From Notting Hill to New York . . . Actually (23 page)

‘Thanks, Jamie, yes I’d like that; I’ll give you a call. It’s been fun this afternoon, thanks.’

‘No prob, it’s us that should be thanking you. Anyway,’ he says when he feels Sean’s eyes boring into him, ‘we’ll leave you to it. Nice to meet you, Sean. I’ve heard a lot about you from Scarlett.’

‘Have you?’ Sean says with a steely expression. ‘That’s good.’

‘Good luck, kiddo,’ Max winks. ‘Catch you soon.’

And they’re gone.

I turn to Sean. ‘What was all that about? Those people are my friends, and you burst in here unannounced and behave like this?’

‘Looks like I got here just in time. What have you got yourself into, Scarlett? Two men in your room with a camera, and you dressed like some cheap hooker?’

I’ve never felt like slapping Sean before, but for one split second I nearly do just that. But luckily my sense of humour takes over and I just laugh.

‘That is
so
far from the truth it’s actually amusing.’

I quickly do my best to explain to him just why I’m dressed the way I am, and why Jamie and Max were in my hotel room, and Sean begins to relax a little.

‘I knew I shouldn’t leave you alone in New York,’ he says, shaking his head
in disbelief when I’ve finished my tale. ‘Just what else have you been up to while you’ve been here that you haven’t told me about?’

I’m glad Sean seems to be returning to his usual relaxed self. It’s really not like him to be angry. ‘Just let me get changed out of this and I’ll tell you all about it while we have a drink and some food downstairs. You must be hungry after your flight.’

‘Yes, I am,’ Sean says, looking at me as I’m reaching for the zip on the dress. ‘I’m really hungry, but it’s not for food at this very moment …’ He sidles up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. ‘Don’t take off that maid’s dress just yet …’

We end up not going downstairs for food, funnily enough, but we do order up room service a bit later, and we are now sitting propped up in bed after demolishing two portions of house burgers and fries – we’d worked up quite an appetite – and drinking the champagne Sean had insisted we order. It’s very romantic, and quite unlike him.

‘So why did you decide to fly over all of a sudden?’ I ask. This is still bothering me; Sean didn’t very often do things on a whim. He always thought everything through quite carefully, and with his business, he’d have had to get cover and cancel meetings and all sorts.

‘I told you, I wanted
to surprise you.’ Sean takes a long sip of his champagne. ‘Can’t I do that once in a while?’

‘Yes, of course, you know I love romantic gestures like that. But it just seems odd, that’s all. I only spoke to you yesterday morning, and you didn’t mention it then.’

‘If I had it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?’

‘I guess not. But that still doesn’t explain why. It’s just not like you.’

‘Thanks!’ Sean says, putting his champagne glass down on the cabinet next to the bed. He rolls over towards me and strokes my hair away from my face. ‘Can’t you just be glad I’m here?’

‘Of course I’m glad. It just seems unusual, that’s all.’

‘Then let me distract you from your unusual thoughts,’ Sean whispers as he begins kissing the side of my neck. ‘I don’t know, a guy books a last-minute flight at eight in the morning to visit his girlfriend halfway around the world, and all he gets are questions.’

‘Wait a minute, you booked your flight at eight a.m. your time, yesterday?’

‘Mmm,’ Sean murmurs, his lips moving down my neck and along my shoulder.

‘But you’d have been just about to go to work then. What made you decide overnight to book a flight to New York and cancel all your meetings that day just to come and see me? You could
have flown out the next day and given yourself more time.’

Sean abandons my shoulder and sits up.

‘Will you just let this go?’ he demands.

‘No, it doesn’t make sense. I know you, Sean, you forget that.’

‘And I thought I knew you too, Scarlett.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, just forget I said anything.’ Sean reaches for his champagne glass and takes a quick sip. ‘If you must know, I was due to fly in in a few days’ time, right at the end of your stay, so we could spend some time together in the city like you wanted us to.’

‘So what made you change your mind?’

‘Nothing, I just decided to come over earlier, that’s all.’ Sean looks away.

Hmm, this still doesn’t make sense. I turn everything over in my mind while Sean drinks slowly from his glass, still not looking in my direction. Then suddenly, like fitting that last piece of a jigsaw puzzle into place, a sense of satisfaction, dismay and on this occasion fury all rush together as I realise what’s happened.

‘When you booked your flight, you said it was eight a.m. in the UK, right?’ I ask, turning not only my face but my whole body towards him. ‘That would make it about three a.m. here.’

‘Yes,’ Sean replies, staring
into the bottom of his empty glass. ‘But I don’t see—’

‘And tell me, Sean,’ I continue like a detective who’s just figured out who the murderer is in a whodunnit, ‘just before you made your phone call to the airline, had you by any chance been on the phone to anyone else?’

Sean’s expression tightens.

‘I might have been.’

‘And would that person have been your ex-girlfriend Jennifer, by any chance?’

