Their tastes in music were just as varied. They loved classical pieces, but were equally happy to chill out to the easy going songs of the sixties and seventies. Television was the least debated area, not because they could not agree on them, but rather it was due to their both having little time to watch the long running series currently favoured. Life was just not compatible with programming schedules, but the conversation picked up as soon as Catlin confessed a weakness for classic movies and television shows. It went on like that for the rest of the afternoon. It was as if each of them had, for the first time in their lives, found someone who did not just have similar interests and tastes, but did not ridicule them for their actions.
The hours flew by unobserved, fleeting as a fractured second and yet it was as if they had been out there for an age and that time had ceased to be. Catlin had frequently wondered if time as a concept really existed. How could minutes feel like hours and hours like seconds if there was such a thing as ‘time’? She voiced her query without thinking, the ease of communication with Ben having lowered her defences and she could not stop the words from pouring out of her mouth. She began to regret them instantly – such questions had made her a laughing stock in the past, but again proved himself unlike any other individual she had encountered before and he simply looked over at her and said,
“If you want my opinion on the subject, I get more certain with every passing moment that time as we think of it is of very little importance.”
It seemed to last forever, but too soon they were back at Catlin’s car. It wasn’t until then she realised that, at some point unknown to her, Ben had taken hold of her hand and they were still linked together as they reached the car park.
“Where’s your car?” Catlin enquired, seeing the single vehicle there was hers.
“I’ve not got one. Someone gave me a lift.”
“In that case, do you need a lift back to town?” She was inwardly willing him to accept her offer.
“Thanks, but I’m not heading that way.”
“Right. Well, this is me so I’ll be saying good-bye.”
“Yeah, bye.” Ben lifted the hand which held hers slightly, but kept hold of it, as reluctant to let go as she was, perhaps more so as he squeezed it tighter as she looked to her car. Catlin’s fingers too wrapped themselves around his in an involuntary response, locking their hands together more firmly than they had been at any point during their walk.
“I’ve had a great time talking with you this afternoon,” he said quietly, as if afraid that by speaking he was violating some code of silence.
“I enjoyed it too. Maybe we could do it again?”
“Maybe we could. Let’s hope so, anyway.”
“Soon?”
“The sooner the better. There’s no telling when I might be called away.”
Catlin’s stomach curled inside as her feelings took the blow. She had forgotten along the way that Ben was not a local and was merely on a flying visit to the area. The disappointment caused her fingers to slacken, alerting Ben to the alteration in her mood.
“If my luck holds out I should be around for a while. I’m certainly not planning on leaving yet. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone as intriguing as you.” Intriguing? She liked that. Catlin’s head lifted, as did her heart, at that and their eyes met fully. Ben reached up and swept a stray strand of her hair, which had curled in the wind, back into place, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush lightly against her cheek. There was something magical in that touch, something so powerful in its source it had to of another world. Catlin was not exactly a novice where men were concerned, but the thrill of his skin connecting with hers made her feel as if it was the first time a man had laid hands upon her and she quivered inside.
The sparks that were flying between them could have set a wildfire raging, but as she thought he was going to move in and kiss her, Ben hastily withdrew his hand and took an unsteady step backwards.
“You’d better be going. It’s later than it looks and you don’t want to be out here after dark.
“Sure,” Catlin stammered out, trying to regain some kind of composure. “Are you certain about a lift?”
“Positive. I’ll be on my way soon enough.” Catlin unlocked her car and began to get in to it.
“If you find yourself at a loose end any time, you know where to find me. Feel free to pop in any time.”
“If I’ve the chance to, I’ll come by soon.” Ben made a valiant attempt to appear happier than he was, but Catlin, an expert in masking the darker emotions, saw right through him. Shooting him the forced smile of her trade Catlin climbed into her car and drove off. She took a final glance back in her rear view mirror to where she had left him – a lonesome figure, hand raised in a farewell, gradually fading into the distance.
On the road home, Catlin could not help but be frustrated by the turn of events. It had been unmistakable and unmissable, the connection between them. He had wanted to kiss her almost as much as she wanted to kiss him, despite her reservations about getting involved with another man until the day you could go ice skating in Hell. Why had he pulled back from her? It had to have been as obvious to him as it was to her? It was seriously tempting to spin the car around and go back to ask him outright, but the instant she considered it, Catlin thought again. How desperate would she look then? If she went back and kicked up a dust storm over something that might well have been inevitable in her own mind only, he’d be convinced she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. It was less than a week ago he’d found her in the middle of taking a shortcut to the pavement via the rooftop. He’d be left in no doubt she was a crazy if she went back demanding he kiss her at once! And perhaps what she had taken to be a romantic interest was nothing more on his part than concern for her wellbeing after the rooftop drama and she was reading more into his intentions than there was.
