From Notting Hill with Love...Actually (17 page)

Maddie and Felix appeared in their going-away outfits, my wedding gift to them. They’d been outfitted in clothes of their choice (Maddie’s choice mostly) from Selfridges, when we’d had a fun day out, just the three of us in London, in the January sales. And as they climbed up into their carriage, Maddie wearing an elegant winter white trouser suit and Felix looking much more casual now in a petrol-blue cashmere sweater and navy blue cords, Maddie was still carrying her bouquet.

“Ladies,” she called. “The time has come for us to see who will be the next lucky female to walk down the aisle! Are you ready?”

There was a surge toward the carriage as half the guests piled forward. I held my ground by the fountain—there was no way I was going to leave these two delinquents alone for a second.

Maddie stood up and looked around her, then she peered out into the sea of guests.

Oh no, she wasn’t looking for me, was she?
Just
throw
it, Maddie
, I willed her.
Don’t worry where I am!
I prayed she wouldn’t see me, or that, if she did, there was no way she’d get the bouquet this far.

But she spied me standing by the water and grinned. Then she closed her eyes, reached way back behind her, and threw the bouquet as far into the distance as she could. I’d forgotten that Maddie used to play in a women’s American football team when she was at university and could easily throw a ball twenty meters down a field. As if in slow motion, the bouquet sailed over the heads of the desperate females—who jumped and leaped in the air to try and intercept it—and landed firmly in my hands, ready for a touchdown.

Everyone turned to look at me.

I held the bouquet aloft and quickly moved forward to try and distract attention from Sean and David, still standing in the water behind me.

Maddie waved, then winked at me knowingly, as she saw the two bedraggled men. Then she and Felix sat down, and everyone waved good-bye as they rode off together, out of the park gates and along to a taxi I knew was waiting around the corner ready to take them to their hotel in the center of Paris.

Slowly, the crowd began to disperse as everyone moved back into the hotel.

I turned around to look at the two disheveled specimens behind me.

“I guess I should be saying thank you for providing me with yet another movie scene to add to my collection,” I told them sternly. “You two did a fine job of recreating the fight between Mark and Daniel in the second Bridget Jones film. But I won’t, because you’re just ridiculous. Two grown men fighting about…well, what
are
you fighting about?”

Sean and David looked at each other and I thought for one awful moment they were going to start again.

“David, just wait there,” I said, holding up my left hand like I was directing traffic. “I just want to talk to Sean for a moment. Sean,” I said, beckoning him with my right hand, which was still holding Maddie’s bouquet, “you come this way.”

We left David standing in the fountain, as Sean waded through the water toward me. The wet white shirt that clung tightly to his torso had become almost transparent as he climbed out of the water.

“I’m sorry…” he began as he pushed his hair back off his face.

“Over here,” I said, pulling him away from the water and out of David’s earshot.

“Hey, did I give you another movie moment there?” Sean asked. “I must have looked a lot like Mr. Darcy coming out of the water just then.”

He had, actually, but I’d tried hard not to think about it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said. “And anyway, you’re thinking of the TV adaptation of
Pride
and
Prejudice
, there was no lake scene in the film.”

Sean shrugged. “You’re the expert.”

“Look, Sean, you’d better go and get some dry clothes on,” I said, aware that David was still close by. “And then maybe you should go and find Danielle. She must be wondering where you are—that’s if she didn’t notice you in the water.”

“I doubt it,” Sean said. “I think she got the message when I wouldn’t dance with her to Robbie Williams. I hate that song.”

I smiled. Of course he’d hate it; I should have known.

“What’s funny about that? I do. Anyway, I was looking for an excuse to get away from her—she was really starting to get on my nerves.”

“But I thought you were enjoying her company?”

Sean frowned. “No. I was just putting up with her for something to do.”

“But I thought…”

“You thought what, Scarlett? That I fancied her?” Sean raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know anyone at this wedding; she was the only person that wanted to talk to me for more than a couple of minutes.”

“You knew me.”

“Yeah, but you were with David, and I could hardly play gooseberry all evening, could I?”

“Oh, Sean, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I’d rather have been with you.”

We looked into each other’s eyes and at that moment all I wanted to do was put my arms around him again. I almost forgot David was still waiting in the water.

“Ahem,” David said. He had pulled himself out of the fountain and was standing just a few feet away from us.

