Page 4 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually (Actually #1)

I thought about the wedding planner that David’s parents had insisted we hire to help us plan for our big day. Or Cruella, as I’d renamed her. I could feel stress beginning to seep into my body at the thought.

It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if my wedding planner had been at all like Jennifer Lopez from the film of the same name, as I’d envisaged.

Or even Martin Short in Father of the Bride , just for the comedy value.

But no, my wedding planner was more like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada crossed with Glenn Close playing Cruella De Vil in 101 Dalmatians .

“So,” I said, quickly changing the subject away from my own wedding which was never something I chose to dwell on for too long, “when are we going to see each other? When have you got a window for me in your busy schedule? ”

Maddie laughed. “Don’t be daft, Scarlett, you know I always have time for you. How about this weekend?”

“I could do tomorrow,” I said, thinking it would get me out of David’s planned trip to a DIY warehouse he’d found on the Internet that did discount prices in tiles.

What were we supposed to be looking at this time?

Was it floor tiles for the kitchen, or wall tiles for the bathroom? I could never remember.

“What would you like to do, Maddie?”

“I don’t know, Scarlett, why don’t you decide—wait, as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with the movies.”

“As if!” I said, trying to sound affronted. “I do have other interests.”

Maddie laughed. “Scarlett O’Brien, I could count on one hand the times we’ve got together and you’ve chosen what we’re doing and it’s not been movie-related.

If I have to sit through Thelma we’d had similar conversations many a time. “No, Scarlett, I wouldn’t. Been there, done that, I’m afraid. I’m quite happy with what life’s dealt me now, you know that. And can I remind you while we’re at it just how that film ends?”

There was no point in arguing with her. Maddie was a super-organized, practical person, who’d made just about everything in her life happen for herself.

She didn’t believe in fate, destiny, or any of my “airy-fairy” nonsense as she put it, even though she’d met her own fiancé, Felix, in the strangest of places.

And you don’t get much stranger than on top of one of the parade floats at Disneyland Paris.

“OK, OK, you win. I know there’s no point in arguing with you. Plus,” I said, looking at my watch again, “if I don’t get to a restaurant soon, I might not have a wedding of my own to organize…” My voice trailed off as I wondered for a moment if that might not be such a bad thing.

“What on earth do you mean, Scarlett?” Maddie asked. “Where are you now? Wait, let me guess—at the cinema, right, just for a change?”

“ Yes , I am standing outside a cinema, but only because I was here fixing a popcorn machine. I got called out on an emergency.”

Maddie snorted with laughter. “Only you could call fixing a popcorn machine an emergency!”

“It was for the manager—his cinema is very important to him.” I could feel myself starting to get irritated by yet another person’s apparent lack of regard for what I, and now also George, it seemed, considered important in life.

But I didn’t want to start an argument with Maddie—I didn’t have time.

“Look, Maddie, I really do have to go. David is waiting for me at a restaurant. What are we going to do this weekend? You pick something if you don’t think I can.”

There was silence at the end of the line for a moment and I just knew that one of Maddie’s more wacky ideas was about to be revealed. Well, it would seem wacky and off-the-wall to me, but completely sane and normal to Maddie.

“How do you fancy an art gallery?” came back her casual reply .

“An art gallery?” I answered cautiously. Our hometown of Stratford-upon-Avon was famous for many things but art wasn’t usually one of them.

“Yes, there’s a touring exhibition I’d quite like to go and see. It’s only here for a week.”

“A touring exhibition of…?”

“Russian Jewish painters.”

There it was—the sting in the tail. “The Madness of Maddie,” as I liked to call it, escaping once more.

I’m sure there were plenty of fine works of art by both Jewish and Russian artists, but I couldn’t think of any off the top of my head.

Why couldn’t it have been a Monet exhibition or even the guy that cut off his ear?

At least I knew some of his paintings—but I had to admit that was only really because I’d once watched an old movie about him that starred Kirk Douglas.

But it had been so long since I’d seen her properly that I decided even a day looking at obscure paintings would be worth enduring.

“Right then, you’re on; the art gallery it is. I’m supposed to be going DIY shopping with David tomorrow but it should be OK—especially since there’s no films involved either.”

Maddie laughed. “Yes, Scarlett. Even you can’t find anything to do with movies at an exhibition of Russian Jewish art.”

***

“And did you find anything?” Oscar asked, bringing me back to the present day again. “And what about the meal, Scarlett? You still haven’t told me whether you made it on time. ”

I couldn’t believe someone was finding my mundane life so interesting. “All in good time, Oscar,” I smiled. “I’m just coming to that.”