Page 27 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
“Not as silly as you’re going to feel when I do this.” Sean pulled some keys from his pocket and held them under the streetlight to select one. Then he walked along the railings to the gate, calmly placed the key in the lock, and turned it so the gate swung open. Closing it securely behind him, he walked over to where I stood.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a key to get in here?” I demanded.
“You never asked.”
In frustration, I turned and marched away from him, but I stopped abruptly when I saw a bench. It was only visible in the darkened park because the moon that sat high in the clear night sky cast a luminescent glow over it.
Sean caught up with me. “What is it?” he asked. “What have you seen?”
I walked silently over to the bench. I ran my hand gently along its back before slowly and purposefully sitting down on it.
Sean followed me.
“What on earth are you doing? First you break into private property and now, on a cold February evening, you’re going to sit outside on a park bench?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” I replied, dreamily thinking of Hugh and Julia sitting on this bench together. It could have been the same one for all I knew.
“Try me,” Sean challenged, sitting down beside me.
I wondered whether I should try to explain it all to him. He would probably just mock me again.
The answer you give now, Sean, will decide whether I go with you to the wedding on Saturday.
“It’s from the movieNottingHill.”
“I should have known.” But Sean must have seen irritation flicker across my face because he added, “OK…which part?”
“One of the most romantic parts,” I said warily. “This is one of the most memorable scenes from the film, when Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts sit on a bench together in a park just like this one. The song that is sung at that point is beautiful too—it’s one of my favorites.”
“It all sounds…lovely.”
I looked skeptically at Sean, but he wasn’t being sarcastic for once. He was genuinely trying to say something that wouldn’t offend me.
“It is actually—it’s very romantic. But I don’t suppose Ronan Keating is your cup of tea really, is he?”
Sean wrinkled his nose. “Not really, no. But I’ve heard him singing that song before, if that helps?”
“Well, that’s a start.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
Our eyes met in the same way they had over the dining table earlier.
“About the wedding, Sean…”
“Don’t worry,” he said, holding his hand up. “I told you, you don’t have to come.”
“No, I do,” I insisted. “Your sister would be so disappointedif I didn’t go. She’s going to so much trouble to help me—I can’t let her down now.”
“Yes, of course, you’re absolutely right,” Sean said keenly, resting his hand on the back of the bench. “We really should go through with this weekend for Ursula, shouldn’t we?”
“Yes,” I agreed, smiling at him now. “Let’s put our own feelings aside. We’ll go to this wedding together, simply to keep your sister happy. What other reason would there be for us to go all the way to Glasgow together?”
For a moment Sean was silent. “No other reason, Scarlett,” he said eventually, shaking his head. “No other reason whatsoever.”
Seven
We decided to travel up to Glasgow by train. We could have flown; Sean seemed quite happy to pay for tickets with whatever airline had the best last-minute flights available. Unlike David, who never booked anything last minute, because in his opinion there was always money to be saved “with a little forward thinking.”