“Sean’s just going inside,” I insisted. “Aren’t you, Sean?”

Sean nodded. “I think I’d best call it a night,” he said, backing away. “I’ll see you in the morning, Scarlett. Shall I book us a taxi to go into Paris?”

“Sure, that’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

I watched Sean walk away, and then I turned to David.

“What does he mean, book you a taxi to go into Paris? You’re not spending tomorrow with him, Scarlett. Have you forgotten what day it will be?”

“Er…”

“February the 14th. Valentine’s Day.”

Oh God, I had forgotten.

“The thing is, David—it’s complicated.”

“You’re telling me, Scarlett.” David ran his hands through his own wet hair, but he didn’t look anywhere near as sexy doing it as Sean had done a few minutes earlier. “I thought we agreed we were going to spend the day together before we flew home tomorrow night? And now you want to spend it with
him
. Who, ten minutes ago, do I need to remind you, was found by me with his hands all over you?”

“No, Sean isn’t the complication.” Well, he was part of it, but I wasn’t going to tell David that. “There’s something else.”

“You mean to tell me there’s more going on than you running off to London for a month’s holiday away from me? A month that I now fear I was very much mistaken in allowing you to have? More than you spending all your time with another man—who you’ve not only tried to make out is nothing more than ‘just a friend,’ but who you now announce you would rather spend Valentine’s Day with than me? There’s
more
to it than that, Scarlett?”

“Yes, David, there is.”

“Well let’s hear it then, because I’m sure this will be very illuminating.”

“Why don’t we go back to our room? You can get dried off, and then we can talk as much as you like.”

David looked down at the puddle around his feet.

He
doesn’t look anywhere near as good wet as Sean did
…

I shook my head—I had to stop these comparisons, they were almost as bad as my movie ones.

“No, Scarlett,” David said, staring angrily at me. “I think I want to hear everything right now, before you have time to think up
more
excuses for your behavior. You at least owe me that.”

“Yes, you’re right,” I said, and I told David as quickly as I could about what had been going on with my mother, how Sean and I had been chasing leads all over the place, and why I now really needed to go with him into Paris tomorrow. By the time I had finished, he was starting to look very cold.

“David, let’s go inside and finish talking about this. You’ll catch pneumonia if you continue to stand out here soaking wet.”

“Just answer me three questions,” David said, appearing not to hear me. “Do you love me, Scarlett?”

“Yes, of course I do. What sort—”

David cut me short. “Do you love
him
?”

“Who? You mean Sean?”

David nodded.

My mouth went dry and I swallowed hard. “No.”

“Do you love your father?”

“What the hell sort of question is that? Of course I do!”

“Then leave it, Scarlett. Leave this whole notion of finding your mother alone. You’ll only end up getting hurt. And you’re going to end up hurting others too.”

I thought about what he’d just said. “What do you mean, people are going to get hurt? Are you talking about Dad and me if I find my mother? Or me and you if I go with Sean to find her?”

“Everyone, Scarlett—this whole process is going to end in heartbreak somewhere along the line. This started out as a simple—but now I see stupid—idea for you to have some time away, to ‘get your head together,’ I think was the exact phrase put to me. And it’s now escalated into this quite mad notion you’re going to find your mother. And what if you do, Scarlett? What if you find her and she doesn’t want anything to do with you? She didn’t all those years ago. Have you thought about that? How you’re going to feel if she rejects you all over again?”

I hadn’t even considered that possibility in all my euphoria.

“How will your father feel if by some chance she wants to be a part of your life once more? Have you thought about what that would do to him?”

I shook my head.

“No, I thought not. And have you thought about how I’m feeling in all this, when you, the woman I’m going to marry in a few weeks, is running around the country with another man? Have you ever stopped to think for one moment how that might make
me
feel? Have you?”

I hung my head and looked at the ground.

“When are you going to start realizing, Scarlett, this isn’t a movie you’re in now—this is real life, real people, and there might
not
be a happy ending if you continue messing with our lives like this.”

I looked up at David. He’d given it to me straight, and he was right. Everything he’d said had been true, and I hadn’t ever stopped to consider it.

“But what if I don’t see this through, David? I might never find out if I
can
have that happy ending with my mum. And that’s all I really want, to be happy, and to know that I did everything I could to give myself the chance to be.”

