Page 6 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
David looked at his watch. “You’ve got one hour, Scarlett, so no daydreaming. I know what you’re like once you get inside a cinema. You’re bad enough out of one.”
I smiled at the departing taxi. No daydreaming, indeed. As if I would. Ahem.
***
“So you mend popcorn machines for a living?” Oscar inquired politely, when I paused to see if I was still keeping his interest.
“My father and I jointly own a small company that supplies popcorn machines to cinemas, but I do all the call outs when there’s a problem. David’s business is movie-related too—his family owns a large chain of cinemas.”
“Oh really?” Oscar said, starting to sound bored. “So come on, you’re not going to stop there, are you, darling? What happened next? Did you manage to fix the popcorn machine and still make it to the restaurant on time? Or did you start daydreaming once you got to the cinema?”
Hmm. Oscar had only known me for an hour or so, and already he knew me a bittoowell.
***
As I climbed out of the taxi at the front doors of the cinema I rummaged for my purse to pay the fare.
“I sometimes think this thing must have belonged to Mary Poppins once,” I joked with the taxi driver as I groped about in the depths of my bag.
“Bit dressed up for the cinema, aren’t you?” he quipped, determinedly ignoring my joke. I looked down at what I was wearing. My theater attire, although not quite the Stella McCartney gown I’d fantasized about earlier, was a very nice black and white shift dress from Zara.
“I’m not going to see a film actually,” I informed him, asat last I found my purse and thrust a £10 note through the window of the taxi. “I’m here to fix their popcorn machine.” And without waiting for a response, I rushed purposefully into the cinema like a paramedic on her way to tend an emergency.
“Scarlett, thank the Lord you’re here,” George panted as we rushed across the foyer together. “It just packed up again—there was a sort of sizzling noise and then nothing. The Movie Club’s holding their AGM tonight—they simplymusthave popcorn!”
“Don’t panic, George,” I said calmly. “I’m sure I’ll be able to sort it out.” I knelt down behind the machine and began to examine the familiar inner workings with the toolkit George had prepared for me.
I loved George. He looked just like Jack Black, only a quieter and much more reserved version of the Hollywood actor. He was a brilliant cinema manager, always keeping me up to date on what new movies were coming out, and he always knew just which ones I’d enjoy watching. He was more like a friend than a business contact, so I hadn’t minded at all rushing over to the cinema to help him out that evening.
“Is she going to be all right?” he asked after a couple of minutes, peering worriedly over my shoulder.
“She, George?” I asked without turning my attention away from the machine.If I just tighten up that nut, then we should be in business again.
“Er, yes. She’s been with me for a while, has Poppy.”
I bit hard on my lip. “Poppy? You’ve given the machine a name, George?”
“Scarlett, you know how important this cinema is to me. We’re like one big happy family here, including all my machines.”
“Yep, one big happy family, that’s what we are!”
I looked up and saw Marcus, one of the cinema attendants, dispensing Fanta into a plastic cup next to me. He winked. “Isn’t that right, Naomi?”
Naomi passed a packet of Maltesers across the counter to a customer. “Hmm?” she asked distractedly as she opened the till to get change. “What’s that, Marcus?”
“George reckons we’re just one big ol’ happy family here at the cinema.”
Naomi rolled her eyes and carried on serving her customers and I felt sorry for George. He obviously loved this cinema in a way that no one else understood. Probably in the way that I loved movies in a way that no one else seemed to understand either.
“There you go, George, all sorted,” I said, closing up the back of the machine. I brushed some stray pieces of popcorn off my dress as I stood up behind the counter. “Best keep an eye on it though—it…I mean she could still be a bit temperamental. Erm, George…” I thought I’d better tread carefully, so I lowered my voice. “It’s possible we may have to replace Poppy soon. She is getting quite old, you know, and we do have some lovely newer models.”
George looked horrified. “Newer models—but what’s wrong with Poppy? She’s done me well up until now, why would I want to trade her in for a new model?”
“Let’s just see how she goes, eh, George?” I said gently. “I’ve patched her up for now, but how much longer she’ll run for…”
“Sure, Scarlett,” George said, and he patted Poppy lovingly as white fluffy popcorn began dancing about inside her glass cabinet again. “I understand.” He turned to me. “I’ll give you acall if there’s any change in her condition. I guess I’ll be seeing you pretty soon, though—the new Hugh Grant movie’s out next week.”
I nodded eagerly. “You know me too well, George. I’ll be in to see it one evening or even one afternoon if I can get away from work for a couple of hours.”