Of course, coming up with a rational explanation for what had happened did not improve Catlin’s mood or diminish her annoyance one bit and she had barely calmed down by the time she arrived back in her apartment. Inside, she caught an unwelcome glimpse of herself in the mirror. No wonder Ben had retreated with haste before they made contact! She was a wreck. Her hair, buffeted by the elements had reverted to its pre-straightened state of waves and curls, many of which had fled the teeth of her hair-clip and jutted out at every conceivable angle. What little make-up she had put on that morning had faded to the point of invisibility. Catlin forced herself to stand in front of the reflected image and examined its features carefully.
Her eyes were a rare shade of Celtic green, the one trait she had inherited from the Irish side of the family and which had the fortune of being the one solitary feature she truly liked, but they were out of place alongside the darker skin tone and near black hair she had come to possess in a throwback to the Spanish blood which was mixed in somewhere in the distant past. Individually there was nothing wrong with any of them, but together they combined to create a monstrous vision.
“God, you are one ugly woman,” Catlin told the reflection. “What were you doing even considering there might be a chance that a guy like him would be interested in you in any way other than as a friend?” It was a justified remark. Not one of her previous boyfriends had been drawn to her because of her ‘stunning looks’. There had been no instant attraction or love at first sight. They had got to know her over a period of weeks and months and found she was clever, funny, kind and had a good heart. The trouble was no-one could see those attributes, they had to be discovered with the passage of time and therefore most people were left under the impression some half-human creature had just been introduced to them upon meeting her for the first time. Had she not been told more than once she was the girl beer goggles had been invented for?
The problem Catlin had was that it was not merely her own vanity, pride, or a potential date that was at stake this time. She liked Ben, really liked him, and his being in her life, however briefly it might turn out to be for. She did n
ot want to jeopardise their newly started friendship for the sake of her own romantic delusions. She made her decision there and then. However hard it might be for her, she was going to put a stop to her flirting, unintentional or otherwise. She’d not been looking for a relationship, let alone one that would have to be held over a long distance once Ben went back to wherever it was he came from. Like everything she wanted, it had been a daydream, with no more substance to it than a cobweb. She would have to find a way to be happy to have him as a friend, a true friend, something she was rather lacking. So, should they happen to bump into each other for a third time, Catlin told herself she was going to be the very essence of the word ‘platonic’.
Kicking off her boots, Catlin unbundled her tangled bird’s nest of a hairstyle and made for the shower, deliberately ignoring the flashing light on the answerphone, which tried its hardest to gain her attention. It could wait whatever it was. She wanted to rinse away the dust and dirt accumulated on her walk from her hair and body and with it wash away any remaining illusions of what might have been between her and Ben.
Chapter Four
Her shower was so delightfully refreshing that Catlin took longer than usual pampering herself under it. As she washed her hair she visualised the daydreams of her and Ben as a couple around her, being crushed as she dismissed then one by one, rendering them to dust before rinsing the whole lot down the drain. It was good therapy, a method she had used on more than one occasion and as hard as it was initially to accept that something you wanted so much was never going to be, the practise did help – with one door firmly shut it was easier to take the one that remained open. She might be bothered by a twinge of ‘if only’ from time to time, her feelings for Ben being the strongest she had ever experienced, but that was her problem. She felt things far too deeply, cared too much and loved to intensely, but this way she would at least be able to keep his friendship and having him in her life one way or another was better to not having him there at all. The result of her compromise was that by the end of her water tank draining shower Catlin’s mood was brighter.
She got dressed but decided to leave her hair to dry naturally with the evening being as warm as it was. She picked up the book she had been endeavouring to read for more than a fortnight off her bedside table and went on through to the lounge, thinking about what she was going to have for her dinner. She screamed, loudly too, upon entering the series of open plan rooms, jumping a fair few feet backwards as she did so.
“In the name of Heaven!” she gasped, her heart racing at three times its normal rate. “Where the bloody hell did you materialise from?” she shouted at Ben who was waiting by the dining table.
The shock of unexpectedly finding a man, albeit one she was familiar with, in her apartment subsided and gave way to embarrassment at the extremely hysterical scream she’d given before turning to relief and laughter, mainly because Ben, who had been obviously startled by her yell and jumped almost as much as Catlin had, was close to tears, finding their reactions absolutely hilarious.
“Does the Banshee you pinched that scream from realise what you’re doing with it? Did I startle you that much?”
“What do you think?” Catlin growled, hitting him with her book. “I thought I’d got burglars.”
“So did I, and you’re lucky not to have. Your door was wide open when I arrived, hence my having been able to get in.”
“Strange. I’m sure I shut it behind me.”
“Probably didn’t quite catch and a draught from one of the windows was enough to swing it open.” There was no other explanation Catlin could think of, but it was the first time since she moved in that it had happened.
“I like the curls.” Catlin hadn’t a clue as to what Ben was on about until he pointed to his hair and she remembered the mass of damp locks which were hanging about her shoulders. “They suit you.”
“Wait until they dry out – it’s more frizz than waves then.”
