Page 46 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
“Sorry, yes, of course. Oh, wait, I almost forgot, the other reason I came round. Are you doing anything tonight?”
“Apart from my bath, and a date with Brad Pitt—nothing, really.”
“Brad?”
I grinned at him. “It’s a joke. I was going to watchMr. & Mrs. Smithon DVD tonight.”
“Oh right, I see.” Sean nodded but I still wasn’t sure he understood what I was talking about. “It’s just some friendsof mine have given me tickets to the opera this evening, and I wondered if you’d like to go.”
“Thanks, Sean, but I don’t really know anyone who likes the opera that I could take.”
“No—I meant would you like to accompany me?”
I blushed. Of course he did.
“Oh, yes, I guess I could. Would I have to dress up? Only you know I don’t have that kind of garb with me.”
“No, it’s not an opening night—there’s no dress code. What about the outfit you wore to the wedding on Saturday? You looked good in that.”
I thought for a moment and was about to say, “But you called me Red in that outfit,” when something occurred to me. This got better and better. I might not be having any luck finding my mother, but I could sense anotherPrettyWomanopportunity on the horizon. Two in one week!
“Well, in that case, I should be delighted to accompany you to the opera tonight, Sean.”
OrshouldIcallyouRichard…
Thirteen
We arrived at the theater in plenty of time and decided to have a drink in the bar before the show.
While I was waiting for Sean to come back with our drinks I wandered over to a display cabinet of posters and programs advertising the show we were about to see:Così fan tutte. I was using any diversionary tactic I could to put all thoughts of Sean as Brad Pitt out of my mind—and actually it was proving much easier than it should have been considering he’d turned up this evening wearing anotherOcean’s-inspired suit. As I stared at the glass, I was trying to picture him as Richard Gere and me as Julia Roberts to go with the theme of the evening. But this was proving far from the easy task it usually was. I seemed to be struggling with all my fantasies, both wanted and unwanted, and I couldn’t figure out why.
“So,” Sean asked when he’d finally fought his way back from the bar with a glass of white wine for me and a beer for himself, “is this your first opera?”
I wanted to reply, “Why, of course not. Opera, ballet, and the theater are the staple diet of my life when I’m back in Stratford.” But Sean knew me better than that. “Yes, it is, actually.”
“Opera is a bit like Marmite,” he said knowingly. “You either love it or hate it.”
That was hardly what Richard had said to Julia.
“Right, and I’m assuming you…love it?”
Sean nodded. “Should I tell you a little of what this opera is about?”
“Go on, then.”
“Roughly translated,Cosifantuttemeans ‘they’re all like that.’ It tells the story of two men who think their fiancées will always remain loyal. But this chap wagers them that the women won’t and says he can prove to them he’s right. As part of the bet, the two men pretend to be sent off to battle, but instead disguise themselves and return to try and woo each other’s girlfriend.”
“Sounds different.”
“It’s good, a bit like one of your romantic comedies, I suppose. Except it’s happening live in front of you, not up on some huge flat screen.”
“I’ll reserve my judgment until I’ve seen it for myself,” I said with indifference. “But I’ll give anything a go once, and I like Mozart, so it can’t be that bad.”
“You—like Mozart?” Sean asked, looking surprised.
“Yeah, why shouldn’t I?”
“No reason. Yet again you surprise me, Scarlett. The libretto—that’s the text of the piece, rather than the music—was originally written for Mozart’s colleague, but he didn’t complete it, so Mozart took over.”
