Page 48 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually (Actually #1)

I sat on a bench opposite Peter Pan while I waited for Rose.

I’d got to Kensington Gardens early so I’d be able to find the statue in plenty of time. But it hadn’t been that difficult, as the first person I asked pointed me in the right direction.

I ran my eyes over the statue while I waited.

The Peter in this sculpture appeared to be standing on a tall tree stump playing a set of pipes.

A crowd of fairies, rabbits, and other woodland creatures swarmed around the base of the tree—and I guessed it was probably Tinker Bell who was at the top of the stump looking up at Peter.

It seemed quite apt, in my current situation, to be sitting in front of “the boy who never grew up.” The reason I was waiting here now was because of something that had happened when I was just a baby—something that had never allowed me to completely leave my childhood behind.

While I waited, I watched walkers and joggers pass by, mothers and nannies push prams along the path in front of me, and dog owners allow their mutts to urinate on the gates that surrounded Peter.

Two women wearing baseball hats and tracksuits came running along the path toward me. I expected they’d pass by like all the others, but they paused and leaned on the railings.

“OK, let’s have twenty,” one of the women said to the other as they began to do push-ups while leaning on the wrought iron.

They’d completed twelve when I heard a mobile phone ring. “Oops—really sorry, I’ll just switch that off.” The woman instructing, who I assumed must be a personal trainer, reached into her pocket.

“No need. Take the call…” the other woman panted. “It’ll give me the chance for a break…I’ll still do the last few push-ups, don’t you worry.”

The trainer answered her phone, then wandered a little way away to speak to the caller. Her client finished her push-ups and came and sat down next to me on the bench. Resting her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head down so she could catch her breath.

“She’s working you hard, I see,” I said, partly out of politeness and partly to take my mind off my mother’s imminent arrival.

“Just a bit,” she said, sitting up. “She always does. But that’s what I pay her for; she’s very good.”

We sat in silence for a moment staring at the statue in front of us.

“It’s amazing to think, isn’t it, that that whole story was thought of by a man sitting here on a bench just like we are now,” my companion said, still gazing up at Peter Pan.

I was surprised; people didn’t usually converse with you much in London. Let alone a stranger you’d just met. “Yes, although I have to say I only really know that story because of the movie that was made about it— Finding Neverland . ”

“Yes…I believe I know it.” She paused for a moment. “What did you think of it?”

“It’s a lovely film,” I said, thinking about the movie. “It also stars two of my favorite actors, which helps. And I’ve actually met one of its stars too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, Johnny Depp.”

“And what was he like in real life?”

“Erm…he was cool.”

“Yes, Johnny’s definitely very cool.”

“Oh, have you met him as well?” I was slightly put out my bench buddie wasn’t more impressed at me hobnobbing with a Hollywood A-lister.

“Yes, just a few times.”

“Kate!” The trainer was back on the scene now. “Come on, or your pulse rate will drop out of your ideal training zone.”

My bench buddie turned to me now.

“Glad you enjoyed the movie,” she said, standing up. Then she lifted her hat for a second and winked at me. “And all my other movies too.”

And I sat and watched, aghast, as Kate Winslet and her personal trainer jogged away from me down the path and into Kensington Gardens.

Rose appeared seconds later from the same direction, hurrying along the path toward me.

Out of her cinema uniform she was elegantly dressed again, this time in black trousers, leather boots, and a red wool coat.

She didn’t appear to recognize the Hollywood A-lister who jogged by in her tracksuit and baseball hat any more than I had .

“I’m so sorry. I’m not late, am I?” she asked as she arrived by my side.

“No, you’re fine,” I said, standing up to greet her. “I wasn’t quite sure where Peter was, so I thought I’d better get here early. Though there’s been lots going on to keep me busy.”

“That’s good.” Rose looked up at the bronze sculpture. “You know I used to read Peter Pan to you when you were a baby. I know you were too young to understand, but it was always one of my own favorite stories when I was a child.” She glanced at me.

I didn’t know quite how to respond, so I said nothing.

“Would you like to go for a walk, Scarlett? Or perhaps we could just have a coffee?”

“A walk sounds good.”

We set off together along the path. At first we kept to the safe subjects of the weather, the news, and the people we passed in the park. Then we moved into the semi-safe territory of my life, and I told her about David and Maddie and a bit more about the business.

