Page 48 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
I smiled now too. “I’m afraid it’s that businessman again,” I said as the lights began to dim in the auditorium.
“Not the bastard one.”
“Yep, that’s him.”
“Then I’m not doing too bad so far,” he whispered as it went dark. “Since I’ve managed to annoy you all night.”
I was about to protest, but the orchestra struck up its first few notes and we were immediately drawn into the lives of Ferrando, Guglielmo, Dorabella, and Fiordiligi once more.
***
“Thank you,” I said to Sean as we traveled back to Notting Hill in a black cab. “The opera was fantastic.”
“My pleasure. I’m glad you enjoyed it. At least it’s taken your mind off your various quests for a while.”
I thought for a moment. “Yes, I suppose that’s what they are, aren’t they? Two very different personal quests.”
“So what will you do about Bill?” Sean asked. “You can’t just sit and wait until he comes back to work. If it’s flu and he’s elderly, it could be weeks.”
“What else can I do? I can’t just go in there and demand his telephone number. And they wouldn’t give it to me if I did. They don’t give out that kind of personal information about staff.”
“There must be other things you can try.”
“Like? I’ve visited every other shop in Bond Street now. Fenwick’s and Bill are my last hope.”
“Hmm, let me have a think.” Sean looked out of the window at the passing London streets.
“Youcould always take me back to the shop,” I joked. “Tell them that we would spend an extortionate amount of money in there if they pandered to my every need, spoiled me rotten,andgave us Bill’s telephone number!”
“We could try that, I suppose,” Sean said, mulling it over. “I’m not sure it would work, though.”
I laughed. Now that I’d met Sean, my father’s lack of movie experience suddenly didn’t seem quite so odd. “Oh, Sean, you reallydohave to start going to the cinema sometime soon; you’re starting to remind me of my father.”
“Why? Oh right, was that another movie scene?”
“PrettyWomanagain.”
“Do you particularly like that one? You seem to mention it a lot.”
“Yes, it’s quite good. I’ve seen it several times.”
I hoped Sean didn’t want me to pinpoint a number. Double figures for any film would seem obsessive to him. And I hada feeling thatPrettyWoman, likeNottingHill, might soon be approaching the triple-figure mark.
“So what’s your favorite one?” Sean asked to my relief. “Romantic film, I mean?”
“Ooh, that’s a good question,” I said, thinking. “There’s so many of them I like. I mean I loveNottingHill—that was one of the reasons I wanted to come here. But I don’t really have just one favorite.” I thought some more. “There is a scene from a movie I really love, though…it’s a bit odd because it’s not the sort most people would usually choose as their favorite.”
“Why, what happens?” Sean asked, sounding interested in my movie talk for once.
I hesitated. “It’s fromLoveActually—but it’s kind of difficult to explain. It involves this chap telling a girl he loves her, without actually speaking once.”
Sean looked puzzled. “How does he do that?”
“With signs.”
“Signs?” Sean said, the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch.
“You’d have to watch the film to understand properly,” I said, wishing I’d never mentioned it.
