From Notting Hill to New York . . . Actually (14 page)

‘It could be worth more if you had some history with it. Anything with a proven history always sells well at auction.’ She hands me back the dragonfly brooch.

‘Thanks, Harry,’ Jamie says. ‘We really appreciate this.’

‘Anything for you, J,’ Harriet says, smiling coyly at him. ‘Give me a call sometime, yes? And we’ll have that drink you keep promising.’

‘Sure,’ Jamie says, smiling warmly back
at her. ‘I’ve got your number.’

I feel a bit awkward, sitting in the middle of this flirt-off. So I glance around the room and spy a familiar couple hanging on the wall next to me. It’s a photo of Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal.

Harriet sees me looking at it. ‘Are you a fan?’ she asks. ‘It’s signed, take a look.’

I get up and walk over to the photo, and see it’s a still from
When Harry Met Sally
, the scene set in the museum when Harry insists they talk in funny voices for the rest of the day. Of course, that scene must be set in the Met, I’d never thought about it before. I love that film; it’s one of my favourite New York movies, and I see that yes, it is signed at the bottom by each actor.

‘My predecessor was a huge movie fan,’ Harry explains. ‘She was here when they filmed that scene in the museum. She managed to get a couple of stills signed and left me with one as a parting gift.’

‘How lovely of her. I absolutely adore that movie.’

‘Do you? I can’t bear it myself. Meg Ryan is so irritating in any movie she’s in. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a reason to stay away from the cinema if I see she’s the lead actress.’

Perhaps Harriet wasn’t so perfect after all. But then she redeems herself.

‘Would you like it? The photo. I’ve been looking for
a worthy person to donate it to since I moved into this office. But everyone who works here is either too old to care or too young to remember the film.’

‘Are you sure? Won’t they want to keep it at the museum?’

‘No, she gave it to me. I’d like it to go to a good home. And any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of mine.’ She smiles at him again – and is she actually fluttering her eyelashes now? Yes, I think she is.

Oh, so that was it. She was trying to curry favour with Jamie. But if it meant I was going to get the photo …

‘If you’re sure, then of course I’d love to take it off your hands; thank you so much, it’s very kind of you.’

As we leave the Met Museum with a promise to keep Harriet updated on the brooch’s progress, and an added bonus from my visit clutched tightly in my hand in a Met Museum paper bag, we walk towards Central Park and I grin at Jamie.

‘What?’ he asks.

‘She likes you.’

‘Who, Harry?’

‘Knew who I meant then!’ I tease, pointing my finger at him.

‘Ha, you got me. Yes, I knew who you meant. I know. She’s been trying to get me to take her out for ages.’

‘Why don’t you then?’

‘She’s
a fair bit older than me, for one.’

‘Is she? How old are you?’

‘Twenty-four.’

I’m surprised at this; I thought Jamie was at least my age, if not a bit older. He seems very mature for his age.

‘Did that surprise you?’ he asks. ‘It does most people.’

‘A bit, yes; I thought you were about my age or older, even. I’ve just turned twenty-six.’

‘Good of you to admit that,’ Jamie grins. ‘Most women don’t like to. But seriously, I think the age thing comes from being an only child and living with my mother. I had to grow up fast.’

‘Yes, I know that feeling, remember.’

‘And I am one of
Morning Sunshine
’s younger reporters.’

‘So that’s why you won’t take Harriet out, because of the age gap?’ We’ve entered Central Park now, and everywhere you look there are people biking, walking, roller-blading or just sitting quietly, basking in the New York City sunshine. It’s just like you see on the TV or in a movie, but I’m too intrigued at this moment by Jamie to take it all in fully.

‘That, and the fact that she’s not really my type. Shall we go this way?’ Jamie asks, changing the subject and pointing in the direction of a path. ‘Where are you meeting Oscar again?’

‘Strawberry Fields.’ I take
a quick glance at my watch. ‘But not for ages yet.’ I’d given Oscar plenty of time to get over his hangover before insisting he brave the bright sun of the day.

‘Great, I’ll take you for a quick tour. You’ll love Central Park. So many movies have been set here, you wouldn’t believe.’