David shook his head despairingly. “If I hadn’t given my word to your father…” he muttered.

“What do you mean? What did you say to him?”

“It’s not what I said to
him
, Scarlett—it’s what he said to me.”

“I don’t understand. Explain yourself, David.”

“I can’t. I gave him my word when I went to see him that I wouldn’t get involved in this. And against my better judgment, that’s just what I’m
not
going to do.” He straightened himself up. “Scarlett, you win—I trust you. Go to Paris with Sean tomorrow—go to the moon with him for all I care. Just promise me you’ll be at that church, by my side, in April. You do still want that, don’t you, for us to be married?”

“I do, David,” I said, solemnly looking into his eyes. “Really, I do. I just need to do this one thing first.”

“Then that’s all I want, Scarlett. For you to be there that day, saying those same words to me.”

“David, I promise you that on our wedding day I’ll be in London, in my wedding dress, saying the words I do.”

Sean and I stood on the pavement in the shadow of the Arc de Triomphe. We’d been in Paris for most of the day, visiting the many Louis Vuitton stores that were scattered across the city. Now we had just emerged from the Metro yet again and we found ourselves this time on the bustling and ultra-chic Champs-Elysées.

“Right, I think it’s this way,” Sean said, looking up from his map. “We’re looking for 101.” Eagerly he set off along the pavement.

With slightly less enthusiasm, I followed.

It had not been a very successful morning so far. To begin with, there had been a decidedly chilly air in the hotel room as I’d packed my things into my suitcase and prepared to meet Sean downstairs after breakfast.

David hadn’t said too much after the events of the night before. He’d been polite and courteous, as he always was, but he’d been distant too.

I couldn’t say I blamed him. After what he’d told me last night, I realized he was right—I hadn’t given any thought to how all this must seem to him. If the shoe had been on the other foot, and it was David racing about with another woman in tow, would I have been as gracious to David as he had been to me, and let him continue? I think, not.

I vowed once this was all over I would somehow make it up to him.

Not that I wanted it all to be over: that was something else I hadn’t given much thought to—returning home again. Once my time was up, that was it—I would return to Stratford, to Maddie, my father, and to David, and I would probably never see Ursula, Oscar, or, more importantly, Sean ever again.

I sighed heavily.

“Hey, buck up,” Sean said. “She has to be at one of them—it’s just a matter of time.”

“It’s not that. I was just thinking about something David said last night.”

It was Sean’s turn to sigh now. I knew he hadn’t been very impressed by David’s actions.

“What has he said this time?”

“He asked me what would happen if we do find my mother and she doesn’t want anything to do with me. After all, if she didn’t want me when I was a baby, why should she want me now?”

Sean stopped walking, placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, and turned me around to face him.

“Stop this,” he ordered, looking directly into my eyes. “You were so enthusiastic about all this before last night—there were no doubts in your mind at all about what you were doing. All you wanted was to find your mother. You weren’t worrying about who she was, or what she’d think of you—just that you’d finally get to meet her.”

“I know but…”

“But nothing, Scarlett—it’s David who has put all these doubts in your mind. I don’t know what he said to you after I left last night, but it hasn’t done you any good.”

“David was very understanding about everything, actually.”

Sean let go of my shoulders and spun away from me, rolling his eyes. “Understanding—yeah right, that’s what it was. Controlling, more like.”

“Sean, please,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “Let’s not argue about David. My mind is in enough turmoil thinking my mother could be just around the corner every time we get off the Metro. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Sean said, giving me an apologetic smile. “I won’t mention his name again.” He put his arm through mine and saluted with his other hand. “Right then, Red, it’s full speed ahead. The next handbag shop awaits us!”

We walked a bit further along the Champs-Elysées and there, as promised, was another Louis Vuitton shop, selling its distinctive luxury leather luggage and bags. Sean pushed open the door and we went inside.

“
Bonjour
,” he said to the exquisitely made-up assistant behind the desk.
“Parlez-vous anglais
?”

“
Oui, monsieur
, I most certainly do,” she replied in extremely good English. “How can I help?”

It was always a relief when the assistant spoke English. It was hard enough explaining to someone in our own language who we were looking for and why. But in the little bit of French Sean and I could cobble together between us, it was virtually impossible. I watched her while Sean spoke; with her short cropped hair and elfin features, she had an aura of
Amélie
about her, which I felt only boded well.

