From Notting Hill with Love...Actually (32 page)

I turned back to the others, who were watching everything that was unfolding in front of them. Then I glanced down at the invitation I still held tightly in my hand; this time I saw the picture on the other side of the postcard.

“But it can’t be,” I whispered to myself. “How did he know?”

The postcard was one of those art cards, the sort you get in galleries as a souvenir of one of their paintings. And the painting on the card was of a bride on her wedding day—it was
La
Mariée
.

It was the painting that had hung in the art gallery I went to visit with Maddie. The one Julia Roberts had given to Hugh Grant in the movie
Notting
Hill
…The song that had been playing earlier had been from the same film. Ronan had sung it in the movie when they’d sat on the bench together in the moonlight—just like Sean and I had.

Notting Hill was also where Sean and I had first met, in a bookshop—just like Hugh and Julia had.

Now Sean was giving me this painting too…if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn that Sean knew these films as well as I did! But that was a mad thought, because he hated movies, didn’t he?

I turned the postcard over and read it once more.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed as the realization of something awful hit me. “Where are Dermot and Finlay?”

Replacing their hats on their heads they emerged from the crowd again. “You were supposed to deliver this yesterday, weren’t you?” I demanded of Dermot.

“Yes, that’s right, but I did explain—”

“But it says for me to meet Sean tomorrow…that means he’s there now…today, at the top of the London Eye—waiting for me!”

I looked for the church clock. “What’s the time?” I asked impatiently when I couldn’t see it.

Everyone looked at their watches.

“It’s half past eleven,” Maddie answered first. “He’s still there if you’re going to go to him. Is that what you want, Scarlett? Do you want to go and find Sean?”

“I do,” I said, almost as though I needed to reinforce the decision for myself now it was finally made. “I do, Maddie. I’m going to go and find Sean, and I’m going to have the happy ending I’ve always wanted.” I hugged her. “Now then,” I asked, looking around at everyone else. “Just how do you get to the London Eye from here?”

“We’ll take you,” Dermot offered. “We’ve got our car parked around the corner.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.”

“It’s OK. I used to be a London cabbie once upon a time. I have the
knowledge
,” Dermot said proudly. “Plus it would be our pleasure to help—wouldn’t it, Finlay? After all it’s our fault the invitation was late getting to you, it’s the least we can do.”

“If you’re sure?” I looked at Finlay, who nodded his agreement silently as always.

“Come on, let’s go!” Dermot called, already heading down the path. “You’ve no time to lose!”

I ran after the Blues Brothers, clutching the card and ticket to my chest. “I love you all,” I called back to my parents, Maddie, Ursula, and Oscar as they followed us along the path to the waiting car.

“And I love you too, Sean,” I whispered, looking down at the card in my hand once more. “Wait for me, won’t you—please.”

I think Dermot fancied himself as a bit of an action hero, because we took off at breakneck speed in the very authentic-looking American police car that he and Finlay had arrived in.

I’d assumed they’d meant they had a normal car parked around the corner—not a replica from the original
Blues
Brothers
movie. But it seemed that Dermot and Finlay took their business very seriously indeed. I was grateful now they hadn’t been able to turn up as Scarlett and Rhett today—because a horse-drawn carriage from the American Civil War wouldn’t have been traveling at anywhere near the speeds the “Bluesmobile” was doing right now.

But it wouldn’t have mattered what form of transport we’d taken once we began to hit the central London gridlock. As I sat anxiously in the back of the police car, waiting for us to shunt forward another few meters, I suddenly realized what I was wearing.

“Oh my God, I’m still in my wedding dress!” I panicked from the backseat. Finlay turned the stereo down that had been constantly playing the
Blues
Brothers
soundtrack since we left, and Dermot glanced at me in his rearview mirror.

“But you do look lovely in it,” he said, smiling.

“I know, but I can’t just roll up and meet Sean in a wedding dress I was going to marry another man in, now can I?”

“Hmm,” he said. “That is a bit tricky when you put it like that.”

“What choice do I have? I can’t very well change now. I don’t have the time or anything to change into.” I leaned forward between the two front seats and looked through the windshield. “Damn it, is this traffic ever going to move?”

It was just like Glasgow all over again—the day when Sean and I had ridden to the wedding on the back of mopeds. Except this time, I was the bride—running away from my own wedding.

And yes, I know I was in yet another movie. And yet again it was a Julia Roberts one. But I didn’t have time to reflect on that now, as we slowed right down and virtually came to a standstill a few yards away from the entrance to a church.

As we sat there waiting to move forward, I realized there must be another wedding taking place today, as the sound of church bells ringing filled the air.
I
hope
yours
is
more
successful
than
mine
was
, I thought as I sat well back in the car. I saw a man in full morning dress walk out of the church gates, and I wondered, as he walked toward us, if he was the nervous groom.

