Читать книгу Confessions of an Undercover Cop - Ash Cameron - Страница 24

I’ll never forget the night duty I was sent to Jermyn Street, W1, to stand by while filming was taking place. It was just another job in the day in the life of a young constable in the capital. There was always filming taking place somewhere in the West End. Most of it happened at night when the streets were quieter and there were less people around. It was a boring task but once in a while something exciting happened.

There I stood, scuffing the pavement while keeping the non-existent crowd at bay, and trying not to lean against the metal barriers, which were more for effect than protection. I was bored and dreaming about my warm bed, thick blankets and a deep sleep. I had no idea who was filming, what they were filming or when it would finish.

A distinctive voice crooned in my ear, caressing the air with a tone like velvet. ‘Aren’t you cold, my dear?’

I was startled and compelled to look up. I fell into pools of sparkling blue as his twinkling eyes smiled at me. Wow! This man oozed sex appeal even though he must have been thirty or more years older than me. Age didn’t matter on this cold autumn night.

I smoothed down my skirt, coarse under my fingertips and unbecoming as a fashion item for a young girl like me. ‘Err … a bit … yes … chilly,’ I stuttered.

He was much taller than I’d imagined.

‘Don’t they give you trousers these days?’ he asked, eyes sparkling, mouth crinkling, everything about him charming and easy.

I smiled back. ‘Not yet. Maybe in a couple of years, when they catch on.’

‘In my dad’s day,’ he said, ‘when he was a sergeant at Bow Street Police Station …’

And that’s how I became star-struck for a man older than my father. I spent a very nice half an hour with this gorgeous man, alone in his company. He told me all about his father who policed like policemen should back in the wartime years. He told me about his childhood and what it was like to have a policeman father and how he was both in awe and just a little bit frightened of him. How they were given oranges and lumps of Christmas pudding in their stockings at Christmas and if they were lucky they’d get a sixpence. Or maybe half a crown.

He asked questions about me and appeared interested in the answers, things like why I’d gone to London, what my ambitions were and what did my family think. He said he hoped I’d live my dream, just like he was living his.

He might have been acting, or he might have meant it. I don’t know. I was sorry when he had to go back to filming. Like a true fan, I was enamoured. I was also a smidge embarrassed when I asked for his autograph. I still have it, written on a piece of Metropolitan Police memo paper.

I’ll never forget the night I spent half an hour with Roger Moore.

He was the first of the big stars I was to fall for …