7 Pizza?
7
Pizza?
Isabella
There’s a handsome, naked man in my bathroom.
I know, of all the things I could think of, this shouldn’t be first on the list. But it is. Because Benjamin is really handsome and he’s naked, “without undergarments” as he says, taking a bath a few metres away from me.
I consider today a small victory. The poor chap freaked out every five seconds, but with an otherworldly elegance. I wonder if he’s ever sat crooked before in his life, or if he’s ever changed the tone of his voice. But despite everything, this noble, English behaviour baffles me.
Because every second I spend next to him, it feels like Benjamin is telling me the truth.
I leave Duke on the floor and go into the kitchen. I had a shower earlier before I went to pick him up, so I can relax. I give up on preparing anything; I’m too tired for that. I’m no whiz in the kitchen; after recent events, even less so. I decide to order a pizza. There probably weren’t any pizzas in 1817, but I doubt Benjamin won’t like it. A soft drink should also do the trick. I want to watch closely when he tries a Coke for the first time.
Wow, here I am believing that this is the first time the guy is going to try this drink. See how confused I am? I need to sort myself out.
While I wait for the pizza to arrive, I think about my father and the sadness I heard in his voice. His grandfather must really be ill, from what I understand. I also remember that I have to call my mum and answer the messages from my sister and Cinthia, who wanted to know how I was. I thought it best not to take my eyes off Benjamin while we were in the street. Firstly because it was nice to look at him. But also, what if I lost the man? It was better not to get distracted on my phone.
I pull it out of my pocket now and see a new notification from my friend.
Cinthia: Darling, I’m home. How are things going over there?
Cinthia: Oh, I left a piece of chocolate cake in the fridge – you have to eat it or it’ll spoil.
I sit on the sofa, typing.
Me: Hi, hun. I’m sorry I didn’t answer – it was a bit rushed. Don’t worry, I will eat it. How are you? Did you get there OK?
She comes online a few moments later.
Cinthia: I’m tired, but fine. I’ll tidy up tomorrow; today I’m going to relax. What about your unknown subject? Have you managed to find out anything about him?
I could tell you the whole story, about him thinking he’s from the nineteenth century, about having nowhere to go, but that would mean saying that he’s a guest here in the flat, and that I’m crazy.
Both things are true, but I prefer to avoid the sermon.
Me: I managed to sort it out. Don’t worry about it.
I’m not exactly lying. Although I don’t know anything about him yet, things are moving along, so… I can consider this a kind of resolution.
Cinthia: Good. I’m going to sleep because my eyes are closing. We’ll talk tomorrow.
Me: OK. Sleep well and enjoy France. Eat lots of sweets for me.
Cinthia: Lol. You got it. Kiss. I’ll speak to you soon.
The pang of guilt is present. I don’t feel right hiding all this from her, but something tells me to. I’m not used to having secrets. I wear my heart on my sleeve; I’ve never had any reason to keep anything to myself. The most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me was being dumped for someone else. Benjamin, however, is not like that.
He’s… different. Not just because of the situation, but because of his manner too. Maybe it’s my fascination with lords and gentlemen, but the guy, from what I’ve seen so far, is perfect. Kind, polite, and clearly concerned about not bothering me.
It’s nice to have someone care about me for a change. I don’t like to complain, but this time alone has made me realise that I had been dating – for over a year – a guy who was… not so great . Matheus was decent, hard-working, and studied to get good enough grades to pass his exams, but that’s it. He wasn’t the type to give you the runaround, but neither to ask about your great-grandfather’s health. He didn’t look at me with attention or interest. Sometimes, he didn’t even seem to hear me.
I instantly feel melancholic. Matheus, the arsehole boy, is in the past. As for Benjamin, “the magic man”, what’s done is done. Then, if necessary, I’ll bear the consequences. I’m about to type a message to my sister Laura when I hear a strange noise in the bathroom. With a frown, I go over, stopping in front of the closed door.
“Your Grace?” I knock on the door. Duke lets out a low bark, approaching happily. “Not you, sweetheart. Ben?” I correct myself.
“Yes?” the muffled baritone voice replies.
“Are you alright?”
A second of silence.
“Yes. I…” He hesitates. “I tried to empty the bath, but the drain won’t come out.”
I let out a little laugh. If he thinks he’s a duke, he must imagine that he has servants even to dress him. Let’s not forget that he asked me to prepare his bath. So here he is, struggling to empty it. Cute.
“Are you dressed? I can show you how to empty it if you let me in.”
The handle turns and the door opens. I almost lose my breath at what I see.