“Ah good,” Sean said. “We are looking for a lady called Rosemary. Do you have anyone who works here called that?”

“Or it could be Rosie?” I added helpfully.

“
Non
, we have no one here of that name, I am sorry.”

“Have you worked here long…Chantal?” Sean asked, looking at the assistant’s name badge. “I mean, is there a member of staff that’s been here a longer time than you?”

Chantal looked puzzled.

“Someone older?” I tried.

“Ah yes, older, now I understand. There is Marie, she has been ’ere for er…long time.”

“Could we speak to her?” I asked.

“
Oui
, she is out in the back just now. One moment, I shall return.”

While we waited, I glanced at some of the bags beautifully displayed on the glass podiums and shelves. I didn’t bother glancing at the price tags, though. No point.

Presently, Chantal returned with an elderly woman dressed entirely in black. She was holding on tightly to Chantal’s arm for support; and was almost bent double as she hobbled across the shop.

“This is Marie,” Chantal said. “She is the grandmother of our manageress. She likes to come and sit in the shop with us for company since her husband died, but they do not let her sit out front.” Chantal put her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered to us. “They say it will…’ow you say…er…put the customers off?” She found Marie a seat and helped her into it. “She does not speak any English, but I shall try and ask her what you ask me.”

I nodded and smiled at Marie. She stared hard at me over her tiny pince-nez glasses.

Chantal then presumably asked Marie the same questions we had asked her. But it was hard to tell—I could only really pick out the word Rosemary.

Marie shook her head vehemently.

“She says no,” Chantal translated unnecessarily.

“Or Rosie?” I asked, looking at Marie.

Again she shook her head.

I turned to Sean. “We may as well just go; this is getting us nowhere.”

“English,” Marie said.

We all turned to look at her.

“English,” she said, pointing her bony finger at me.

“Yes, that’s right, I am.”

“Vivien,” she said, nodding.

“No, my name is Scarlett.”

She nodded again. “Oui…Scarlett…Vivien. Da, daa, da, daa. Da, daa, da, daaa,” she hummed.

“Come on,” Sean said. “Let’s go, we’ve still got one more shop to try yet. Plus,” he whispered, “I don’t think this old bird is all there.”

“No, wait,” I said, listening to Marie hum. “Can’t you hear what she’s singing? I think it’s the theme tune to
Gone
with
the
Wind
.”

We all stood and listened to Marie humming. She stopped and smiled a toothy grin at us.

“Vivien,” she said again, pointing at me. Then she spoke to Chantal in French.

“What’s she saying?” I asked.

“She says you look like Vivien.”

“Who, Vivien Leigh?”

Chantal asked Marie.

“No,” Chantal explained. “A woman that used to work here. Marie says she very much loved the cinema, and her favorite film, she remembers, was
Gone
with
the
Wind
. So the staff, they called her Vivien, as it sounded more French.”

“More French than…?” I asked hopefully. “What was her real name?”

Again Chantal spoke quickly to Marie.

“She does not remember her true name, I’m afraid.”

I was just about to give up when I remembered the photo. “Is this her?” I asked, producing the photo from my bag. I pointed to my mother in the picture. “Vivien?” I asked Marie, kneeling down beside her.

Marie peered closely at the photo and then she looked at me.

“
Oui
.” She nodded, looking down at the photo again. “Vivien.” Then she smiled at me. “Vivien,” she repeated as she took my hand in hers.

“Bingo,” Sean said, grinning.

***

With Chantal translating in between customers, I asked Marie as much as she could remember about my mother.

She described her to Chantal as being full of spirit and life, and with a passion for the cinema, which Marie also shared. She had not worked in the shop for long before she had once again moved on. But this time Marie seemed sure she had not stayed within Louis Vuitton but had gone to work elsewhere. “Mysterious circumstances,” Chantal translated it as.

The shop was starting to get busy now, so we decided we should leave. It was obvious to me Marie had indeed known, and liked, my mother very much, but yet again we had reached a dead end. We thanked Chantal and Marie profusely for all their help, then bade them farewell.

“So there you go,” I said to Sean as we stood outside on the pavement again. “That’s that.”

Sean fixed me with one of his disapproving looks. “Scarlett, you have to stop saying that every time we come up against a small hurdle. You can’t just give up so easily all the time.”

