Page 49 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually (Actually #1)

But now I have been given a chance to pass this on to you. I hope you will understand that although I may not have been with you in person on these very special days, I never forgot my little girl.

Mum x

I read the letter through one more time before placing it to one side, and as I carefully picked up the box covered in the pink rabbit paper, I noticed my hands were shaking. The tag attached to the present read—

On your 1st birthday.

I hesitated. I knew that by opening up this box I was going to be opening up so much more than just a gift.

Cautiously I peeled the paper off the box. Inside there was a tiny red teddy bear. I looked at the label around its neck. My name is Scarlett bear , it proudly announced, Please look after me .

I held the teddy close to my face for a moment and closed my eyes. Then I sat it down carefully next to me, so we could do the rest of the present-opening together.

You are 2! the next gift declared. Inside this one was a soft cloth book, Amelia’s Alphabet . The front cover had a picture of Amelia—a cheerful-looking rag doll, with ringlets and a red checked dress.

There followed a succession of toys just perfect for a toddler.

Then there were more books, a wooden game, and a real rag doll, who looked very much like Amelia.

Then we moved into my teens—where I opened cassettes, and then CDs, of music that strangely I had actually liked when I’d been that age.

Some jewelry followed, and a tiny jewelry box, a small evening bag, a couple more books, some earrings, and a bracelet.

Then the final few—a beaded makeup bag, an ornate photo frame, and a beautiful silk scarf.

When finally I came to the last present, I held it carefully in my hands.

The last few minutes had been like traveling through time at supersonic speed, watching my life unfold in front of me.

The truth was, every single present my mother had bought for me was something I knew I would have loved at that age; she’d got it spot on every time. I peeled the paper off the last gift as carefully as I’d opened all the others, trying to rip it as little as possible.

Inside this one was a small red velvet box.

I gently lifted the lid and found inside a heart-shaped locket.

I could tell the locket wasn’t brand new, because it had that slight tarnish all antique silver has.

I lifted it up in my fingers to examine it; it was surprisingly heavy, and the floral engraving on it was exquisite.

There was a tiny note caught inside the box lid. Carefully I pried it out.

Dear Scarlett,

I wore this necklace on my wedding day, as did your grandmother many years before me. I don’t know why this of all years it seems the right time to give it to you. But something tells me in my heart that perhaps it is.

So happy 23rd birthday, my darling, I hope this year is the year that true love will cast its spell upon you.

Mum x

I cradled the locket in my hand for a few more seconds before folding up the note, placing it inside the box, and firmly closing the lid.

Then I placed it down alongside all the other twenty-two gifts, which now sat in a huge semicircle around me on the floor. Each gift sat upon the carefully folded wrapping paper it had been encased in for so many years.

I looked slowly along the line from start to finish before I returned to my first birthday once more. I picked up the little red teddy and held it up against my face again.

And it was then that I began to cry.

***

I must have sat there on the floor sobbing for at least twenty minutes before I was finally able to compose myself.

I then packed all the gifts away as carefully as I could back into the box, quickly went to the bathroom to clean up my mascara-streaked face, then grabbed my coat and bag and headed out of the front door.

As I hurried along the pavement I rummaged in my bag for a piece of paper. Once found, I glanced at it briefly before shoving it in my coat pocket .

I walked down into the depths of Notting Hill Gate station. I found the correct line on the map up on the wall and then had to sit patiently on the tube train for a few stops, before I could alight and go back up into the fresh air once more.

I pulled the piece of paper from my pocket, glanced at it again, and then had to ask for further directions before winding my way along a few more streets, eventually arriving at a block of flats.

I looked up momentarily at the towering gray building in front of me before I hurried into its core. I had to wait while I rose up excruciatingly slowly in the lift until the light above my head lit with the number 5, and the doors jolted open.

It was after I had made my way along a dark and dingy corridor that I finally found what I was searching for.

I took a deep breath before knocking purposefully on the door of flat no. 504.

After a few seconds the door swung open and Rose stood staring at me in astonishment.

“Scarlett, what are you doing here so soon?” she said, her expression one of concern.

My voice quivered as I tried to speak.

“What on earth is wrong?” Rose asked in alarm. “What’s happened?”

Tears began to fall from my eyes. “M…Mum,” I just managed to utter before the tears cascaded down my cheeks in a tidal wave of emotion.

“Oh, Scarlett,” Rose said, clasping her hand to her mouth, as tears began to spring from her own eyes now. “What’s changed?”

“I have,” I sobbed, running toward her.

And it was then, for the first time in my life, that I hugged my mother.