While Jamie and I walk through Central Park, he shows me all the places that I recognise instantly from the many movies I’ve watched over the years. From classics like
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
and
Kramer vs. Kramer
, to romantic comedies such as
You’ve Got Mail
and
When Harry met Sally
. Then there are children’s movies like
Stuart Little
,
Home Alone 2
and
Enchanted
(although I’ve always had quite a soft spot for this film – and for Patrick Dempsey) to comedies such as
Three Men and a Baby
,
Crocodile Dundee
and
Elf
. As we walk through the park the list is never-ending, as is Jamie’s quite incredible cinematic knowledge. We pause at what appears to be an old-style funfair and look down at the brightly coloured rides twirling their passengers around in the brilliant sunshine.

‘In the winter months this is the Wollman Rink,’ Jamie informs me. ‘You’ll remember it from movies like
Love Story
,
Kate & Leopold
,
Maid in Manhattan
…’

‘And
Serendipity
,’ I add, staring wistfully down at the bustling area which at the moment it is hard to imagine ever being anything so cool
and graceful as a skating rink. ‘It’s one of my favourite New York movies.’

‘Of course, how could I forget
Serendipity
.’

‘Everything happens for a reason,’ we both say at the same time, and then we look at each other.

I grin at Jamie. ‘Don’t tell me you believe that too? It’s one of my favourite sayings.’

He shrugs. ‘Not really, but it’s a good one to choose if you’re going to believe in that kind of stuff.’

‘So how come you know so much about movies?’ I ask. ‘I’ve been impressed with your very extensive knowledge while we’ve been walking around the park.’

‘Are you taking the Michael, Miss O’Brien?’ Jamie asks, looking at me suspiciously.

‘No, not at all. I think you probably know more than I do about them, and that’s saying a lot, I can tell you!’

‘I don’t know; I’ve always liked movies, I guess, since I was small. When I was growing up I spent quite a bit of time alone because Mum would be working at night, so movies were my thing. Kept me company, I suppose. Does that sound weird?’

‘No.’ I shake my head knowingly. ‘No, it doesn’t sound weird at all. Oh!’ I look at my watch. ‘Oscar … I’m late!’ I’m about to get my phone out of my bag to text him to say I’m on my way, when I hear my name being called.

‘Scarlett, wherefore
art thou, my darling Scarlett!’

What on earth?

Jamie and I both turn in the direction the voice is coming from. It’s slightly distorted, and sounds like it’s being projected over a loudspeaker.

‘This way,’ Jamie says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the main road that encircles the whole of the park.

As we stand watching cyclists coming towards us along the one-way system that operates around the perimeter, they are joined by joggers, roller-bladers and some of the many horse-drawn carriages that take tourists for sightseeing trips around the park. And it’s from aboard one of these carriages that we hear my name being called again.

‘Scarlett, wherefore art thou?’

It couldn’t just be one of the plainer carriages that my name was being hollered from. Oh no, it had to be one of the really fancy white ones, the type that honeymoon couples hire, or that people propose to each other in. And as it approaches, dramatically hanging off the side with a megaphone in his hand is Oscar.

‘Scarlett, darling, when I’m calling
yooouuu
-ooohooooh,’ he sings down the megaphone.

‘Oscar!’ I wave furiously at him from the side of the road, my face flushing like a tomato.

‘
Darling
, there you are,’ he calls, still talking into the megaphone. ‘Whoa, Pedro! We’ve found our damsel in distress.’

The horses are brought to a halt,
and as Oscar climbs down from the carriage we walk across to him on the other side of the road.

‘What are you doing?’ I demand. ‘I thought I was meeting you at Strawberry Fields. Why didn’t you just call me?’

‘I couldn’t,’ Oscar booms, still talking into the megaphone. ‘Oops!’ he grins sheepishly, reaching for the off-switch and lowering the megaphone. ‘I couldn’t,’ he begins again. ‘I came out without my phone, then when I’d sat and waited for a while I thought, in my hungover state, that maybe I’d misheard you and got the wrong place, so I decided to try and find you like this.’

‘By hiring a horse and carriage?’ I exclaim, gesturing up at the ornate contraption behind us. ‘There must be easier ways.’

‘Oh, I didn’t hire it, darling. I met Pedro in the bar last night, didn’t I, Peds?’

Pedro lifts his hat and waves from the driver’s seat of the carriage.

‘He said if I was ever by the park to pop by and he’d give me a free ride. You know I never turn down a free ride, Scarlett.’

I hear Jamie cough
from behind me.

‘Hmm … and the megaphone?’ I enquire, looking down at it still clutched in Oscar’s hand.

‘There were a group of cheerleaders having a break as we trotted around, and when I told them what I was doing they said I could borrow it as long as I got it back to them as soon as.’