Unfortunately, Benjamin doesn’t have a towel tied around his waist, showing off his muscular body. The scriptwriter in my life failed miserably in this scene. He has already put on the pyjamas I bought him: light-grey joggers and a basic white T-shirt. However… the fabric is glued tightly to his strong chest. Tight enough that I can see he has a six pack. A duke from the past with a six pack.
Oh my God, that’s delicious. I wouldn’t mind dressing that little body.
“Bella?” The question makes me look away from him. I’m still mesmerised. His dark hair is damp, wet, and messy. Beautiful. I conclude that Benjamin is hot no matter the era, from the Stone Age to the year 3000.
“Yes, I’ll show you.” I stand next to the bath. “Just turn here.”
Benjamin nods as the water begins to flow down the drain. “Where can I hang this?” He shows me the towel.
“Leave it to me.” I take the towel and leave the bathroom, and he follows me. “Are you hungry? I ordered us some pizza.”
“Pizza?” I hear the confused voice behind me.
“Yes, it’s a kind of bread with cheese and pepper…” I remember that perhaps he has no idea what pepperoni is. “It’s an Italian delicacy. Very tasty,” I complete, hanging the towel on the rail near the kitchen.
“If you say it’s tasty, I’ll believe you.”
I look at him, and Benjamin is standing in the middle of the room, his arms folded behind his back. Very formal.
“You can sit down.” I wave my hand. “Make yourself at home.”
“You first, miss.”
I obey because I want to put him at ease. And because my little dreamy side likes to be treated like this, with such kindness. Benjamin settles into the armchair opposite the sofa. Duke comes up to him, wagging his furry tail. Ben smiles as he picks him up.
Wow, how cute is this man holding my little ball of fur.
“Do you like dogs?” I ask.
“A lot. I like animals in general.”
“Do you have a pet back home?”
“My sister had a cat, but it died a few years ago. He was rather skittish, and…”
The sound of the intercom makes Benjamin stop talking.
“The pizza.” I stand up. “Just a moment.”
A few minutes pass before I return to the living room after picking up the pizza from the delivery man. As soon as I enter the room, Benjamin puts Duke on the floor and stands up, nodding slightly.
A true lord, no doubt about it.
“Would you like to try it with a soft drink? It’s a fizzy juice.”
He thinks for a moment. “Do you recommend it?”
I nod. “I really like it.”
“Very well, I accept. Thank you very much.”
I go to the kitchen, get two cans of Coke Zero, two glasses, and the paper napkins. “If you’re going to eat pizza, you have to eat it with your hands.”
I settle into my seat and Benjamin sits down too. I serve the pizza to him, and he analyses the slice with a frown.
“It smells good.” He takes a bite. As he chews, his expression changes. It’s clear that he enjoys the pizza.
“Well?” I ask, eating a piece too.
“Very good. Simple and tasty.” He keeps eating.
“Now take a sip of Coke.” I open the can and pour him a glass.
Benjamin is still chewing as he stares at the bubbling liquid. “Fascinating…” He grabs the glass and smells the drink. “Sweet, isn’t it?”
I nod, watching Benjamin drink his Coke without even blinking.
He swallows and grimaces. “That’s different…”
“Good different?”
He looks at me, one corner of his lip lifting. “Good different. I was right to trust you.”
I wasn’t expecting this phrase, and I know he’s referring to food, but it touches me. Because not only am I trusting him not to be dangerous, but Benjamin is also trusting me with his difficult dilemmas. It’s very rewarding to know that I am making a difference in someone’s life. To be appreciated, even for a meal suggestion.
We eat in silence for a few minutes. I realise that Benjamin is deep in thought, a little lost.
“Do you want to talk?” I suggest, as soon as I’ve finished eating. “Tell me about yourself, about what you…” think , “you remember.”
He wipes his mouth with a napkin, nodding. “Well, I don’t want to bother you, but I don’t mind telling you who I am.”
And I don’t mind listening to him. “Tell me about it.”
“I’m the second son. My twin brother, Barney, was the eldest, the heir to the title. Our mother died when my younger sister, Abigail, was three. Our father was a serious man but loving in his own way.” There’s a lot of sadness in his words. An intriguing nostalgic tone. Benjamin continues: “My brother went to fight in the war against Napoleon. I imagine you know about that period.”
I agree. I’ve studied so much about the Napoleonic Wars that I could write a book about it. “Yes, I know enough.”
“He died on the battlefield. My father died not long after him, having sunk into sadness. When they’d both gone, it was just me and my sister. Now… now Abigail is alone.”
