From Notting Hill to New York . . . Actually (18 page)

‘So,’ I ask as Dad pours the syrup over his waffles. ‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’

My father puts the jug of syrup carefully on the table and looks up at me. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘You could start by telling me why you’ve kept a fake Tiffany brooch hidden away in the house all these years.’

Dad sits back in his chair and clasps his hands together in front of him on the table. He twiddles his thumbs
around for a moment as if he’s considering something.

‘It was given to me many years ago by … by a friend.’

‘And?’

‘
And
that’s it.’

‘Why? It seems an odd thing for a friend to give a man, a brooch, don’t you think?’

My father’s eyes narrow as he gazes across at me, then he shakes his head. ‘It’s no good, is it? You won’t rest until I tell you the full story, so I may as well give in now while my waffles are still hot enough to remain edible.’

I shrug my shoulders. ‘You know me, Dad.’

‘Don’t I just? If you can follow a trail halfway around the country and to Paris and back to try and find your mother, this isn’t going to faze you one bit.’

‘So what
is
the story then?’

Dad sighs. ‘The dragonfly was given to me by a friend of mine who I met not long after we moved to Stratford-upon-Avon. She was having money problems at the time, so I lent her some cash and in return she gave me the brooch as a sort of security on the loan. But then she disappeared, and when I went to have the brooch valued I found out it was a fake.’

I think about this for a moment while I spoon some of my yogurt into my mouth. Dad does the same and begins cutting into his waffles.

‘But why would you keep it
all this time if you thought it was fake? We moved to Stratford over twenty years ago.’

Dad finishes his mouthful of waffle before replying. ‘Sentimental reasons.’

‘What do you mean, sentimental reasons?’

‘Do I have to spell it out for you, Scarlett?’

I stare at my father over the breakfast table. ‘You mean, you and this woman were … but you and Mum hadn’t split up long then, had you?’

Dad looks down at the table. ‘Actually your mother had been gone eighteen months when we moved to Stratford. She left me, remember. I was lonely and I met this woman, she was just there for the summer, she was with a touring company doing
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
…’ His voice trails off as he thinks back.

‘What happened?’ I prompt gently.

Dad stares at me in surprise as though for a moment he’s forgotten I’m even there. ‘We got to know each other pretty well that summer. Of course, I always knew she was going to move on with the company eventually, that was her job. But when she left she went very suddenly.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. I never heard from her again; it was all very unexpected.’

‘But she left you the brooch?’

‘Yes, I lent her the money
and she left me the brooch, but I never, ever saw her again.’ Dad picks up his cutlery again and begins to eat. But by the look on his face he’s no longer enjoying his waffles.

‘Did you try and trace her?’ I ask. ‘Through the touring company she was with?’

‘Of course I did. But they said she’d left them in the lurch too, and they had no idea where she was.’

We both go quiet for a bit while we eat our breakfast and ponder our own thoughts.

‘I have to ask this, Dad,’ I say after a bit, ‘but do you think she was just after your money?’

Again, Dad purposefully finishes his mouthful of food before answering. He shakes his head. ‘No, she wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t.’

‘But why would she just up and leave like that without saying goodbye?’

‘I don’t know, Scarlett and I really don’t want to talk about it any more. It’s past history.’

‘I bet this dragonfly is something to do with this woman’s history,’ I say, my mind still racing. ‘Maybe it was an heirloom in her family. Maybe it was passed down through generations from mother to daughter—’

‘Scarlett …’ my father warns. ‘What did I just say?’

‘Sorry.’

‘Do you have the brooch with you now?’ he asks.

‘Of course,’ I reach into my bag. ‘I carry it with me
all the time at the moment.’ I pass the dragonfly carefully to my father, and watch him while he places it gently in the palm of his hand. He simply looks at it as if he’s absorbing a multitude of memories from its many colours. Then he quickly passes it back to me.

‘Like I said – past history. You keep the brooch if you like, Scarlett. Someone might as well have some enjoyment out of it.’

‘The expert Jamie took me to see said it might be worth several thousand dollars now.’

‘Even better, then. Put the money to good use if you want to sell it.’

‘Don’t be silly, Dad. I’m not going to sell this brooch if it’s got sentimental value for you.’

