I shan't divulge how we initially met because, frankly, the details escape me. You'd think I would remember such a thing but perhaps the circumstance was so bizarre I have repressed it. That wouldn't surprise me, all things considered. I do however remember that at the time and afterward I was particularly androgynous in appearance and half the time did not know what people thought me. Yet I did not care much so kept quiet on the issue. Those who knew me knew me, after all.
It began when we found ourselves, friends who knew me well and she who did not, taking a holiday in a renovated tower. She was some years older than us and seemed to want to take private refuge in the uppermost rooms. Whilst my companions, who paid her little attention, busied themselves with setting up various camp beds and trying to find television reception, I got into my head the notion that I ought to take her some tea, besides I wanted to see if any of the upper rooms took my fancy, preferring my own space. I take this mug of tea up to the top landing, where just below the high window, pinned, up, was a bedsheet. Whatever it was there for, I found her indeed taking refuge behind it, huddled in a corner. "Thought you might want this."
She took the mug with a "Thank you,", clasping it in both hands carefully so as not to spill any on her white jumper. "I can't stay long," she says. "Don't know why I came really; they'll expect me back." I nodded in understanding, for I seemed to be the only one of our party who knew of her career and what she would have to go back to, putting on a show. If, I thought, if I were to ask her to kiss me – it occurred to me suddenly that, whilst I wouldn't want to admit it, that had been my reason for finding her – and she accepted, what would we do? Steal a few moments in this concealed alcove, away from the others who wouldn't approve before she went back to being someone else? You never knew with these things now, sometimes all you could do was ask.
It is to my great shame and embarrassment that I did ask, and upon her response I felt I had treated her poorly. Her query, it transpired, was not over me – which I found greatly flattering – but over the 'someone else' common in these scenarios. There was someone else, distant, and separate though they were, and children. I could have been sick with guilt at that, but we resolved it, well and on good terms.
The intervening period between our resolution and what I am next describing is of no consequence. We found ourselves, now together, residing in my family home. I hadn't known where else to take her and it was spacious and secluded if nothing else. We are established as a couple, and because everything about her must be known by everyone, there's scarcely a soul who isn't aware of it. We aren't bombarded by the press, here it's private, but we have had several interviews.
Private as it is, various men of importance with vaguely familiar faces, who appear to only dress in suits must accompany her around due to her position. Mum isn't a great fan of these men who crowd her kitchen and to be honest neither am I. They treat me courteously and smile graciously at me as they go about making themselves tea and the like, but it would be too much for them to think of this as more than a brief fling. I suspect this too though I keep it to myself, hoping it chiefly my inclination to pessimism. Going to the kitchen, I pass one of these men in suits, who gives me one of his gracious smiles as he dries his hand on the towel by the sink. Thankfully for Mum he appears to be the only one present. Our good family friend who lives down the road is visiting, watching our most recent tv interview with some amazement.
It was a sit-down one, with both of us. I, for some reason, had thought a navy suit a sensible choice. We held hands lightly under the desk. During it, we felt brave, we were both here, not alone to allow people to speculate on our mysterious respective 'lover'. What we said when asked about each other I don't recall, but I believe the age gap was addressed, despite it not being shockingly huge.
Our friend questions me - not an interrogation but questioning nonetheless - she wouldn't have thought me the type to get involved in this sort of thing; when did it start? How did we meet? I can think of nothing to say that will satisfy her, so I leave them to it, picking up the car keys from the dresser as I exit.
I go up to the rooms at the top of the house, it seemed right for that to be our space given where it had all started. The rooms had no use before we arrived, so we made them up as ours, keeping out of the family's way to avoid their disapproval. I don't mean to discredit them, but I was sure I felt it and generally avoided eye-contact.
I expected it to end, to be nothing but a fling, for her to one day turn around and say, "See you, kid," and go back to her old life. If you've ever seen the film My Week with Marilyn, it felt like that. I felt like Colin, low down on the hierarchy, "kid", "little Colin's in love." In a way they were right, we could tell no one expected it to last.
I sat down on the stool by the window. It did feel like a dream at times. I was reflecting on this cynical outlook when I heard her ascend the stairs. She came and sat by me, lightly kissing my cheek. I remembered the car keys in my pocket, thinking I should take her hand and abscond, drive away for a while, for what I didn't know, but just us. But I knew that couldn't happen.
Colin and Marilyn had tried it, true, but then they had had her bodyguard-driver in on it. We couldn't just disappear, we would have to be driven by one of the suited men, seated in the back like infants being watched. I daren't drive her myself, as much as I wanted to, the risk was too great. It had occurred to Colin and so it did me, 'What if the car crashed and she was killed?' I would never have a moment's peace again, from guilt or the media. And even if all was well, we would be chased and found and brought back under duress, such did her life require. I tell her of this pipe dream, and we agree it would do little good. We sit in the window and watch the sunlight.
