Fuck, not just yet.
Then I realise I’m about to absently stroke his hand with my thumb, and I snatch my hand away so quickly Art starts in surprise.
‘Sorry!’ I rub my nose. ‘I thought I was going to sneeze.’
‘Oh right.’ Art folds his arms and leans back against the tree. ‘I suppose we should head back to the office.’
‘Well, we’ve got a lot of work to do.’ But neither of us moves. I look over at theNorthsidelot. They’re shooting the studio scenes today, so the lot is more or less empty. I nod in the direction of the hospital.
‘If all goes well, we’ll be in there with Honoria on Friday,’ I say.
‘She’d better behave herself,’ says Art.
‘Of course she will!’ I say. ‘Honoria Quigley’s a total pro.’
‘Yeah, well, people can surprise you,’ says Art. ‘Pros don’t always behave professionally on set.’
‘Come on, Art, that’s not fair.’ I don’t like him suggesting Honoria might be a diva, especially when the crew made it clear she was a delight. ‘Just because Sco—’ I realise what I’m saying and abruptly shut up.
‘Just because what?’ says Art.
‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Forget I said anything.’
‘No, go on,’ he says. ‘What were you going to say? Sco-what?’
Fuck, he must know I know. ‘Scott Stagg.’
Art’s face is unreadable. ‘What about him?’
Oh God, I can’t stop now. ‘I … I heard what happened withyou and him in LA,’ I say, ‘from a mutual acquaintance. They assumed I already knew,’ I add quickly. ‘I wasn’t, like, fishing for info about you or anything.’
‘Oh right.’ Art’s gaze is fixed on theNorthsideset.
‘It’s all true, isn’t it?’ I say, when it’s clear Art’s not going to elaborate. ‘About him … breaking your nose? And getting you fired? And … and blacklisted?’
Art lets out a long breath and finally says, ‘Yep. All true.’
‘Oh shit, Art,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thanks.’ Art doesn’t look at me. ‘Ah well. It is what it is.’
Neither of us says anything for a moment and then I ask the question I’ve been wondering about ever since Sinéad told me. ‘Do you … do you regret it? Standing up to him like that?’
‘Well,’ says Art, ‘when I did it I didn’t know I was destroying my career.’
‘And would you have done it if youhadknown?’
There’s a long pause and then Art says, ‘The fact that I had to think about this shows what a terrible person I am.’
‘So,’ I say, ‘what’s the answer?’
‘Yeah, I suppose I would have,’ says Art. ‘I mean, I know I couldn’t live with myself knowing I let him torment that intern to save my own skin.’
‘I’m fairly sure that means you’renota terrible person,’ I say.
‘It might mean I’m an idiot.’ He gives me a wry smile. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s how my ex saw it.’
‘Did she work in the business too?’ I feel a pang of jealousy I know is ridiculous, jealousy of some glamorous American ex I’ve never seen.