‘Old memories fade fast, Scarlett. It was a very long time ago now. Do what you want with the brooch.’ He waves it away with his fork. ‘Now, tell me about these Jamie and Max fellows you’ve been mentioning. Is Sean OK with you spending time with other men while you’re here?’

‘Oh, Dad, not you as well!’

‘Wow,’ I gasp
as we enter the huge hotel ballroom the TVA party is being held in that night. ‘It’s amazing.’

The room has been decorated entirely in gold and white. White lilies are draped elegantly along the centre of all the tables in long glass vases, and even bigger arrangements of lilies, roses and orchids fill every corner of the room. There are huge swags of gold fabric swooping from one side of the room to the other, and everywhere I look handsome waiters wearing white shirts, gold waistcoats and tight black trousers bustle about with trays of champagne and canapés.

‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ Oscar coos, eyeing the waiters. ‘Either that, or I’m having a wonderfully inventive dream.’

‘Champagne, sir, madam?’ one
of the waiters asks, hovering next to us with a tray.

‘Ooh, yes please,’ Oscar says, grabbing two glasses while managing to give the waiter the eye at the same time. ‘There you go, darling, get that down you. Enjoy your first taste of New York high life.’

It’s extremely good champagne, and we polish our first glass off pretty quickly while we surreptitiously peruse the New York glitterati milling around us. Then we swiftly move on to our second when another waiter passes by with a tray full of topped-up glasses.

‘There you are,’ a familiar voice says, arriving next to us. ‘I was wondering where the two of you had got to.’

‘Jamie, hi.’

Jamie looks pretty smart in his black tux tonight. Actually, he looks more than that, he looks really gorgeous, and I can’t help but notice all the admiring glances he receives from female guests as they pass by, and the occasional male one too. Max hadn’t been too far off the mark.

‘You look wonderful, Scarlett,’ he says, looking me up and down appraisingly. ‘Green really suits you. And the brooch looks great with that dress.’

I’d decided to wear the dragonfly at the last minute. My black earrings just hadn’t been enough to complement the simple cut of the dress, and it had looked a
bit plain. It was Oscar’s idea to add the brooch. And as usual where clothes are concerned, he was spot on.

‘Thanks. I wasn’t too sure about wearing it, but it’s good for it to be out on show again after all this time. Hey, guess what, I actually got to see my dad today at last.’

‘Cool, what did he say?’

I tell Jamie all about what Dad had said earlier. Oscar becomes bored during my tale and wanders off to find a waiter to harass, or something equally Oscar-like, to amuse himself.

‘Hmm,’ is Jamie’s non-committal response when I’ve finished my story.

‘What do you mean,
hmm
?’

‘Sounds like there’s more to it.’

‘How can there be more to it? The brooch belonged to a woman Dad met who had money troubles, and she ran off and left him with the debt. Sounds like she saw him coming, if you ask me.’

‘Possibly,’ Jamie screws up his nose. ‘But my journalistic senses are twitching.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘You’re a breakfast-TV reporter, Jamie. You’re hardly Donal MacIntyre undercover.’

Jamie gives me a disapproving look. ‘Ha, ha, funny, and it’s
correspondent
, actually. You wait. I bet there’s something more to all this than he’s letting on.’

‘More to what?’ I feel a hand on my shoulder as Max drapes his
arms around Jamie and me and energetically jumps in between the two of us. ‘Isn’t this great? Free drink
and
free food all night? And check out some of the birds … I mean
women
here. Man, they’re fit.’

I smile at Max. He looks slightly more dishevelled in his tux than Jamie does, and his bow tie is already hanging loose around his neck.

‘And just how many glasses of free champagne have you had already, Max?’ Jamie asks, removing Max’s arm from his shoulder.

‘Dunno, lost count after the sixth. But I tell you something, it must be strong stuff: when I was coming out of the gents’ just now I thought I saw Bradley Cooper walking towards me. Now what the hell would he be doing here tonight?’

I look down at my glass; it must be good stuff. I wouldn’t mind having lovely visions like that. I’d better get some more down me.

‘It probably was Bradley Cooper,’ Jamie says casually. ‘The owner of the station has some pretty big celebrity friends. He usually tries to get an odd one or two of them to come along to help boost funds for the charities, so I’ve heard.’

Max and I turn to each other in amazement, and then back to Jamie.

