A Minor Indiscretion (38 page)

O
rla came out of her inner sanctum, leading Harrison Ford into the main office. She shook his hand. “I'm really pleased you're on board,” she said earnestly.

Neil was surprised how much the actor looked like Indiana Jones in real life. Though not quite as dirty. Or as sweaty. And he was wearing a white linen jacket, not scruffy leather.

“I'm delighted,” he drawled.

“We'll set up the filming in Prague. I guess we'll be in Europe for about a month,” Orla said.

“Great.” Harrison is clearly unfazed. But then, a man who has wrestled snakes and Germans with his bare hands is unlikely to be stressed by a mere trip abroad.

Orla strode across the room, happy to be calling the shots. Neil smiled benevolently. “This is my partner,” she said, placing a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. “Neil Kingston.”

“Hi.” Neil held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Harrison answered, and nearly crushed his knuckles with his firm grip.

“My brother worked with you years ago,” Neil said. “On
Raiders.
He was in Special Effects.”

Harrison looked decidedly blank.

Neil shrugged it off. “You probably won't remember him.”

“Not Ed?” Harrison said, his million-dollar, mega-star smile widening.

Neil laughed. “Yes.”

“Ed Kingston?” Harrison's eyes widened. “You're Ed Kingston's brother?”

Neil laughed more nervously. “Yes.”

“He's a great guy! I loved working with him. We were like brothers.”

“Really.” Neil thought his voice sounded sickly.

“How is he?”

Neil shrugged. Never, ever again would he take the piss out of Ed for telling Harrison Ford stories, and he would apologize, just as soon as he could, for ever doing so. “He's fine.”

“Call him,” Harrison insisted. “Let's call him.”

“Now?”

“Why not?” Harrison said. “What time is it in England?”

Neil looked at his watch. “It's about tea time.”

“Tea time?” Harrison guffawed. “You guys crack me up. Tea time! So call him. Let's interrupt his tea.”

Neil looked at Orla for approval.

“Call him,” she said.

Harrison clapped his hands together in excitement. “Boy, would I like to shoot the breeze with Ed again.”

This, Neil couldn't wait to hear.

Harrison turned to Orla. “Do you know Ed?”

“Well…” Orla said.

“Ed's a great guy. Can't we get him on this shoot?”

Orla looked at Neil. “Well…”

Neil picked up the phone.

 

Ed heard the phone ringing from the garden. He put down his glass and kissed Ali on the cheek. “Back in a mo.”

He went into the cool of the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Ed Kingston.”

“Hey, bro,” Neil said. “It's me.”

“Neil.” Ed settled himself on the nearest stool. “How's it going?”

“Fine, fine.”

“And Orla?”

“Fine, fine,” Neil said impatiently. “Ed, listen. You'll never guess who I've got here who wants to talk to you!”

“Who?” Ed said, scanning the calendar. Maybe they could go out and visit Neil later in the year, if Ali felt up to a long flight. It was worth thinking about.

“Here,” Neil said. “I'll pass him over.”

“Hi, Ed,” a deep voice drawled. “It's Harrison Ford here. How're you doing?”

Ed smiled to himself. All his dreams of Harrison Ford and taking Hollywood by storm had long since evaporated and, surprisingly, he had never felt more content. It would be him and Ali from now on, and nothing else mattered. “Yes. Very funny, Neil. Ha, bloody ha.” And with a chuckle, Ed hung up.

He went back out into the garden grinning to himself and sat down beside Ali. She was looking better all the time, stronger, happier. He hoped that all of their bad times would be behind them and that everything in the garden would be rosy once again.

She put her book down and glanced up at him over the top of her sunglasses. “Who was that?” she asked.

He squeezed her hand tightly. “No one,” he said. “No one at all.”