‘And you think
I
live a mad life?’ I remark, turning back to Jamie. ‘You wanna try being with this one for a few days.’

‘Ah, the infamous Jamie again,’ Oscar says, fixing Jamie with a steely gaze. ‘I should have known you’d be hanging around somewhere in the bushes.’

‘At least I’m not singing my way around Central Park in some sort of Cinderella-meets-Judy-Garland nightmare.’

‘To be compared to the fabulous Judy is the highest of compliments!’ Oscar exclaims with a flourish of his hand. ‘I thank you. Now, who wants a ride before my carriage turns into a pumpkin?’

‘Tempting though that is,’ Jamie says flatly, ‘I need to get to work.’ He turns to me now. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Max in a few minutes to edit our piece on Fleet Week.’

‘Sure, well, thanks again for all your help this morning, Jamie. It was really kind of you to introduce me to Harry and then show me
around the park with a guided movie tour like that.’

‘No worries, any time. Let me know when you find out some more about that brooch of yours, yes?’

‘Sure, I have your number now.’

‘Great, I’ll see you guys later then. Have fun in your pumpkin, Cinders,’ he says with a wave up to Oscar, who is now arranging himself back in the seat of the carriage.

‘I will, Buttons!’ Oscar waves gaily from the seat.

I roll my eyes.

‘Seriously, give me a call,’ Jamie whispers into my ear. ‘I’d like to see you again while you’re here.’

‘Sure, that would be fun,’ I reply, trying to sound casual. But as I climb up to sit beside Oscar, I feel that pull inside me. Because I know I really want to see Jamie again too. And soon.

After our carriage tour
around Central Park, Oscar and I take a wander along to Bloomingdale’s on 59th and Lexington, and come away with more than our fair share of their infamous Little, Medium and Large Brown bags. Then we take a walk back down Fifth Avenue, stopping off at all the stores we’ve not had a chance to visit yet. After the heat of Central Park, going into those cool, air-conditioned spaces is an absolute joy, and we don’t want to leave them in a hurry.

‘So,’ Oscar asks while we’re browsing around Saks, ‘what’s going on with you and Buttons?’

‘What do you mean, what’s going on? Nothing is going on.’ I hurriedly begin examining a pair of jeans in a size that’s clearly far too small for me.

‘
Scarlett
?’ Oscar says,
drumming his fingers impatiently on his folded arms.

‘What?’ I hang the jeans back on the rail. A year doing ‘carb-free’ wouldn’t get me into those. Actually, even a year doing ‘food-free’ wouldn’t have the desired effect.

‘I know you better than that by now. And even though you know I’m not Sean’s greatest fan, I wouldn’t want to see him getting hurt.’

I turn to face Oscar. ‘What are you talking about? Why would I hurt Sean?’

Oscar raises his eyebrows. ‘What was all the whispering before Buttons left us today, then?’

‘Nothing.’

Oscar’s eyebrows get even higher.

‘Really, nothing is going on. We just have a lot in common, that’s all.’

‘Such as?’

I explain to Oscar all about Jamie’s father.

‘So, you’re both from single-parent families,’ Oscar says with a shrug. ‘There are hundreds of thousands of you out there in the world; doesn’t make him anything special.’

‘He’s also a big movie fan like me. In fact, he’s probably an even bigger fan, if anything.’

‘Not possible,’ Oscar says, resting his hands on his hips.

‘Well, he knows enough about them. He was telling me this
afternoon in great detail about the many movies that have been filmed in Central Park.’

‘And so, where is all this going to lead?’

‘It’s leading nowhere. I like him, that’s it. Isn’t that allowed?’

‘Depends.’

‘On?’

‘On whether you fancy him, too.’ Oscar fixes me with one of his penetrating looks that have struck fear into grown men and rude shop assistants many a time.

‘Oscar!’ I tut, and begin walking away from him.

‘Scarlett,’ Oscar catches up with me and spins me round. ‘Do you?’

‘No.’ I look directly into his eyes. ‘I don’t. Yes, he’s good-looking, but no, I can honestly say I don’t fancy him. There’s just something about him I like, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. It feels like we’ve … got a connection.’

‘Hmm.’ Oscar’s eyes narrow as he considers my explanation. ‘Well, darling, as long as you continue
not
to put your finger on it, and you stay
un
connected from each other, then I guess it’s OK …’