It was when he got right up to the outside of our car that an uneasy feeling started to spread over me.

He grabbed the door handle just as I went to push the lock down and thrust the car door wide open.

“You’re early,” he said, peering into the car. “The bridesmaids aren’t even here yet. I’m Max by the way, one of Graham’s ushers, we’ve not met before.” He held out his hand for me to shake.

“I…I’m not the bride,” I hurriedly said, trying to grab the door again and pull it shut.

“Don’t be daft, of course you are, Teresa—that’s just nerves. I didn’t know you were having a Blues Brothers theme?” he said, staring at Dermot and Finlay in the front seats. “But that’s cool—I like it. Now which one of you is Dad?”

“I’m telling you I’m
not
the bride,” I said, managing to wrangle the door from his grasp. “I’m
not
Teresa. And this is definitely not my wedding!” and I slammed the door shut again.

“Get us out of here, Dermot…please,” I implored him, as I recoiled from Max’s flattened face pressed up against the car’s rear window.

“Our Lady of Blessed Acceleration, don’t fail me now!” Dermot called out as he thrust the car into gear.

“It’s from the movie,” Finlay explained, breaking his silence for the first time. “He’s been waiting his whole life for an opportunity to say that line.”

Luckily, just then a significant gap opened up in the traffic and Dermot was able to accelerate away from the church, leaving Max standing on the side of the road looking dazed.

“Oh God,” I said, my head in my hands. “I should have known this would be a disaster. Everything I do always is.”

“I think it’s only going to get worse, I’m afraid,” Dermot said, looking at the traffic backing up in front of us. “There’s no way we’re going to make it across London by midday.”

Finlay turned and looked at me. “Can’t you phone him?” he asked sympathetically. “And let him know you’re on your way?”

I looked up at him, surprised he had spoken again—I guessed he was usually a man of few words. Then I looked down at my dress, and held out my hands. “All I came away with was these,” I said, holding up the card and ticket. “I don’t have my phone with me, and I don’t remember his number to use someone else’s.”

“Finlay, I think you’re missing the point,” Dermot said. “It wouldn’t be very romantic if Scarlett just called him up and said, ‘I’m on my way, but I’m stuck in traffic,’ now would it?”

“It would save a lot of hassle though,” Finlay said matter-of-factly.

“No,” Dermot continued. “She needs to race along the Embankment with only seconds to spare—hoping against hope she’ll make it on time—before her true love, in despair, gives up on her and disappears from her life forever.”

Finlay and I both stared at Dermot.

“You not only watch too many films, but you’ve been dressing up like characters from them for far too long,” Finlay said. “Let’s be realistic—Scarlett’s not going to make it there on time. This isn’t a movie script; this is
real
life, in
real
London traffic. I’m sorry, there’s just not going to be a happy ending this time.”

“Right,” I said, my hand already on the door. “That’s it. I’m getting out. I’ll run there if I have to, even in this stupid dress. There is no way I’m not making it to the London Eye by midday. There
will
be a happy ending for me this time, just you wait and see.”

I climbed out of the car. “Thank you both so much for getting me this far,” I said, smiling gratefully at them as Finlay rolled down his window. “Can I just ask you one more favor though?”

“Sure, what’s that?” Dermot asked.

“Could you lend me my tube fare?”

***

I ran along the pavement as fast as I could in my awkward and now very uncomfortable wedding shoes until I found the nearest underground station, then descended into its depths and quickly bought myself a ticket.

I tried to ignore the stares I got from commuters as I ran down escalators and along corridors to shouts of, “Late for the church, are we?” or, “Been jilted at the altar darlin’?” and a rousing chorus of “I’m Getting Married in the Morning” from a gang of Arsenal supporters on their way to a home game.

It seemed an eternity as we trundled along on the Bakerloo line—every time the train stopped in the tunnel or at a station, I’d try and glance surreptitiously at someone’s watch to see the time. But eventually we arrived at Embankment and I emerged into the fresh air once more. I could see the London Eye, dwarfing everything around it as it stood elegantly by the side of the Thames. So, running as fast as I could manage, I crossed the Golden Jubilee Bridge, holding my white tulle skirts aloft like a lady of the bygone age in her crinolines. I glanced at Big Ben in the distance—it was two minutes to twelve.

As I descended to the footpath that ran alongside the South Bank of the Thames, I managed to overtake tourists taking photos, children rollerblading, and even a couple of slow joggers. It was only as I ran past a coffee shop, with a few tables waiting hopefully outside in the early April sunshine, that I suddenly pulled myself to a halt.

Slowly I reversed to the shop. Was that who I thought it was sitting at one of the tables toward the back of the outdoor seating area? I stopped and stared.

And then slowly, as if he sensed me looking at him, although I wasn’t actually that inconspicuous, standing there in a full-length wedding dress with a tiara balanced precariously in my hair and my skirt pulled up around my knees, Hugh Grant turned around and stared back at me.

