Authors: Alison Kervin
He grabs me from behind as if to strangle me. 'You'll be sorry,' he growls. 'I'll teach you to take the mickey out of me.' Just as I start to fear that he might actually start to wrestle with me, he tickles me playfully and wraps his arms around me.
'I hope you don't really think I'm like that,' he says. 'You do know that my two best friends hang out at baseball games trying to get autographs. Deeves spent the whole of last summer selling hot dogs at the Yankees games so he could watch 'em all without paying.'
'Did he?' I ask. 'Why didn't you just buy him a season ticket?'
'Because the man has pride,' Rufus says, shaking his head. 'What can you do? Have to say I love him for it though. I reckon he must have been sneaking himself some free hot dogs somewhere along the line to make it all worthwhile.'
'You are friends with a sausage thief?' I suggest in mock horror.
'I fear so,' he retorts, sounding as British as he can. 'Now, I have an idea . . . an idea about how we might pass the time.'
'Yeah, I know what your idea of us passing the time involves, and it seems to necessitate me being naked and in bed!' I say light-heartedly.
'Not necessarily in bed,' he says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 'But definitely naked.'
'Mmmm . . . thought as much,' I say, rubbing my cheek affectionately against his.
'But I had another notion today,' he says. 'Oh yes, believe it or not I do have thoughts about you that don't involve you taking all your clothes off.'
'My God!' I feign concern and look deep into his eyes. 'Are you unwell?'
'Nope.' He pulls me in close to him. I love the way he does that: squeezes me so tightly that I can barely breathe and end up sucking in light raspy breaths – it makes me feel all wrapped up and protected. When he hugs me like that I feel that no harm can come to me.
'I think we should go shopping,' he suggests. 'I'd like to go and buy you the necklace to match it.'
'Match what?'
'Oh, didn't I mention?' he says mischievously. 'I've bought you a bangle.'
'A bangle? Oooooooo.'
There are times when living with Rufus is a bit like starring alongside Rufus in one of his films. And, I tell you, I know all about Rufus's films. From the rom coms to the epics, the war films to the horror films – he's been in so many different types of films; that's what makes him so special as an actor (and the fact that he's drop dead gorgeous). In the early days of our courtship, I seemed to spend all the time I wasn't getting ready to see him, watching his films. I could quote most of the lines from
Tarzan II
by the time our third date came along.
'If you come with me, I will love you for ever.' (Him).
'I will, Tarzan. I will.' (Some dumb blonde actress playing Jane).
'Then come, now. I take you away.' (Him again).
When he's not running around in a loincloth or winning an Oscar for his portrayal of a killer, he's playing the dashing hero with whom everyone falls in love. The charm that lights up the screen and sends millions of teenager girls into swoons and sighs is as evident off the screen as it is on it.
He pulls out a bag and hands it to me. Inside there's a Tiffany's box. Oh my God. 'Thank you,' I say, smiling up at him as I pull the turquoise ribbon off and watch it fall softly and gracefully to the floor. Even the disposable packaging is stylish on this gift. I lift the lid and stand back in sheer delight and amazement. The bangle has three diamonds on it – in a row . . . exactly like my beautiful, favourite jewellery pot. 'It's exactly the same!!' I say, genuinely awe-struck by the beauty of the piece of jewellery. 'I can't believe it.'
'Neither could I when I saw it,' says Rufus, grinning from ear to ear. 'I'm glad you like it.'
'I do, I do,' I say, trying to fix it around my wrist as he pulls me into his arms again.
'They have matching necklaces,' he says, squeezing me close to him. 'I ordered one and it's in the store. I was going to ask Christine to collect it, but why don't we go?'
'Can we do that?' I'm aware that going anywhere with Rufus demands an operation of military-style proportions and precision or the shop will be full of fans. 'Will we have to parachute in under the cover of darkness?'
'We can do it,' he says cautiously. 'And, if we get it right, probably without parachutes. Henry can drive us and we'll go in by the back door.'
I sit back and watch as Rufus briefs Christine in that gentle way of his, making her feel like the only girl in the world as he asks her to call ahead to the manager and request that the shop be shut when we arrive.
