Page 23 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
Brooke waved casually.
“And finally next to her we have Ursula—my best and dearest friend.”
Ursula smiled warmly at Oscar, then equally warmly at me. She had sandy-colored shoulder-length hair, pale blue eyes that were just as warm as her smile, and she was wearing a dress covered in daisies that looked like it was from the 1950s. But what really made me take an instant shine to her was the fact that Ursula looked like a delightful combination of a young Emma Thompson and, my all-time favorite, Kate Winslet.
“Hi, how are you?” she asked. “I’m also an interiordesigner—since everyone else got their full title. Not just a professional friend to Oscar.”
There were a few chuckles around the room, so gratefully I returned her smile while trying not to stare at her too much.
“Well, that’s everyone,” Oscar sang.
“Ahem.” Sean cleared his throat behind us.
“Scarlett’s metyoualready, hasn’t she? Oh, very well,” Oscar sighed, when Sean silently raised his eyebrows at him. “Scarlett, this is Sean. Sean is only here because he’s Ursula’s brother, and I needed someone at short notice to make up the numbers.”
Sean grinned. “Thank you for that kind introduction, Oscar; the feeling is mutual, as you know.”
Oscar tossed his head and made a “hmph” sort of noise.
I found myself smiling at Sean.
He grinned back as Oscar flounced off into the kitchen calling something about more wine being needed.
***
I had wondered, after I’d been introduced to everyone at the start of the evening, just what I’d let myself in for, having dinner with this eclectic bunch of people. But I needn’t have worried because the evening turned out to be full of thought-provoking conversation, lots of laughter, and extremely good food. (Which Oscar later admitted he’d had catered in, because of the short notice.)
The chocolate brownies were particularly mouth-watering.
“Oh no!” Oscar cried when he noticed they’d all been eaten. “There’s none left; we can’t do it now!”
“Do what, Oscar?” Brooke asked. I’d been quite wrong about Brooke—she ate just like everyone else did, even tucking into the brownies with lashings of vanilla ice cream on top.
Oscar looked at me. “Can I tell them, Scarlett?”
“About the brownies?” I asked, bemused.
“No, about why you’rereallyhere?”
I looked at the others listening expectantly around the table. All except Sean, who lolled back in his chair drinking red wine.
“I don’t see why not.”
My plan to let people think I was house-sitting for a month just didn’t seem to be working out. But after meeting Oscar, and hearing everybody else’s life stories tonight, my little “obsession,” as everyone at home seemed to think it was, seemed quite normal.
“Oh, are you some sort of secret agent?” Ursula asked excitedly.
I laughed. “No.”
“Ooh, ooh, I like guessing games,” Brooke said. “An undercover police officer?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“On the run from gangsters then?” Patrick called from across the table.
“They’re not drugs barons, are they?” Lucian added eagerly.
“Er no, look, I really don’t think you—”