“What else are we supposed to do? We have no other leads. My mother worked here for a while, and that’s all we know. Marie has no idea where she went after she left. She could be anywhere, Sean.”

“But we were so close,” Sean said in frustration.

“I know, but at least I can take something away from all this—I’ve found out the kind of person my mother was. Everyone we’ve met has had good memories of her. She left her mark on people’s lives, Sean, and she’s obviously lived her life to the full.”

Just
as
I’m going to from now on
, I vowed to myself.

“But we’re giving up, admitting defeat, Scarlett. You can’t want that.”

“No, Sean,
you
don’t want that. I’ve found out so much more in the last week than I ever dreamed I’d find out about my mother, and I’m happy with that. Meeting her again just obviously wasn’t meant to be.”

Sean looked like he didn’t agree.

“Look, I know this isn’t how you would usually go about things, Sean—you’re the type of person that never gives up until he’s won—but on this occasion we can’t win, we can’t be the best, and we have to admit defeat.”

Sean still didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Scarlett? I mean it isn’t just because of what David said, is it?”

“No—no, it’s not.”

Sean raised an eyebrow.

“Honestly,” I insisted. “This is what I want. Besides,” I said, trying to sound cheerful as I changed the subject, “this means we now have the rest of our time free to see Paris properly. That’s if you’d like to spend the day with me, of course?”

Sean smiled. “You know I would.”

“Right then, let’s go somewhere now. And, if you promise to be good, I’ll try really hard not to find any movie moments while we’re here—how about that? Come on, Sean,” I urged, taking hold of his hand. “It’ll be fun.”

Sean’s face fell. “Oh, Scarlett, I’d love to—really I would. But I’m afraid I’ve got some business to attend to this afternoon.”

“Oh…oh right.” I tried not to sound too disappointed as I felt his hand fall away from mine. “Well, no matter. I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own. I bet you’ve seen most of it before anyway. You’d probably have been bored.”

“No, of course I wouldn’t. I would have loved showing you around Paris.” He glanced at his watch apprehensively. “What about if you wait for me back at the hotel? I could call you after my meeting and we can go somewhere then. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m a big girl. I can cope.” I was joking to try and lighten the moment, but Sean didn’t smile. “I’ll just meet you for dinner tonight back at the hotel, shall I? Then neither of us will feel the need to rush around this afternoon.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“Well, all right,” Sean said, still looking uncertain. “You’d better take this, though.” He held out the map. “You won’t get lost, will you?”

“Sean, I said I’ll be fine. Now just go, please,” I said, taking the map from him.

“Right, I guess I’ll see you later.”

I nodded and watched him while he walked back toward the Metro. It seemed odd to be on my own again. Sean and I had spent so much time together recently that not having him by my side now suddenly felt very strange indeed.

***

Before I descended to the Metro myself, I couldn’t help but pause outside one of the inviting chocolate shops that lined the Champs-Elysées.

They were like nothing I’d ever seen before. The window displays showed chocolate in every flavor and form you could think of, from truffles to marzipan flowers, pralines to ganaches and chocolate sculptures. It was a chocoholic’s paradise.

I allowed my gaze to wander from the window display to the inside of the shop, and it was there that my eyes stopped dead in their tracks and remained on something more gorgeous and more delicious than any Parisian chocolate shop could ever hope to contain: a certain Mr. Johnny Depp buying an expensive-looking box of chocolates.

As I stood staring at him through the window I knew I was probably drooling, but I couldn’t help it—it was Johnny Depp in there, just a few meters away from me, and if that wasn’t enough, he was buying chocolate! I watched while he paid for his purchase and then to my horror I realized he was now walking in my direction as he made his way toward the exit of the shop.

“Ahoy there!” I called as he stepped out onto the pavement.

Oh
my
God, what the hell was I saying?

He turned around.

He was just as gorgeous in real life as on the screen. I could feel my knees begin to buckle as his dark-chocolate eyes looked around him.

“Just kids having a joke, I think.” I looked over my shoulder, pretending to spot someone who might be responsible for that ridiculous outburst. I smiled and to my surprise he gave me a half-smile back.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, his voice sounding as sweet to my ears as all the chocolate in the shop would have been to my tongue. “But it’s usually in French over here.”