“To South Africa? Why? I’m just going to see my son.” She told him about the broken leg.
“It’s a long way to go, I thought maybe you’d like company and someone to protect you. I’d be happy to come along as a friend. I know Africa pretty well. I lived there for two years, in Mombasa for a year, and in Cape Town for the second year.” In truth, she would have taken Olympia if she was willing to go, but she would have hated it, and she had to start shooting her next film in a few days. And Fred was too old now to drag to South Africa. Boden had a good point. It might be smart to take a man with her, but she didn’t want to impose.
“I can manage on my own,” she assured Boden, more confidently than she felt.
“I’m sure you can. You’re a brave woman, Antonia.” He already knew that about her. “But maybe for once you don’t have to do everything hard alone.” It was a powerful statement, and the kind of thing Hamish would have said to her. It jarred her memory to a distant time when she heard his words, and their eyes met.
“Are you sure?” she asked him and he nodded.
“I’m ready to go if you want me. I don’t want to intrude but I’d like to help.”
“All right.” She wasn’t sure why she’d agreed, but she had liked working with him for the past months, and it might be good to have a man along. She hadn’t thought about that in years, but she was comfortable with him, and she was going halfway around the world to visit her son at a hospital in South Africa. It seemed smarter not to go alone.
They left the next morning for the long flight. He had a small rolling bag with him and she had a small suitcase to check in.
They spoke very little on the flight. It was early, and she was worried about Dash. And then she turned to Boden while they were having breakfast on the plane.
“It was nice of you to come. Going to Africa by myself probably wouldn’t have been smart.” She was used to doing everything alone, and had for years.
“Not anymore. I lived there almost twenty years ago, it was easier then.”
“It sounds like you’ve lived all over the place,” she chatted as they ate.
“My father worked for an oil company. We lived in some pretty cool places when I was a kid. India, Pakistan, Morocco, Kenya, Saudi Arabia. We spent a year in France before we went home. And I did a year in Florence when I was in college. And then my parents came back to New York, which seemed pretty dull.” He smiled at her.
“You said your brothers live in Montana. Were you from there originally?”
“No. They own a cattle ranch there together. That sounded even worse to me than New York.” He grinned. “I went to USC film school for grad school. Princeton before that. We all went there. My father did too. Family tradition. I wanted to direct movies all my life. I worked at some of the studios in L.A. after I came back from Africa. I’ve been in Canada for a couple of years. I just moved back to New York in time to get this job working on your movie. Blind luck.” He smiled at her and she felt at ease with him.
“Good luck for me too. My AD just retired before you came along.”
“I love the movie. You’ve done a great job with it.”
“It’s kind of a modern day Western. That’s different for me. I like trying new things.” It was about a woman in a man’s world, who wins their respect by being as brave as they are.
“So do I. It’s a bad habit, though. Wanting to do and learn something new all the time kept me moving around. At some point you have to slow down, and stay in one place. I’ve just recently figured that out. I turned forty and woke up alone.”
“I’ve done that for the last seventeen years in Connecticut. I moved back from London when my husband died, and bought the farm where we live now.” She looked serious as she said it. “It’s been good for the kids.”
“And for you?” She didn’t say much about herself. He had the feeling that she was always hiding, keeping out of sight and watching everyone else. He wasn’t wrong. She was an observer of life.
“The farm is a good place to write. It’s peaceful.”
“Do you go into the city much?” He was curious about her. She was famously private.
“Almost never,” she said about the city. “I’m too lazy. And I don’t like dealing with the press and paparazzi, so I stay on home turf.” The press still pursued her when she showed up in public or at an event. Her reclusiveness kept them interested in her. And she was a star now as a director.