That led us on to Dad again.

“Have you told him yet?” Rose asked, looking straight ahead. “About me?”

“No, not yet.”

“Will you?”

We had reached the Diana memorial fountain. I stopped walking and watched the tourists taking photos and the people just stopping for a moment’s reflection in the clear flowing water.

“I don’t know. Probably.”

“What do you think he’ll say? ”

I turned to Rose. “I have no idea. I’m not expecting a good reaction, though.”

“Will it cause trouble? Between the two of you, I mean?”

I shrugged. “Possibly—for a while. But Dad’s usually OK about most things in the end. Once he gets used to the idea, that is.”

“The idea?”

“Of me seeing you…” I paused. “I mean if we continue to see each other…in the future.”

“Would you like that, Scarlett?” Rose looked as if she might burst if she had to contain the smile any longer that was so desperate to break free and spread across her expectant face.

“I think so…yes, yes, I would.”

Don’t hug me. Don’t hug me , I silently prayed.

To my great relief she didn’t. Instead, she just allowed her smile to escape at last.

“Oh, Scarlett, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“It doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you or anything like that. For leaving us,” I added, as if she needed reminding.

“No, that goes without saying, of course. Oh, I’m just so happy you feel this way, Scarlett.

I’m glad I brought this with me now.” She held up a large shopping bag.

I’d noticed she’d been carrying it earlier but I hadn’t liked to ask what was inside.

“Here,” she said, handing it to me. “Don’t open it now, have a look when you get home. ”

The bag was quite heavy. “What is it?” I asked, taking a quick peek. Inside was one of those large decorated boxes with a brass-cornered lid and handles, the type you put wedding mementoes in or old photos .

“It’s something I’ve kept for you over the years. No,” she insisted when I tried to lift the lid up inside the bag. “Please look at it later, when you’re back home again.”

“OK, but you’ve got me intrigued now.”

“It’s not much, honestly. Shall we get a drink?” she said, changing the subject. “There’s a little café over there that looks as if it might be open.”

We spent a further hour together in the café, chatting and drinking coffee. And I actually quite enjoyed it. Rose was good company. I think I’d have liked her even if she hadn’t been my mother. In fact, it would have been so much easier if she wasn’t.

I watched her as she sipped her cappuccino.

“What is it?” she asked, noticing my stare.

“It’s nothing, really.” I averted my eyes.

“Scarlett, if this is going to work, I think we’ve got to agree from now on to be honest about everything with each other, yes?”

I nodded reluctantly. “Yes, you’re right, of course.”

“Well then?”

I took a deep breath. “I was thinking that if you were a person I’d just met casually then this would be a lot easier, that’s all.”

“What, you mean easier to like me?”

“I guess so.”

“Then why don’t you pretend that’s what I am for now—just a friend and nothing else.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “And keep calling me Rose if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“I think it would, yes. ”

Rose sat back in her seat and lifted her coffee cup. “I think that deserves a toast, don’t you? Here’s to friendship with a total stranger you met in a cinema, and nothing else!”

I lifted my teacup in agreement. “Yes, here’s to that—nothing more, nothing less…”

***

I went straight back to the house after Rose and I had parted in Kensington Gardens, Rose promising to call me the next day to arrange another meeting.

I didn’t even glance in the direction of Sean’s house as I climbed up the steps and let myself inside. I swiftly dealt with Buster, threw my coat on to the chair in the hall, and then hurried into the lounge to open up Rose’s box.

I don’t know what I expected to find in there—some old diaries maybe, a pair of baby booties, that kind of thing. But what I found as I lifted the lid on the colorful box momentarily took my breath away.

Inside were lots of tiny presents—all gift-wrapped in brightly patterned paper. There was one with pink rabbits hopping about on it, and another with numbers, one that was covered in lipsticks, and the next flowers. All the boxes were small, but all were beautifully wrapped with bows and ribbons.

There was a note lying on top, so I opened it—

My darling Scarlett,

Although I was not able to be with you for any of your birthdays in the past I want you to know that I always thought about you on your special day, and never forgot you.

Every year after I left, I bought you a small gift on your birthday, wrapped it up, and placed it here in this box.

As every year passed and it became fuller, I lost a little more hope that one day you would be able to open the gifts for yourself.