Page 53 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually (Actually #1)

I hurried down the road until I came to the black railings that surrounded the gardens, and after checking quickly around me, I hoisted myself up and over the bars in exactly the same place I had the night I’d met Sean.

I was grateful I hadn’t worn the dress I’d been thinking about wearing earlier tonight, and had plumped instead for a pair of smart black trousers and a sparkly top, otherwise the maneuver could have been a lot trickier.

I landed on the other side with a thud and toppled sideways into a bush—luckily for me one of the non-thorny varieties; my stiletto heels were not an ideal platform for landing on soft ground.

“Damn,” I mumbled, as I scrambled to my feet again and brushed my trousers down.

“If only I’d had my keys with me I could have saved myself all this mountaineering lark.

” I had found out after my first visit here with Sean that Belinda and Harry too had a key to this little park.

But of course my diva-like exit from the house tonight hadn’t allowed me the luxury of collecting keys. I was lucky to have a coat on.

So now I was in here, what was I going to do?

I found the wooden bench that Sean and I had rested on a few weeks earlier and sat down.

I was starting to feel very guilty at just storming out and leaving everyone to sort out the trouble I’d caused.

But it was too late to go back now; I’d acted on the spur of the moment, and now I would have to suffer the consequences.

I wondered what was happening back at the house.

I hope Sean remembers to take the meat out of the oven , I thought, suddenly panicking about the carefully prepared dinner. But it was hardly likely that anyone would be tasting it tonight after what had just gone on, so I suppose it didn’t really matter…as long as it didn’t set light to the house…

“Stop it, Scarlett,” I admonished myself. “You’ve got more than a burned dinner to worry about now.”

I was right for once. What I’d done tonight was unforgivable. I’d put everyone at the dinner party in an awkward position, and I wouldn’t blame any of them if they never wanted to speak to me again—particularly my parents.

“Oh, poor Mum.” I buried my face in my hands as I recalled the expression on her face as she’d looked around at everyone in the hallway staring at her.

And Dad. How was I ever going to explain all this to him?

I rested my head on the back of the bench and looked up at the sky.

It was a clear night and I could see the stars twinkling above me.

It was just like the evening I’d sat out here with Sean—the only difference was, that night I’d felt excited and optimistic about the days that lay ahead of me.

Now I only felt sadness that my time here was so rapidly coming to an end and I seemed to have caused so much pain and achieved so little .

I sat on the bench for quite a while just thinking, until my feet began to feel like they were encased in ice, and my hands, even though they were shoved in my pockets, would have sat well on the end of Jack Frost’s arms.

When I’d left the house earlier I’d secretly hoped that someone might come after me. Or that by now I might at least have heard the faraway call of my name floating down the street. But instead I saw no one and heard nothing.

If this had been a movie, the hero would have known right away where to come looking for me. He’d have found me sitting here all alone on my little bench and come along and comforted me in his big strong arms. While everyone else had no idea where I’d gone, my hero would have known straight away.

Perhaps everyone was right? Maybe life never did happen the same way it did in the cinema.

I thought about all of the movie scenes I’d added to my list so far.

Every time I’d tried to orchestrate one of those scenes myself something had gone wrong.

I’d been lucky enough to pick up some coincidental ones along the way, but even those weren’t quite the same as the originals.

Had I just been imagining the similarities for my own benefit?

And now, I’d just made a wonderfully dramatic exit from my house in the dead of the night—in a scene that would have made any director proud—and yet not one person had come looking for me.

I’d have thought at least Sean might have guessed where I was and come to my rescue.

I looked toward the gate hopefully, in case he might be there desperately searching through the railings for me. But sadly he wasn’t. Instead, a bright white light shone through the bars, almost blinding me .

I held my arm up over my eyes.

“Are you OK, miss?” I heard a voice call.

The spotlight was aimed at the ground now, so at least I could see again. I blinked at the railings and saw a young police officer peering through them.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks, officer.”

“What are you doing sitting all alone there in the dark?” he asked, shining his flashlight around the surrounding area.

“Nothing really, officer,” I said, racking my brains for a reason to be here.

The policeman rattled on the gate. “This gate appears to be locked, miss. You do have a key for this park, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, telling the truth. OK, I might not have it on me just now…

“Would you mind coming over here and showing me?” the officer asked.

