From Notting Hill with Love...Actually (19 page)

I stared in disbelief at them for a few more seconds before I turned and ran into the hotel. I didn’t wait for the lift—I took the stairs instead. Four flights later and a sprint down the corridor I opened my hotel room door, slammed it shut behind me, and flung myself onto the bed, breathing heavily.

As I lay and stared hard at the ceiling, I wondered how I could have been so stupid.

How could I have even thought that Sean would want to meet me tonight? He obviously had other plans. Maybe those other plans had been made even before he’d found out about my mother? And the whole “business” thing had just been to spare my feelings today.

The conclusions I’d reached less than an hour ago at the top of the Eiffel Tower had been right. I should have spent today with David—I’d been selfish and stupid. He was the one who loved me and wanted to be with me—not Sean. I reached over and unplugged my phone, still charging at the side of the bed. I’d call David now and tell him how much I loved him.

I glanced at the screen. There were several missed calls, and two unopened texts waiting for me.

The first text was from David thanking me for one I’d sent him earlier. I hadn’t spent the whole day being a complete idiot—I had actually remembered to wish my fiancé a happy Valentine’s Day.

The second was from Sean. I hesitated before opening it—did I really want to read more lies and excuses?

But, I had to know—so I pressed OPEN on the menu.

Where
r
u? Hav been trying 2 call. Won’t b back @ hotel till late 2night, something’s cropped up. Hope u had fun afternoon, Sean.

PS
Call
me
when
u
get
this, worried about u.

Yeah, I bet you are, I thought, thinking about the restaurant. Then I remembered my note. Damn, he’d see it when he got back tonight. If only I could get into his room and find it before he did. At least then I wouldn’t look so stupid. Sean would rib me about this forever when he found out I’d been sitting at the top of the Eiffel Tower alone all night.

I sat up and looked around the room.

Hmm…now what did I have that was flat enough to slip underneath his door…Where was a ruler when you needed one?

I looked through my suitcase for something suitable. Shoes—too wide; comb—too short. Wait, I know…I felt at the bottom of the case underneath my bridesmaid dress carefully packed away in its protective cover and found what I was looking for.

I’d bought the L-plates to pin on Maddie on her hen night, but one of the other girls had got to her first with her own. I’d felt a bit peeved at the time—after all,
I
was the one who was chief bridesmaid. But now that the plates were needed for more important matters I was grateful she’d beaten me to it.

I crept out of my room and knocked gently on Sean’s door, just in case I hadn’t heard him come back. Then I ran back into my own room and pressed my ear to the inside of the door. The last thing I wanted was to come face to face with Sean tonight unless it was absolutely necessary.

After a minute or so, happy there was no sound from the next room, I crept out into the hall again. I checked up and down the corridor, making sure no one was about. When I was sure the coast was clear, I knelt down on the floor and tried to look into the tiny gap at the bottom of Sean’s door.

I couldn’t see a thing, let alone whether there was a note still lying there. So I tried to insert one of the L-plates into the gap, and to my surprise it fitted. Slowly I moved the plastic from side to side under the door, and then I felt it catch something—at last, my note! I tried to get my L-plate on top of the paper to pull it toward me but it was having none of it and doggedly remained on the other side.

“Can
we
help at all?” I heard a voice above me say.

I froze, then very slowly turned my face up toward it. An elderly couple were standing over me looking perplexed. They were wearing smart evening dress and were obviously on their way back from a night out.

“Have you locked yourself out of your room, dear?” the woman asked, peering at me over the top of her glasses. Her snow-white hair, which was tied up tightly on top of her head in a bun, glowed like a halo around her head with the fluorescent light of the hallway behind it.

“Er…no…” I looked down at the L-plate still clutched in my hand. “Er…they’ve just got married and…we thought it would be funny if they found some L-plates in their room in the morning. Yes, that’s it…you know, Just Married…‘learners’ on their wedding night?” I scrambled to my feet.