'Thank you,' I say. 'You're very thoughtful.'
'It's my pleasure,' says Rufus, taking my face in his hands. 'I love you.'
'I love you too.'
I wish I could reciprocate in some way; I wish I could buy Rufus something that he would adore, and would make him go as mushy and adoring as I go when he buys things for me. But how? What could I buy that he couldn't afford to get himself two million of? When it comes to purchasing power, our relationship feels so unbalanced that I find it very difficult. He's only got to say in an interview, at a party, or anywhere else, that he quite likes the look of the new Burberry suits, and the entire winter menswear collection will turn up in seconds. What's the point of me saving up to buy him a tiepin when the manufacturers will give him every tiepin ever made?
'Ready?' We've arrived at the back door of Tiffany's in Bond Street. Rufus pulls his cap down and his collar up and looks around shiftily, as if he's off to hold up a bank or something. We go darting through the doors that swing open to greet us. Now this is something I've really noticed about Rufus's world: doors are being opened for me constantly. I can't remember the last time I deigned to do my own door opening. In fact, it's been so long I'm not sure I can remember what to do. Everywhere I go there's someone expecting me and swinging the door as I arrive in greeting. Like magic!
Rufus places the necklace around my neck and it hangs, sparkling wildly but elegantly, against my skin. I can't speak. I just stand, looking into the mirror, while the sales assistants coo and say 'gorgeous' while clearly looking at my boyfriend. I notice how he doesn't return their admiring glances though – ha! He keeps on looking at me, like he's absorbing me with his eyes, like there's no one else in the room. He may be the world's most adored film star, and – yes – I know there are women queuing up to be with him, but at times like this I just know,
know
, that he would never cheat on me.
If I'm honest, I knew by the second date with Rufus that I was falling in love. What I never expected was that he would fall in love with me. I wasn't alone in this view. My friends, Sophie in particular, warned me strongly against getting too close to the world's most sought-after man. They never said it, but what they were thinking was – it can't last . . . just think about how many beautiful women are throwing themselves at him. It can't possibly last. 'By all means go out with him,' they said. 'Have fun, have a good time, but don't fall in love with him.' But how could I not? Christ, there are teenage girls who've never met him who are head over heels in love with him. What choice did I have when he was wining and dining me and taking me dancing under the stars?
'Don't fall in love,' screamed Sophie, when I set out on our second date together, and I went out there and fell completely and hopelessly in love with him.
For our second date, we planned to go out for the day, and he wanted to take me somewhere very English.
'Leave it to me,' he said in his strong American accent.
'It'll be the Changing of the bloody Guard,' said Sophie. 'You know what Americans are like.'
'Or Kensington Palace because he'll want to show you where Princess Diana lived, because the Americans adore her, don't they?'
The 'guess where the American's going to take you on an English date' game became quite serious. When Rufus appeared at ten am that warm late summer morning, I'd been reliably assured by Soph and Mand that we were going to Buckingham Palace, Kensington Palace, Harrods, tea at the Ritz or to play croquet and watch cricket. I was quite excited by the time he arrived at the door.
Not knowing where we were going would normally have produced sartorial terror of cataclysmic proportions in me. If you don't know where you're going, how do you know what to wear? But with Rufus I'd kind of got used to the fact that nothing in my wardrobe was ever going to be appropriate for anything we ever did anyway, so it didn't really matter that I didn't know what we were doing – if you know what I mean. Just gave me an excuse for being wrongly dressed!
I jumped into the back of the car next to Rufus and he introduced me to Henry, his driver, who'd come over with him from America.
'He's been driving me for fifteen years,' said Rufus.
'And he's been driving me insane for just as long,' said Henry.
The two men joshed and took the mickey out of each other as the car wound through the streets of Twickenham, heading out of town. Out of town? What about tea at the Ritz? Did he not know where the Changing of the Guard took place?
'You have to tell me where we're going,' I said, as the car eased towards a beautiful bridge with boats and canoes sweeping along below. Henry pulled over and Rufus jumped out. He ran round to the back of the car and swung my door open for me. 'Welcome to Hampton Court,' he said.