My heart feels like it’s tied up with string. My God, the way Benjamin tells things seems so true. Honest. Where is his subconscious getting all this drama from?
This also explains his despair when he mentioned his sister earlier. We’re talking about 1817, a time when women were completely helpless. Thinking about Abigail, even though I don’t know her, fills me with anguish. Thankfully, this story isn’t real. Right?
“Why did your brother go to fight?” I ask.
“Barney was different from me,” Ben continues. “Responsible, honourable. The best man I’ve ever known.”
“You’re honourable, Ben. All I’ve seen since I met you is honour.”
Which is true. Considering that he thinks he’s in the wrong century, Benjamin hasn’t raised his voice or exploded around me once since he opened his eyes in hospital. Matheus blew up at me for much less. I chase the thought away. I don’t want to think about Matheus.
“I’ve become honourable, Bella.” Ben shrugs. “If we can become that. I was a bon vivant, an irresponsible libertine. Barney was honour itself. He went to war proud, and I’m sure he died that way too. After I took over the title, I changed because I thought he deserved such consideration.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to ignore the images my mind wants to form when I think of him as a rake.
“I started acting like a duke, like a responsible man. I kept some things from my life before, but the fun, the nights of pleasure… I didn’t take part in that anymore. I didn’t even have time, really. My sister suffered their loss a lot. It was… difficult. Abigail spent months in bed.”
Depressed, probably. And how could she not be, after losing her father and brother?
“You’re close, then.”
Benjamin nods. “Very. It’s funny because I only realised it when I lost my brother and father.”
I know what it’s like. I’d never stopped to think about it until I found myself far away from everyone on an island on the other side of the world.
“I’m sorry, Ben. You’ve been through a lot.”
He takes a deep breath, trying to smile.
“What about you? So far, we’ve only talked about me.”
I tell him about my family, about how my parents split up, and about my mum’s second marriage. When Benjamin asks me why I decided to come to London, I don’t reveal my break-up with Matheus. That would definitely spoil our conversation. But I do tell him about Laura and her noble Canadian husband, about how my sister unexpectedly fell in love with the man she met in a coffee shop. Benjamin finds it curious and says he’s friends with a guy who had a baroness cousin in Quebec, in the 1800s, of course. It’s funny how he has a very solid background for this mental confusion. There are no gaps or holes in the stories he tells me; everything is perfectly aligned.
Absolutely easy to believe.
I’m not sure how long we talk. I know I could spend hours here, listening to his words, even if they are fantasy. A fantasy that seems more real than anything I’ve ever heard.
“You must be exhausted,” I say when Benjamin can’t help yawning. “Do you want to lie down?”
He apologises and nods, running his hand through his already dry hair. Apologising for yawning… my God.
“I think it’s a good idea,” he says.
Looking at him like this, in his normal clothes and relaxed, I would never have said that he was the same madman I hit yesterday.
“Is it OK for you to sleep in the living room? My friend isn’t here, but I think it’s unfair to offer her bed since she doesn’t know you’re here.”
“She doesn’t know?” He frowns. “You didn’t tell her?”
I shake my head. “No, because I was afraid that she wouldn’t agree. Let’s face it, we don’t know each other, and you could be a murderer or an abuser.”
He lets out a laugh. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him laugh. I hope this happens more often.
“You’re right, miss. I apologise for you having to lie.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her later.” I stand up. “I’ll get a pillow and a blanket.” I return a few moments later and hand him his things. “You know how to cover yourself, don’t you?” I ask, as the man doesn’t seem independent.
“Yes. Thank you.” Benjamin nods again, and I look at Duke, standing quietly at the foot of the sofa.
“Is Your Grace coming with me or staying with Your Grace?” I ask him.
The puppy doesn’t even move.
“Come on, even he can’t resist a duke,” I joke, and Benjamin laughs again. Our gazes meet and something jumps in my chest. Deliciously disturbing. “Good night, Ben. Sleep well.”
I’m halfway down the corridor when I hear a thick voice.
“Bella?” he calls me, and I turn round again.
“Yes.”
Benjamin sighs, before saying, with heartbreaking honesty: “Thank you for helping me. I’m eternally in your debt.”
I’m suddenly emotional. “There’s no debt. I’m happy to help you, believe me.”
I leave him alone and lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about everything.
I know that some would say that I’m crazy for harbouring a stranger, that I’m reckless. That’s probably true, but I can’t help it. Knowing that he’s there, sleeping on the sofa, brings me nothing but peace of mind.
With a soft smile, I let my heavy eyes close and fall asleep peacefully. Helping Benjamin seems to me to be my best decision in the last few months.