‘How can you sound so casual
about it?’ I ask. ‘Are you actually saying that
the
Bradley Cooper might be at this party?’

Jamie shrugs. ‘Yeah, and?’

I open my eyes wide and my mouth even wider.

‘How can you even
say
that?’

‘Yeah, man?’ Max agrees. ‘How can you? I’m sure I’m not hyperventilating about it for the same reasons Scarlett is, but
Bradley Cooper
, star of the
Hangover
movies! You know how much I love those films.’

Jamie looks at us both like we’re mad. ‘I like them too, but I’m not going to drool all over him just because he’s at the same party as me.’

‘We’re not going to drool over him,’ Max says. ‘Maybe just say a little hi and how’s your monkey?’

‘That sounds like something Oscar would say,’ I laugh. Then I have a thought. ‘Speaking of Oscar, has anyone seen him? If he knows Bradley Cooper is here we’ll never keep him away from the poor guy.’

‘Oh,’ Max says, suddenly looking worried.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Shortly after I thought I saw Bradley coming towards me, I saw Oscar heading towards the men’s toilet too.’

The same thought strikes us all at exactly the same moment, and we look at each other in utter panic, then head off in the same direction in
hot pursuit of Max as he shoots across the ballroom. But as we hurtle down a corridor and around a corner, we almost crash headlong into Oscar as he floats dreamily towards us.

‘Oscar?’ I ask him, as we pull ourselves abruptly to a halt. ‘Where have you been?’

Oscar simply points back towards the gents’ toilet.

‘And did you see anyone you knew in there?’ I hardly dare ask.

He nods again, a glazed expression still covering his face.

I look anxiously at Jamie and Max.

‘Do you want to tell us about it?’

‘Scarlett,’ Oscar says, holding up his hand. ‘I shall say only this. What happens in Manhattan stays in Manhattan. But for as long as I live, I will
never, ever
take a pee in a public urinal that will be as enjoyable as the one I’ve just taken in that one back there.’

And with that, he skips merrily back into the ballroom, leaving the three of us all staring at each other open-mouthed.

‘Oscar, what really went on in that toilet?’ I ask him a bit later when it’s just the two of us again. I still haven’t seen Bradley Cooper. I know he’s here because there’s always a crowd of women floating around certain parts of the room, and wherever you see a big
gaggle of peroxide and heels and you hear giggly voices, you know Bradley isn’t too far away. But trying to get anywhere near him is virtually impossible, and I’m not prepared to fight with the queens of silicone to get close to him.

‘Nothing,’ Oscar says, dropping a crab canapé into his mouth. He chews quickly on it for a moment, then swallows. ‘I just took a very good look, that’s all.’

‘Oscar!’

‘Well, I’m never going to get another chance like that again, am I?’

‘I suppose not. And?’

‘Scarlett!’ Oscar pretends to looks shocked. ‘What would Sean say?’

‘Sean’s not here, is he?’ I take a sip of my champagne. This stuff is good. How many glasses have I had now? Even I’m starting to lose count.

‘True …’ Oscar looks to both sides of him, then leans in towards me. ‘Just between the two of us … Let’s just say the monkey didn’t disappoint.’

I knew it.

‘Scarlett, what a lovely surprise to see you here!’

I turn around to see the now familiar face of the chap who’d tried to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre in the Italian restaurant, and whom I’d met again in St Patrick’s Cathedral. ‘Hi, it’s … erm.’

‘Peter,’ he reminds
me.

‘Yes, of course, Peter. How are you?’

‘I’m very well thank you. And yourself?’

‘Good thanks, yes. Oh, this is my friend Oscar.’

‘Enchanted,’ Oscar says, dangling his hand in front of Peter.

‘Indeed,’ Peter smiles at him and turns Oscar’s hand over so he can shake it in a more manly fashion.

‘So what brings you here tonight?’ Peter asks again.

‘I have a couple of friends working for British TV who had spare invites, which they gave to Oscar and me. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Of course, I can’t see anyone complaining, can you? It’s good to see you again, Scarlett.’ He inclines his head towards Oscar. ‘And to meet your friend. So what do you both think so far?’

‘It’s just fabulous, darling!’ Oscar enthuses. ‘The food, the wine, the fact I just saw parts of Bradley Cooper I’ve only ever dreamed about.’