My Week with Marilyn
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MY WEEK WITH MARILYN

'Stop the car, Roger,’ I said. ‘Let’s get out and think. There’s no one around. Let’s have a little stroll in the fresh air.’


Roger drew in to the side of the road and Marilyn and I got out. She still had hold of my arm, I noticed.


‘I’ll stay here on guard,’ said Roger. ‘Why don’t you two walk down to that little stream and cool off ?’


‘Great idea,’ said Marilyn, releasing her grip and bending down to pull off her shoes. She was wearing a short white wool dress instead of her usual trousers, and she presented, as she must well have been aware, an extremely attractive rear end.


‘Come on, Colin.’ She swayed off down the slope, her bare feet crinkling the grass. ‘Don’t be stuffy.Take your shoes off. It’s great.’


By the time we reached the stream, we were out of breath and very hot, and it seemed a good idea to wade straight in. ‘I think this is the most lovely thing I’ve ever felt in my life,’ said Marilyn, serious at last. ‘What do you think, Colin? Can’t you feel it?’ She held out both her hands and grasped mine. ‘I feel so alive. For the first time I feel like I was part of nature. Can’t you feel it, Colin? I’m sure you can feel it too.’


Frankly, I felt as if I was going to drown, although the water was only two inches deep.


‘I can feel it, Marilyn,’ I mumbled.


But she wasn’t listening to me.


‘Why do I take all those pills? Why do I worry about what all those men think? Why do I let myself get pushed around? This is how I ought to feel, every day of my life. This is the real me . . . isn’t it, Colin?’


My feet had grown cold by now, and I led her to the bank and sat down.


‘No, Marilyn. You can’t runaway. Let’s just have a super fun day, a day that we will never forget, and then we must go back to real life.’


‘Only one day?’


‘Well . . . perhaps a weekend?’


‘Or a week?’


‘We’ll see.’


Copyright © 2011 by Weinstein Publishing (Weinstein Books)