“Oh…” The man, who was almost bald, cleared his throat. “Oh right, of course, we understand, don’t we, Marion?”

Marion looked at me suspiciously and then leaned in toward my ear. “Thing is, dear,” she whispered. “I don’t think many of them are these days.”

“Are?”

“Learners, dear. I know I wasn’t on my wedding night.” She winked at me. “Never mind though—it’s the thought that counts.” She put her arm through her husband’s. “Come along, Gilbert, should we pretend it’s our wedding night again? It’ll be better than the usual routine, and at least we won’t need any talcum powder for the rubber suits!”

Gilbert’s face suggested he thought that was a very good idea indeed.

Marion turned to me again. “Rubber can be so chafing in the most awkward of places, don’t you know?”

I hurriedly nodded.

“Well, good night, dear. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” She winked again. “I know I will!”

I watched open-mouthed while the couple walked away arm in arm, steadying each other as they went. Shaking my head, I tried to clear my mind of the unwanted images of Marion and Gilbert that were beginning to fill it.

The L-plates weren’t getting me anywhere, so I decided to return to my own room.

How much longer do I have? I thought as I paced about the floor. Sean and his companion had appeared to be leaving the restaurant when I saw them. Maybe they’d gone on somewhere else or were having a drink in the hotel bar? Otherwise they’d have been back by now.

I walked to the window to see if I could make out anything down below. There was a small balcony outside, so I opened the French windows and stepped out on to it. I looked toward the bistro but couldn’t see anything, only another couple wandering along the street on their way home.

When I turned to go back inside I noticed that the net curtain in Sean’s room was billowing out of his window. If the curtain was able to get out, that meant…

I looked at the distance between the two balconies. It wasn’t too bad; I could probably stretch my legs between the two—I shouldn’t fall.

Listen to yourself, Scarlett. You shouldn’t fall? You shouldn’t be going across there in the first place!

But I couldn’t bear the thought of Sean seeing that note. It would have been bad enough normally, but now I knew he’d spent the evening with another woman it would make my embarrassment even more painful. I had to get it back.

I took a deep breath before turning to face the wall, then, holding on to a drainpipe with one hand, tentatively dangled my leg over the edge of my own balcony and toward Sean’s. “Thank you, God,” I whispered, as my foot felt something solid underneath and I was able to place it down on a firm surface once again. So now I was straddled between the two rooms—one leg on each balcony—I had to take the next brave step and bring my right leg over to meet my left.

I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and, before I could change my mind, quickly swung my other leg over the gap and on to Sean’s balcony.

“Phew,” I said, opening my eyes again. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

Gently I pried open the French windows and slipped quietly inside. The room was in darkness.

Please
don’t let him have come back without me knowing
, I thought, hurriedly trying to remember where the light switch was in my own room.

I stumbled, literally, into a floor lamp, and after groping about for the switch for a few moments, managed to turn it on. At once the room was flooded with light.

I breathed another sigh of relief when I saw the bed was empty. I looked toward the door and saw my note lying innocently at the base of it. Quickly I ran toward it and was just about to reach down to pick it up, my
Mission
Impossible
complete, when I heard a key card being slotted into the other side of the door.

Shit! I thought, looking around me. I grabbed for the handle of a door that in my room would have led to the bathroom. But I hadn’t realized the rooms were set out as a mirror image of each other, and I found myself opening the door to a built-in wardrobe. I had no time to go elsewhere, so I quickly climbed inside and pulled the door to as best I could without a handle to help me.

I heard Sean’s voice first and then a woman’s.

“Sean, I’m impressed,” the woman said. “You’ve certainly come up in the world since I knew you. Better class hotels
and
better class rooms.”

“Indeed.” Sean spoke now. “There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then, though.”

“So it would seem.”

There was a slight pause before Sean spoke hurriedly. “Look, let me find you those brochures I was telling you about. I think they’re in my suitcase.”