Catlin crossed into the kitchen, dropping her book on the table as she passed by.
“It’s nice to see you again and all, but what are you doing here?”
“You did say to call by if I found myself at a loose end, but if I’m bothering you…”
“Did I say so? It’s just that I’d have thought you’d have had infinitely more exciting things to do with your evenings than waste them here. Are you hungry? I’m about to put something in the oven.”
“No thanks. I ate a while ago.”
“Drink?”
“No, I’m good, but you go ahead.”
“Have no fear – I’m going to.” She rummaged about in the fridge and freezer, finally settling on a veggie burger. She wasn’t especially hungry, but if she left it any later she would pick at snacks for the rest of the night.
“You’re a veggie?” Ben asked peering over her shoulder, and chewing on a leaf of fresh mint he had helped himself to from the herbs she grew in a window box. His being so very close sent a ripple of energy rushing through her every nerve.
“Yes, but don’t think for one minute about lecturing me on the error of my ways. I’ve heard all before.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m one myself as it happens.”
Another link in the chain of things they had in common. Catlin was beginning to think things were too good to be true. Could they really be that similar in so many ways? She set the burger cooking, shut the oven door and propped herself up on the unit next to it and folded her arms.
“Honestly? I find that hard to believe. You look like a man who enjoys a steak more than a nut cutlet.” Ben saw the suspicion in her mind and moved over to where she was, placed his arm on the counter top by hers, leaning in close.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Catlin reduced the gap separating them further, ignoring the voice which politely pointed out she was in danger of breaking her no flirting rule.
“Maybe. Or perhaps lying would be too strong a term. You might be trying to worm your way into my good books for purposes yet known to yourself alone and to try and gain my favour are not being, shall we say, entirely truthful on certain subjects.”
They were so close now Catlin could almost taste the mint on his breath as she breathed in. It was there again, the same desire for him to reach over and kiss her. The heat building between them was so consuming she began to waver in her already shaky conviction about where their relationship was heading. As if to aid her in keeping her promise, at that moment the picture of how she had looked after their walk popped into her mind’s eye and she wondered how much more of a mess she’d look without any make-up on and her hair bearing an uncanny resemblance to so many rat’s tails. With one side barricaded off by his arm, she slipped out of his reach by taking the other and got out of the danger zone. “Or do you have a better explanation for your apparently being into the very same things I am?”
Ben straightened up his stance, but remained fixed to the spot he was stood on.
“Well, I suppose it is possible I might be after getting into your good books. And it could be just as likely that I’m out to impress you, or of course, and I understand I’m playing the wild card here, it might be that I’m telling you the truth.” Catlin eyed him cautiously. She wasn’t used to people telling her the truth – it happened so rarely. Ben returned the gesture – putting on a faux expression of careful scrutiny, which was deliberately comical, but Catlin managed to keep her poise and did not crack.
“Wow! So serious,” Ben whistled when a minute had gone by without a reaction. “Remind me never to play cards with you. Okay, I’ll make it easy for you shall I? Anything I have said to you so far is true, and while the fact we have so many likes and dislikes in common is suspicious to you, to me it is more serendipitous.”
“Big word,” Catlin replied, but Ben had broken down her last reservations and she too smiled. “I guess I’ll have to take your word. For the time being, but be warned – I’m on to you and will be watching your every move.”
“Lucky me,” Ben te
ased, giving her a wink. Catlin rolled her eyes in resignation.
“Go sit down, before I change my mind about asking you to stay.”
“You’ve not asked me yet.”
“No, and if you don’t get out of my way the only thing I will be doing is showing you the door.”
“If you think it’s that easy to get rid of me, you’re going to be disappointed.”
Placing her hands on his shoulders, Catlin did her best to shove Ben out of the kitchen and into the lounge, but he resisted, using his full weight to push back against her meaning they could not move until he permitted it.
“Look at this,” he muttered as, inch by inch, they slowly worked their way out of the kitchen, “I’ve barely met her and here she is using physical violence to make me do what she wants!”
“You wait, I’ll make you pay for this,” Catlin declared putting every ounce of strength into her next push.
Without warning, Ben gave up his resistance, sending the pair of them hurtling into the lounge where they tumbled into the sofa.
“Is that so? Sounds like a challenge to me. It’s fair I warn you, I take no prisoners and will fight back by any means at my disposal.”
“No, stop it. No don’t,” Catlin squealed amid fits of the giggles. Ben had found her weak spot – being tickled. No matter how she tried to disentangle herself from his hold escape was impossible so long as his fingers were at work. By the time she could stand it no more and begged for a truce she was exhausted.
“I’ll agree to a ceasefire on the condition you say you believe everything I’ve told you so far.” She didn’t have the strength to refuse and gazed up at him as he sat above her.
“Deal. I believe you.” The muscles around her ribcage ached and she stretched out to work the kinks knots out of them.
“Blimey, who needs a gym membership with a workout like that available?”
Remember Me Page 3