Page 139 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
“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 isreallife, inrealLondon 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. Therewillbe 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 tableswaiting 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.Seanismoreimportantthanthecinema. “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 suitand 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.