Oh
God
no, his suitcase was wedged in between my legs at this precise moment
.

“Forget that for now, Sean,” the woman said. “You know what they say about all work.”

To my relief the wardrobe door didn’t open. But when the room went silent I realized that Sean finding me inside his wardrobe was going to be nothing compared to the embarrassment I might have to endure if what I thought was going on on the other side of the doors right now developed any further.

Now is really not the time to be living in a movie scene, I thought, recalling
Four
Weddings
and
a
Funeral
, and in particular the scene where Hugh Grant is stuck in the closet while the bride and groom bonk on the bed outside.

No
films
, I silently prayed.
Not
now
of
all
times—please, not now!

I think someone must have been listening. Because then I heard Sean’s voice—

“No, I’m sorry, I really can’t do this.”

“Sean, darling…come on, just for old times’ sake.”

I heard a sort of scuffling noise.

“No, Jen! Really, I can’t. There’s someone else now.”

“Who? You never mentioned anyone else at dinner.”

Yes, who, Sean? You’ve never mentioned anyone else to me either. But if it means getting rid of this Jen…wait, wasn’t Jen the name of Sean’s contact in New York?

“Well, there is,” Sean said so quietly I could hardly hear him. “And she’s very important to me.”

“So what was tonight all about, then?” Jen demanded. “Just dinner?”

“Yes,” Sean said, sounding apologetic. “That’s exactly what it was—just a thank-you for helping me out.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry if you thought it was more than that, Jen. I can assure you my intention was not to lead you on.”

There was a brief silence and then Jen spoke again.

“I haven’t heard from you in years, Sean, and then out of the blue I get a phone call from you asking for help. What am I supposed to think?”

I’m guessing Sean shrugged then because there was silence once more. Oh, it was so annoying being in this cupboard—I wanted to see what was happening. Then I remembered why I was there, and I calmed down again.

“Well, you never contacted me either, did you? You ran off with the Yank, and that was the last I knew. I mean Oscar isn’t likely to tell me what you’re up to, is he?”

Oh
my
God, Jen is Oscar’s sister…the one who broke Sean’s heart!

“He was called Rob, as you well know, Sean. After all, he was your best friend.”

Oh
my
God, his best friend? Sean said he was just a work colleague.

“Exactly, Jen, my best friend, and you ran off with him.”

“That’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. And anyway, if you were still so sore about it, why did you call me up wanting my help? You knew I’d be here in Paris right now for fashion week. Admit it, Sean, you wanted to see me again.”

Don’t, Sean—don’t admit anything!
I willed from my cupboard.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” Sean said coolly. “I assumed you were safely back in New York when I called.”

“So why call?”

“Because, for the hundredth time, I needed some information, and, unfortunately for me, you were the only person I knew who might be able to help.”

“So why ask me out to dinner then?”

“I didn’t; you invited yourself. And because you’d been so unusually helpful, I was too polite to say no.”

“You used me,” Jen said accusingly.

“I did not.”

“So where is she then? This girl you’ve been helping? I’m assuming she’s the someone else you mentioned.”

Silence.

“I thought as much,” Jen continued. “If that’s the case, I may as well just go. You’ve humiliated me, Sean, letting me follow you to your hotel room like this. I hope you’re happy.”

“I promise you it was not my intention, Jen. However, if that’s how you feel, then…”

There was silence again. Oh how I wished I could see what was happening.

“Then what, Sean?”

“Then I’ll look on it as an added bonus. Because now, Jen, you’ve experienced just a tiny percentage of how you made me feel when you ran off with the Yank!”

Go,
Sean!
I wanted to yell.

A door slammed shut and the room fell silent. I felt secretly pleased for Sean—he had definitely won that battle.

But my euphoria was somewhat short-lived—for it dawned on me I was still stuck in the wardrobe. It was getting hot and stuffy in here now, and my legs were starting to cramp from straddling Sean’s suitcase. How on earth was I going to escape?