Eventually, the horses slowed, as did the carousel itself, and a booming voice asked them to exit on the left. Chloe wondered how there could be a “left” when they were on a giant circle, but she climbed off her horse and with Dexter under her arm, followed the others, including Archer.
Back on the thoroughfare, she noticed that the sun was nowhere to be seen and the milky light of twilight coloured the sky with a pale-yellow merging into a paler pink.
She stopped walking and grinned at Archer. “That was fun. I can’t remember the last time I went on a merry-go-round.” She earned a kiss for her enthusiasm and he slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close as they started walking again.
“Would you like to head back to the hotel now?” he asked, almost having to shout. Screams punctuated the air above them, and Chloe looked up to see a whirligig of a contraption, with people being flung from here to there in an instant. It looked like a blast.
Chloe tore her eyes away and looked up at Archer. Another ride, or more time alone with him? Maybe they could climb into that giant tub together? It was an easy answer. “Let’s go back,” she said.
“Oh, my god, are you Archer Tate?!”
The question came from a group of five young women, although Chloe would have been hard-pressed to identify which one had said it. They all looked at him expectantly, with varying degrees of “gobsmackedness”.
“Uh, yes, hello.” Archer nodded and smiled politely. Chloe watched, mesmerised, as he posed for photos, signed random pieces of paper, fielded inane questions, and let them fawn over him. He was so amenable that the entire encounter was wrapped up in a handful of minutes. It was another taste of what life was like with someone as famous as Archer. Although, this was far more pleasant than being ambushed by his ex or being photographed kissing.
“You are very gracious,” she said when they were on their way again and out of earshot of the giggling gaggle.
“It’s part of the job—be kind, say hello, take some pictures. I’d rather be like that than the brooding, surly film star.”
“Sure, but I thought you didn’t want to be recognised today.” Before leaving the hotel, they had donned what Archer called “light disguises”. They both wore baseball caps, the peaks pulled low, and Archer wore a pair of thick-rimmed prop glasses.
“True, but …” He sighed, his shoulders raising in a shrug.
Chloe finished the thought. “A disguise only goes so far.”
“Exactly. It will work on most people and, honestly, in London, you can hardly swing a dead cat without seeing someone famous, so a lot of people are blasé if they notice me. But, unless I want to spend hours in the makeup chair before I pop down to Tesco for milk, it’s just part and parcel really.”
“Mmm, I get it.” Intellectually, she did, in any case. It was still a lot to comprehend, his level of fame and how it affected his everyday life, how it might affect her everyday life. But there was something else. “You know, all that aside …” He glanced at her inquisitively. “I’ve worked with quite a few celebrities, and the way you were with those girls … well, you’re more gracious than most.”
“Honestly—and I truly believe this—if it weren’t for the people who buy tickets to my films or my plays, I wouldn’t be ‘Archer Tate’. I wouldn’t have this incredible career, so when I meet them, they deserve my kindness.”
“You enjoy that aspect of your fame, then?” she asked, somewhat perplexed.
“Being mobbed in public?” She looked up to see that he was joking.
“Well, when you put it like that …”
“I enjoy meeting people who like my work. Some fans, probably that group of girls, can be a little fixated on who they think Archer Tate is, as opposed to liking me, or my performances, but, as I said, it’s part and parcel, isn’t it?”
“I honestly wouldn’t know.”
He gave a grunt of a laugh. “Quite right, but what I mean is, I consider it a privilege to do what I love for a living, so the aspects of my job that I don’t particularly enjoy—the intrusions on my privacy, especially—they are the price to pay. Sometimes, I wish I could do what Harry and Meghan did; although, their spotlight is far brighter than mine. I mean, I’ve only been noticed what, a handful of times since we got here? They couldn’t even come here.”
“Sorry, do you mean Prince Harry and his wife, Meghan?”
“The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, yes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “So, do you know them, or just know of them?”
“Harry and I are quite good friends, actually. After I shot Fallen Soldier, I got involved in the Invictus Games Foundation—I’m a patron—and he and I hit it off. He’s a brilliant bloke, great sense of humour, and Meghan is a truly gorgeous person. I felt terrible for them with everything they went through, all that scrutiny and mistreatment. Sadly, I haven’t seen them in forever, not since they moved to America. Ironic, really, since much of my work’s there.”
Chloe, faced with another facet of Archer’s surreal life, shook her head. She could barely wrap her brain around how much her life would change if she and Archer became a proper couple.
Just as they got to the exit of the fair, Archer asked, “Shall I telephone for the car?” Chloe, preoccupied, nodded her reply, her mind going a million miles an hour as she contemplated becoming besties with Meghan Markle. Jules and Lucy would understand, right?
She was called back to reality when Archer pocketed the phone, then grabbed both her hands and pulled her close. With