I have to admit, I was amazed. The place is about twenty minutes from my flat and I'd never been there before. Rufus, on the other hand, seemed to know the place intimately. We walked through the old Tudor kitchens and down into the giant greenhouses housing the world's largest vine. 'How do they know?' he whispered at every new historical fact. 'Have they measured every vine in the world? I bet they just make this stuff up.'
'Spoken like a true American,' I retorted as we escaped through a small wooden door and out into the palace courtyard with a beautiful fountain in the middle.
'Make a wish,' said Rufus, digging into his pockets for coins. He handed me enough money to keep a family of six fed for a week and urged me to throw them. I tossed the coins into the air and watched them fall and splash into the sparkling water; pennies from heaven. 'OK, my turn.' He threw his money into the fountain and made a wish that nothing would change between us.
'I want us to stay like this for ever,' he said, wrapping his arms around me.
'Me too,' I said, smiling like I'd never smiled before.
'I want us to get to know each other and for us to get closer and closer, but most of all I want the special bond between us to stay like this.'
'Yes,' I replied, almost breathless with joy. 'I want to know everything about you too.'
'Me first,' he said with a big smile. 'Tell me . . . what is the naughtiest thing you've ever done? Go on; tell me something about yourself that I don't know.'
Oh shit.
'Go on. It can't be that bad,' he said, sensing my reluctance. 'Can it?'
'I got banned from driving for twelve months,' I said sheepishly.
'How fast were you going?' he asked.
'No, drink-driving. But I hadn't been drinking. Well, I had, but I didn't know I had. I mean, my drinks were spiked by this guy that Mandy was going out with. He didn't like the fact that I wasn't drinking and put loads of alcohol into this fruit punch and fed it to me all night. I drove home, was stopped by police and ended up getting banned. Luckily no one got hurt . . .'
Rufus was silent for a moment and then gave me a hug and a wry smile. 'Wow. I'm dating a convict,' he said. 'Did you have mugshots done and fingerprints taken and everything?'
'Oh yes. The whole works.'
'Poor thing. Right, come on. I know what'll cheer you up . . . I've saved the best till last. Come with me,' he said, taking my hand and whisking me away from the courtyard, past the maze, and out to a gorgeous rose garden. The smell as we approached was unbelievable, hanging in the air as the flowers smiled and basked in the afternoon sunshine.
The sun was shining. I was surrounded by beautiful roses. That's when I fell in love. Later I would call my friends and family and try to enthuse them about a rose garden in a palace on the banks of the river. I'd try to explain about the magical pull of the scents and the immediate sense of relaxation we'd both felt. I'd tell them about the smiling gardener called Frank who came over and said hello, resting wearily on his hoe as he admired his roses and grinned engagingly, telling Rufus it was so nice to see him again. 'It was paradise,' I'd sigh. There's no question that they all thought I'd gone mad.
Rufus led me past the benches dedicated by one devoted spouse to another to a bench with no dedication on it at all. 'This is my favourite bench,' he said, and I almost squealed out loud. A man with his favourite bench! Who'd have thought? 'I call it the bench with no name.' We sat holding hands in companionable silence for a few moments.
'So do you bring all your girls here?' I teased, fairly sure of the answer but I had to ask.
'You're the first and only.' He smiled back at me. 'You know I've always felt this was a very special place. But now it will be our special place. A place that only the two of us know about.'
We have a special place! Our place! All our own. And it's in a palace and it's full of roses! I looked up and saw butterflies playing beside us; fluttering their wings as if in courtship. The sentiments of the moment seemed to be reflected in the nature all around us.
'It's amazing! I love it. I love—' I broke off, scared of what I was in danger of revealing but Rufus kissed me again, giving me the courage to try. 'I mean . . . I think you should know I'm falling in love with you . . .'
'Good, because I feel exactly the same way.' He smiled. 'Only you should know what your getting yourself into, Kelly. My life is crazy. The press follow me most places. I have to guard my privacy where I can. I want to protect you from that craziness but once the press know we're together . . .' He paused. 'Once the press know we're together, life is going to get very difficult. Until you live through it, you have no idea how hard it is to cope with the constant intrusion.'