.” Leanne replied, irritably. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Ben replied, equally irritably.
“Goodbye.” Leanne banged the receiver down, glaring angrily at the telephone. What on earth had got into him? He wasn’t normally bad tempered.
Her father’s warning about him taking advantage of her good nature suddenly sprang into her mind. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps Ben did think that paying her the substantial salary she received entitled him to call on her whenever he felt like it, day or night, and, because she hadn’t been around, just when he wanted her, he was sulking.
She’d spent every spare minute with him since the accident, pandering to his every need. Perhaps he was beginning to take it for granted. Well, he could forget that! Leanne bristled. Because of her love for him, she’d let him walk all over her and it wasn’t good for either of them. Well, from now on, she would go back to just doing his housework and secretarial work, and nothing else. It was time he stood on his own two feet. He’d wallowed in self pity for long enough.
She let herself into Ben’s house the next morning, her resolve to be cool with him rapidly being overtaken by her desire to see him again. While she’d been away she’d managed to distance herself from the intense feelings he brought out in her but, now, as she entered the house, the two days she hadn’t seen him suddenly seemed like years.
She looked around, but couldn’t see him anywhere. She hung up her coat and walked into the kitchen, stopping, abruptly, when she saw Ben sitting at the breakfast bar, a mug of coffee in one hand and his chin resting on the other as he read the morning paper. He was wearing a navy blue sweater over a pale blue shirt, jeans and sneakers.
Leanne’s heart began to pound wildly in her chest at the sight of him. She resisted the urge to go over and hug him, trying to look cool as he lifted his eyes to hers. They stared at each other for a long moment, before Ben finally gave her a sheepish smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Leanne replied, not returning his smile. She turned away from him and began getting out dusters and polish.
“Want some coffee?” Ben ventured.
“No, thanks. I had one before I left home.” Leanne disappeared out of the kitchen, duster and polish in hand, leaving Ben with a confused look on his face.
“Leanne.” Ben’s voice drifted out from the study when she came downstairs, from cleaning the bathroom, some time later.
She stood still for a moment, before venturing inside the room. Ben was standing by the window, his arms folded, gazing out.
“Yes?” she enquired, with utmost politeness.
He turned to face her, a troubled look in his eyes
“I’ve decided to go back to the States for a while.” he said suddenly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.” he continued, when Leanne didn’t reply, turning to pace up and down the carpet. “I thought, perhaps something there… might trigger my memory.” He stopped pacing and turned to face her. “What do you think?” he asked, his eyes searching hers anxiously.
“I…” Leanne began, swallowing hard as tears welled up inside her. It was a good idea, but it was so unexpected, although she realised now that this must have been why he’d been so preoccupied this past week and was probably the reason why he’d snapped at her on the phone the previous night. He must have wanted to discuss his thoughts with her while she’d been away. A warm glow spread through her at the thought, a glow that was quickly replaced by a chill when she realised that he was going away, indefinitely. She would miss him so much, but she couldn’t tell him.
“…I think it’s a good idea.” she managed finally. “Wh-when were you thinking of going?”
“At the end of the week I think. Would you book a flight for me?”
Leanne nodded. “Open, or return?” she croaked.
“Open. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying.”
Leanne cleared her throat. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.
Ben shook his head, his eyes full of trepidation.
“No. I’m terrified.” he admitted. “I can’t remember a thing about the place, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve exhausted all other possibilities, and it is my home after all, or so I’m told.” He sighed. “I’m terrified to go, but I’ve got to try and get my memory back. I’ll go crazy otherwise.” He turned baleful eyes to hers.
“I’ll go and book a flight for you.” said Leanne, turning hastily away before he saw the tears pricking her eyes.
She booked him on a flight for that Friday afternoon and then looked up the address he’d given her to forward his mail to in Los Angeles.
“Here.” She handed him the piece of paper with his address on. “I’ve booked you on a flight on Friday afternoon.”
“Thanks.” said Ben, gazing thoughtfully at the piece of paper in his hand. “Doesn’t ring any bells.” he remarked.
“Perhaps it will when you get there.” said Leanne.
As the week wore on, the atmosphere between Ben and Leanne grew more and more strained. Leanne had the nagging feeling that once Ben got back to America he would stay there, and she would never see him again. Never hear that husky voice, look into those deep, dark eyes, or see the sunlight picking out the auburn glints in his hair. Her blood ran cold at the thought.
Although she knew he’d made the right decision, every time she looked at him she wanted to beg him not to go, to tell him how much she loved him, but she didn’t dare. Although they’d become good friends since the accident, closer than before, Leanne knew that it was probably only due to his amnesia. He’d needed someone to cling to and she’d been the closest one to him. Sometimes, she fancied she’d seen a flash of something else deep in his eyes but put it down to wishful thinking. She had to remind herself that, before the accident, Ben had never shown any interest in her other than as a friend and a valued employee. She couldn’t expect that to change now.
