Page 47 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually (Actually #1)

I hardly slept that night. It was not surprising really after what had happened to me earlier on.

I’d rung Ursula almost as soon as Rose had left and briefly told her what had gone on. I didn’t feel like speaking to anyone, but I knew if I didn’t they would phone me anyway. So I quickly got that call out of the way and settled down to do some serious thinking.

There was so much that was still unclear.

So I now knew the reasons why my mother had left.

Perhaps I didn’t fully understand them, but I knew more than I’d ever known before.

But it was my father’s behavior that was puzzling me more than anything.

If he’d lost my mother all those years ago, why would he encourage David to do the same thing to me?

Did he really think that lightning wouldn’t strike twice?

I tossed and turned in my bed, going over and over all the possible scenarios that my next move might bring forth.

First, I had to decide whether I wanted to see Rose again—and my answer to that dilemma was an immediate yes.

There were still so many questions I wanted answers to that I couldn’t wave good-bye to her just yet.

Though I couldn’t imagine us ever being best friends like some mothers and daughters were.

But she seemed likeable enough, for all her faults, and I wanted to spend more time getting to know her better.

I was going to have to speak to my father about all this at some point. But I didn’t know how he would react when I told him about Rose. What if he tried to stop me from seeing her?

My father couldn’t actually stop me from doing anything I wanted to—I knew that.

I was, after all, a fully functioning adult.

Although right at this moment I felt far from that as I huddled beneath my bedclothes like a frightened child, hugging my knees tightly into my chest and hiding away from the scary world outside.

But I couldn’t risk upsetting Dad over this—the emotional stakes were too high. No, I’d have to wait until after my time in Notting Hill was over and I’d returned home. Then I’d be able to tell him everything that had happened and ask him all the questions I wanted.

***

The next morning I called Rose. I lifted and lowered the phone from my ear at least five times before finally I was able to summon up the courage to dial the number and let the call go through.

Surprisingly she answered straight away. “Scarlett, how wonderful, I didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon.”

“I was wondering if you were busy today. I mean, if you’re working it doesn’t mat— ”

“No, not busy at all. I don’t have a shift at the cinema until this evening. Would you like to meet up again?”

Part of me was hoping she was busy. “Yes, I would, if it’s OK with you…I thought maybe we could meet in Kensington Gardens…or somewhere else if that’s not suitable?”

“The Gardens would be lovely. What time?”

“Is eleven too early?”

“Eleven is just fine. Do you know the Peter Pan statue?” she asked. “I could meet you there.”

I didn’t. “Peter Pan, sure, no problem. I’ll see you later then.”

“I’ll look forward to it, Scarlett.”

She hung up.

I sighed heavily as I collapsed back against the scatter cushions on the settee. “Oh, Dad,” I said out loud to the empty room. “If only you knew just what you’d started…”