“Only we get quite a few reports of vandals trying to get in these gardens, so I have to check, you see. It’s all because of that film they made here a few years ago.

I don’t know if you know it at all— Notting Hill , it was called. ”

“Er yes, I do know it.” I got up from the bench and made my way slowly across to the railings. I tried to make small talk while I felt around in my pockets, praying I’d find a key. “It’s a good film, have you seen it?”

“Yeah, several times, my girlfriend loves it. Loves old Hughie boy, more like. We have to go and see every bloody film he’s in.”

“But you must have enjoyed watching Julia Roberts,” I said, stalling for time.

“Yeah, she’s OK. Prefer blondes myself. Cameron Diaz—now she’s much more my cup of tea. ”

My hand struck on something hard—hoorah!

“Here’s my key,” I said, confidently holding up the key to Belinda’s jewelry box.

I’d been having a nose about the house on one of my “down” days a while ago, and had bent the tiny key while trying to get it into the lock on the box.

I’d put it in my pocket to remind me to get a new one cut while I was out.

But then everything had kicked off with my mother, and I’d never got around to it.

The police officer looked doubtfully at the key. “It looks a bit small, miss.”

“No, this is the key. How else would I have got in here otherwise?”

“Perhaps you’d like to open the gate for me then, miss. Then I can leave you be and carry on my way.”

“Er…right then.” Hopefully I tried the tiny key in the lock, praying that it might just “pick” the mechanism and open it. Well, stranger things had happened.

But unfortunately they weren’t going to happen to me tonight.

“Ah, it appears to be stuck,” I said, rattling the key about in the oversized lock.

The police officer raised his eyebrows at me. “I think both of us know that key has never opened up this gate, don’t we, miss?”

I looked down at the ground and made patterns in the dust with my toe.

“I’ll ask you my earlier question again, miss. Just what are you doing in that garden?”

“I do have a key, honestly, Officer. It’s just I came out in a rush—and forgot it.”

“In that case, Miss, just how did you get into the garden tonight? ”

“I climbed over the top,” I mumbled.

“I beg your pardon, miss?”

“I said I climbed over the railings.”

“I think you’d better wait right there, miss.” The officer bent down to his lapel and spoke into his radio. “Bravo One to Charlie Four—I require some assistance at the gardens just off Rosmead.”

“Roger, Bravo One, right with you,” came back the crackly reply.

“Look, I’m not a hooligan or anything like that,” I protested, imagining myself being handcuffed and carted away in the back of a police van. “I really do have a key—I live in Lansdowne Road.”

“Could I see some ID then, please, miss?”

“Yes, of cour—” I reached for my missing bag. “No, I don’t actually have any on me right now.”

“I thought not. If you could just wait there, please, miss.”

I leaned my head against the railings. Could tonight get any worse?

Charlie Four quickly showed up. He was a fair bit older than Bravo One, and although he didn’t quite say, ’ello, ’ello, ’ello, what ’ave we ’ere then?” he might as well have, as he inspected me standing miserably behind the bars. Oh my God, it was like being in prison already!

“What’s all this then, Constable?” he asked Bravo One.

“Well, Sarge, this lady claims she has a key for this park, but she admits to entering it earlier by climbing over the top of the railings.”

“I see. Is this right, miss? ”

“Yes, but—”

“One moment, Miss,” he said, holding up his hand. “Your turn will come. What else, Constable?”

“She also claims to live in Lansdowne Road but doesn’t have any ID on her to prove it.”

“I see. Anything else, Constable?”

“No, Sarge. That is the situation as it appears to me.”

“’Right, miss. Do you wish to add anything to the constable’s statement?”

Didn’t I need a lawyer present before making a statement to the police?

“I guess that’s kind of what happened. But you don’t understand. The reason I don’t have a key or any ID is because I had an argument tonight at home, and I had to come out in a hurry. I’m not a criminal.”

“Is that everything, miss?” the sergeant asked, eyeing me up and down through the railings.

I nodded my head sadly. Wasn’t it enough?

“Right then, you leave us no alternative. Constable, go to work.”

Bravo One looked blankly at his sergeant.

“The equipment, Constable?” Charlie Four demanded. “You do have it?”

Bravo One’s cheeks flushed and then he shrugged and shook his head.