The strain of keeping her feelings in check made her snappy and irritable.
Ben, in turn, was apprehensive about the trip. He couldn’t remember anything of his life in America and was nervous about being alone in a strange place. He couldn’t remember ever having flown in an aircraft either, and was more than a little apprehensive about that. But, more than either of those, he was afraid that the trip might not trigger his memory. It was his last hope and if it didn’t work he didn’t know what he was going to do.
And so, all week, they circled around each other, emotionally, hiding their vulnerability by snapping and snarling at each other, while they each stole long, searching, glances at the other when their backs were turned, Ben seeking reassurance, Leanne committing Ben’s features to memory lest she should never see him again.
By Thursday, Ben had fretted so much about he trip and its possible outcomes, that he developed a raging migraine headache.
Leanne had just got out of the bath and was sitting in her bath robe, drying her hair, when the phone rang. She switched off the hair dryer and picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Leanne?” A strangled voice greeted her.
“Yes.” Leanne frowned, wondering who it was.
“It’s me… Ben…”
“Ben? I didn’t recognise your voice. Is something wrong?”
“I… it’s… my head…” Ben sounded disorientated, and on the verge of tears.
“Your pills are…” Leanne began, but then had second thoughts. “Never mind, I’ll be right over. Just lie down and try to relax.” she told him.
She hung up the phone and quickly dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, tying her still damp hair up in a ponytail, before grabbing her car keys and running down to her car. She glanced at her watch. It was 9pm. Ben was booked on a flight at 2pm the next afternoon. She hoped he would be fit enough to make it.
As she started the car, she reminded herself of the resolution she was breaking, not to drop everything when Ben called. She could have told him where the pills were and left it at that. But, she told herself, if she’d told him where the pills were, he probably wouldn’t have been able to find them. They were hidden away in the larder, inside an empty pepper pot. Even if Ben had understood her instructions, he probably couldn’t have carried them out, and in any case, she didn’t trust him to only take two when he was in pain. Anyway, she didn’t like the idea of him being alone in the house if he was unwell. Anything might happen.
She drove as quickly as she could, cutting the twenty minute journey to fifteen.
She parked the car and hurried inside, to find Ben sprawled face down on the sofa, in the lounge, moaning softly.
Leanne hurried into the kitchen and got the pills, taking out two and filling a glass with water and carrying them over to the sofa.
“Here, take these.” She helped Ben sit up and gave him the pills, steadying his trembling hand as he sipped the water.
He handed her the glass back and lay back down. Leanne sat on the floor watching him. These headaches really took it out of him. His face looked drawn, his eyes were tightly closed and his mouth clamped shut, his teeth clenched against the pain.
“Relax.” she told him, reaching out to push back a lock of hair, gently stroking it back off his forehead, her eyes full of love and compassion.
With a groan, Ben leaned over, put his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him, his head against her chest as he clung tightly to her.
Every nerve in Leanne’s body tingled with desire as she felt his warm, strong arms around her, smelt the mingled smell of aftershave mixed with that indefinable scent that was Ben’s own.
Giving in to her feelings for once, she put her arms around him and hugged him close, her head bent over his, brushing her lips against his hair and drinking in the scent of him, wishing they could stay like this forever.
She made soothing, cooing noises while committing the moment to memory. It was doubtful she would ever be this close to him again and she wanted to cherish the moment forever. Ben, oblivious to everything but the hammering in his head, clung to her, whimpering softly.
Leanne could feel the tension start to go out of him as the pills started to work.
“Better?” she asked presently.
A weary “Mmm.” wafted up to her.
Leanne peeled him off her and pushed him gently back down on the sofa, gazing worriedly into his eyes.
“You only seem to get these headaches when you’re tense, or upset. What’s wrong?” she asked.
The pills had relaxed his tongue, as well as his body, and he poured out his worries and his fears to her, as they sat in the darkness, the only light, the glow from the gas fire.
“I don’t know what I’ll do it this doesn’t work.” He looked at her with wide, sad eyes.
Leanne had no answers for him. She smiled lovingly at him and leaned forward to pat his arm.
“You try and sleep or you won’t even be on that plane tomorrow.”
Ben squeezed her hand, smiling up at her, a sweet, tired smile that tore at her heart.
Getting up, she crept out of the room, closing the door quietly after her. She waited for half an hour before going back in with a blanket she’d fetched from upstairs.
Ben was sleeping peacefully now. He looked like a little boy, his hair fallen over his forehead, one hand tucked under his chin, his dark lashes almost touching his cheeks.
Leanne covered him with the blanket and then bent to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“I love you.” she whispered, softly, straightening up and gazing at him for a long moment before turning to lower the gas fire and then quietly leaving the house.
It was after eleven thirty when she arrived home. As she drifted off to sleep, the image of Ben’s boyish face, as he’d lain asleep on the sofa, floated into her mind. With a moan of desire, she threw her arms around her pillow, hugging it close, dreaming it was Ben.
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