Page 134 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
I noticed that Oscar, Ursula, and some of the other guests had joined us outside to see what all the fuss was about.
Dermot rummaged in his pocket for a piece of paper, then took a quick look at it before stuffing it back in his pocket again.
“So, now we need to ask you how you feel?”
“What?”
“How…do…you…feel?” Dermot repeated slowly as if I was hard of hearing.
“At…this…very…moment?” I repeated in the same tone of voice. “Extremely confused.”
“Not angry?”
“No.”
“Not cross.”
“No.”
“Irritated?”
“No—but I’m going to be in a moment if you don’t get on with it!”
“Good, then we can give you this. Finlay?” Dermot held out his hand and Finlay pulled a red envelope from his jacket and passed it to him. With a flourish Dermot passed it to me. “Mr. Bond said if you reacted in the right way to the song then we were to give you this.”
“What is it?” I asked, turning the envelope over in my hands.
“We’re not privy to that sort of information, miss. We were simply instructed to give you this if you seemed at all moved by the music we played. Just as well you like Ronan Keating, eh? Lucky you’re not a full-on thrash metal fan, or we might have had a different result on our hands!” Dermot and Finlay both laughed at his joke.
“Er…yes.” I looked down at the envelope. “Should I open it now?”
“I guess so. Well,we’reinterested to know what’s in it anyway, aren’t we, Finlay?” Dermot turned to his silent partner. “We’ve never had a booking like this before.”
Finlay nodded.
“I guess I’d better open this.” I turned and looked back at the others. “I’m assuming that’s OK with everyone?”
Everyone nodded with enthusiasm except David, who stood motionless next to the group now crowding around me.
Slowly I opened the envelope.
Inside there was a postcard and, underneath that, a ticket. I didn’t look at the picture on the postcard because handwritten on the other side in black ink were the words—
If you feel the same…
Meet me on top of the London Eye tomorrow.
I’ll wait until midday.
S x
I read the card aloud.
“What does he mean—the top of the London Eye, Scarlett?” my father asked, speaking for the first time. “Why would Sean want to meet you there? And how can he meet you at the top? Isn’t it constantly revolving?”
“It’s like the movie, isn’t it?” my mother said, smiling. “AnAffairtoRemember.’”
“I thought that wasSleeplessinSeattle?” Maddie asked, joining in. “Meg Ryan tries to meet Tom Hanks on top of the Empire State Building.”