He spoke quickly to the man sitting opposite him, and then they both turned to look at me. Hugh’s dining partner looked familiar too—he had whitish gray hair and spectacles. And then, as I stood there still staring, I realized that not only was I looking at Hugh Grant sitting having a cup of coffee in the middle of London on a sunny April day, but Richard Curtis too.

I hovered there for a moment—these were two of my biggest movie heroes, sitting right there in front of me—I had to go over, I had to…then I heard the chimes of Big Ben signaling it was about to become midday and I snapped back to the real reason I was here.

No, Scarlett, not this time
, I told myself.
Sean
is
more
important
than
the
cinema
. “Put this in one of your movies!” I shouted to them both, as I hoisted up my dress once more and began to run the final few hundred meters along the footpath. Each chime of Big Ben brought me that little bit closer to the Eye, until I arrived by its side just as the last chime declared it was now officially midday.

Breathlessly I stood at the bottom of the huge wheel and watched the glass capsules rotate slowly around. I looked up desperately to see if I could catch a glimpse of Sean in one of them, but most of the insides were not visible to me down on the ground.

Then I saw the queue.

It snaked around the turnstiles several times before ending a few feet in front of me. But people were joining it all the time—if I got in that queue I’d never spot Sean, and there was no way I’d ever make it to the wheel before he got off.

“Excuse me,” I said, beginning to push my way up through the queue. “It’s an emergency—thank you,” I’d say, as I got a bit further. “Thank you—emergency—sorry; have to get through—emergency, see.”

“Looks it, darlin’,” a man said as I passed by him. “Lost your groom, have you?”

Finally I reached the front. “I’m so sorry to push in like this,” I said to the attendant on the gate. “It’s really important I get to the wheel—I’m supposed to be meeting someone there.”

I expected there’d be an argument, or at least a look of “We get them all here, trying to push in—and look at this one, she’s even come in fancy dress!” But instead, the lady just smiled at me.

“Are you Scarlett?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, that’s me.”

“We’ve been waiting for you to turn up all morning. He’s been going round on this thing since 9 a.m.”

I looked up to where she was pointing and saw Sean coming into view at last. He was wearing a smart black suit and a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the neck. He looked despondent as he rested his head dejectedly against the glass window of the capsule.

But then he glanced down in our direction, and his expression immediately changed. A huge smile broke out over his face and then an even bigger grin as his capsule finally came down to ground level.

“Quickly, miss,” the attendant said. “Be ready to board when the pod comes past. Otherwise you’ll miss it and have to wait another half an hour.”

There was no way I was going to let that happen. I leaped up onto the area where people were boarding the capsules as they passed slowly by. There were about fifteen to twenty boarding each capsule at a time. But when Sean’s finally came into view, there was only him inside.

“Hop on, miss,” another attendant said, helping me on board. “Safe ride.” He winked at Sean, who was standing up against the glass on the far side of the pod.

Inside the capsule, there seemed to be flowers everywhere.

Roses and lilies were arranged elegantly in a long glass vase. How did Sean know they were my two favorite flowers? Had I mentioned it to him in passing one day and he’d remembered?

They stood on a small table next to an ice bucket, which held a bottle of champagne patiently waiting to be poured into two empty glasses. I looked down and saw more flowers—a sea of pink and red rose petals covered every inch of the floor. It was one of the most romantic settings I’d ever seen.

“Oh, Sean, it’s just beautiful,” I said, walking toward him. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to get here. But it was the Blues Brothers, they didn’t arrive until today, and when they did finally arrive, as you can see”—I gestured at my dress—“I was already at the church. But oh, Sean, when they played that song to me, and said it was from you, I knew I just had to come here and find you. And then there was the painting, Sean, it’s just all so romantic, and so unexpected. How did you even know about that?”

Sean didn’t speak—he just held up his hand to stop me coming any closer.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked.

Sean reached down and picked up some large white pieces of card. He held the first one up in front of him, like a flash card. Then he proceeded to communicate silently with me in lines from the movies I knew and loved so well. Except they weren’t the exact lines spoken by the actors on the screen; Sean had cleverly changed them to fit in with our own story. It was just like the scene from
Love
Actually
I’d told him about—only better.

I
say
it
best, when I say nothing at all.

I grinned at him as he turned over the next card.

In
the
spirit
of
Love
Actually
(The Bee Gees, and latterly Boyzone)

I
should
like
to
tell
you
how
I
feel
in
Words, if I may?

I nodded eagerly. Oh my God, I couldn’t believe he’d done all this for me.

Firstly, don’t apologize for being late, because when you’re in love with someone, apparently you never have to say you’re sorry.

First, how did he know I’d be late? And second, he was of course referring to the classic line from
Love
Story
.