Page 11 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
“Exactly. It was hardly a road trip across America in a Ford Thunderbird, was it?”
David shook his head. “Scarlett, if you’re not happy with the way things are…”
“You know something, I’m not…but it seems I’m not the only one, am I?”
David looked at me. “Perhaps we both need to have a think about some things then?”
“Perhaps we do!”
“Look, I’ll go to the tile warehouse on my own tomorrow if you like. Give you a bit of space here to have a think.”
“No need. I’m going out with Maddie tomorrow so I’ll be out all day anyway.”
“Oh well—that’s good.”
“Yes it is.”
“And should I sleep in the spare room tonight?” David asked, looking at me with big, sorrowful eyes that suggested he hoped I’d say no.
“I’d say yes if it was in a fit state to sleep in,” I said matter-of-factly. David’s face lifted for a moment. “But since it’s not, perhaps you could make up a bed on the sofa.”
And then it fell again.
“Oh, all right,” he said. “That’s probably for the best then.”
“Yes, I think it is.”
While David made himself a cup of tea, and then a bed on the sofa with a pillow and a sleeping bag, I perched on a stool in the kitchen and silently watched him. I didn’t regret my decision for a minute, knowing the last person on earth I wanted sleeping next to me in my bed that night was Ian Beale.
***
Oscar burst out laughing.
“Oh my dear, I can quite understand why you’re here now. I would have wanted to escape from that DIY freak too. But how on earth did you find the house here in Notting Hill?”
“No, Oscar, that’s not the only reason I needed to get away—far from it. I’m coming to that. And to how I got the use of the house. If you still want me to tell you, that is?”
Oscar sat back against the sofa, wide-eyed.
“Well of course I do! Forget sleeping with Ian Beale. This is better than a Sunday omnibus ofEastEnders,Hollyoaks, andCorrieall rolled into one!”
Four
I stood outside the art gallery the next day waiting for Maddie, still mulling over my argument with David.
I knew things hadn’t felt right between us for a while, but I always thought I’d be able to get past his little idiosyncrasies—especially since David never seemed to have had any issues with my love of the cinema before. But now, after last night’s outburst, I was starting to wonder whether I could go through with this wedding. If Icouldactually make this arrangement work.
Getting married to David was permanent; there was no going back. I mean, in cinema terms, we were talkingFromHeretoEternity,TheFullMonty,DiamondsareForever…
After a few minutes of me torturing myself with every movie I could recall with a forever theme, Maddie came floating down the street in a suitably artistic outfit. She wore a long, velvet coat with a burgundy and gold Monsoon dress, and she had completed her look with a large gold butterfly in her hair and gold sandals. So pleased was I to see my best friend again that I even restrained myself from making any comment about sandals in late January.
As we began our quest for artistic and intellectual enlightenment among the many paintings and works of art the galleryhad to offer, I put all thoughts of David from my head. He could wait for another time.
While Maddie stood and scrutinized every single painting and sculpture she came across, reading the small yet informative card that was placed beside it in full, I wandered quickly from exhibit to exhibit, wondering on more than one occasion just how depressed these people must have been to create some of the stuff. If they’d worked in offices and lived in houses just like mine, then perhaps some of their artistic output could be rightly justified.
I was just about to give up the will to live when my eye was drawn to a cluster of paintings at the end of the room; actually, it was one painting in particular that had caught my attention. Unlike all the other exhibits I had passed, this painting was instantly familiar. It was as if it had once hung on a wall in my own home.
I sat down on the bench in front of the painting, and all at once was lost in my own familiar world as I stared up at it. Now this was a piece of art I understood.