Sean sighs. ‘Yes, she may have phoned me.’

‘At three o’clock in the bloody morning?’

‘No,’ Sean says calmly, looking at me now. ‘At about two, actually, seven a.m. my time. From some party you were all at together. She had some very interesting things to tell me about what was going on that night.’

‘Such as?’ I pull the sheet around me protectively. I didn’t like where this was heading.

‘Such as you parading about on the stage with Bradley Cooper, getting extremely drunk and finishing the night with your head buried in your friend Jamie’s lap!’

I turn away from Sean and look out of the window for a moment into the now darkening Manhattan sky.

‘It’s not like it sounds.’

‘Isn’t it, Scarlett? Then please explain how it is then. Because right now it doesn’t
sound
too good at all.’

I haul myself up
and out of the bed, taking the sheet with me. ‘And that’s why you changed your flight, because of what she said?’ I look back at him for a moment before I head into the bathroom. ‘I can’t believe you would listen to her vile gossip. You know what she’s like.’

‘I didn’t want to, Scarlett; I even put the phone down on her. But after I sat and thought about what she’d said, it kept playing on my mind. You know you weren’t quite yourself when you left London. So I decided to fly over and see for myself what was going on. And after what greeted me on my arrival here today, maybe I was right to do that.’

‘I can’t believe this, Sean,’ I reply sadly. ‘I really can’t believe you still think I’ve got some sort of problem after what Maddie said to you in London, and much worse, I can’t believe you’d think I was up to anything … anything …
untoward
while I was here.’

Sean opens his mouth to reply, but I cut in.

‘No, Sean, I’m going for a shower before one of us says something we’ll
really
regret, and so I can cool down and think about all this.’ I lock the bathroom door behind me, turn on the shower and sit on the toilet seat to think.

Damn. Damn.
Damn
.

Damn that cow Jennifer for phoning Sean.

Damn that I had to get so
drunk last night I fell asleep in Jamie’s lap.

And damn if I still couldn’t remember how I got home last night.

Jamie and I hadn’t had a chance to discuss it today with Max being there, so I was still none the wiser, but that didn’t give Sean the right to accuse me of getting up to no good.

I let the sheet drop away from me and climb into the shower. As the hot water runs down over me I try to fathom out what to do next.

It was so unfair of Sean not to trust me, and to fly over here to see what was going on. I’d not done anything wrong. I was pretty sure I hadn’t, anyway … Yes, I liked Jamie. Yes, I felt a connection with him. But it wasn’t like that. I just knew I wouldn’t have done anything out of order last night. And I was certain Jamie wouldn’t have taken advantage.

Damn you, Jen! Why did you have to stick your long pointy nose into my affairs? I wince. Bad choice of word.

I finish my shower, towel myself dry, then wrap a new towel around me when I realise that my robe is still in the bedroom where I discarded it earlier. When I come out of the bathroom Sean is asleep in the bed. I look at my watch on the dressing table. It’s eight o’clock. I suppose it is quite late, for him; in the UK it would be one a.m. now. I tiptoe about the room finding my clothes,
making as little noise as possible, then I pin up my hair, pull on my shoes and quietly slip out.

I need to get out of here and think for a bit.

That’s one of the great things about New York; it’s a bit like London in that it doesn’t matter what time of day you set foot on the streets, it’s always buzzing with people. The type of people changes depending on the time of day you’re out and about, but there’s always a crowd to disappear into, or a place that’s open to go to if you want a change of scene.

I find myself walking across Madison and up Fifth Avenue. The stores are filled with late-night shoppers and tourists, but I don’t really feel like any retail therapy right now. Neither do I feel like venturing somewhere quieter. I’m not stupid; I know the parks at this time of night could be dangerous. So, where to?

And then I see it beckoning to me like a beacon of calm amid the hustle and bustle of the street and my overwrought mind.

St Patrick’s Cathedral.

I find the nearest crossing and wait for the signal. One of my few New York disappointments was not coming across any
WALK–DON’T WALK
signals at the pedestrian crossings. So far, I’ve only seen little flashing red and green men. These were far too much like our crossings back home,
and not at all like the ones you see in the movies or on TV. But when, finally, the green man looking after my crossing lights up, I hurry across the road and pull open the big wooden door at the back of the cathedral.

I’m surprised to find that there’s an adult choir singing at the front of the cathedral tonight. The women all wear long black dresses and the men black dinner suits, white shirts and bow ties. As I slip into one of the pews at the back to listen, I’m at once completely absorbed by their stunningly beautiful voices. And the sound that fills every inch of the vast auditorium I find myself in once again feels like honey soothing my soul from within.

After I’ve sat there listening in stunned silence for a good ten to fifteen minutes, I realise I’m feeling calm enough to return to Sean, and I’m about to get up when I feel a hand gently touch my shoulder. I turn to see Peter slipping into the pew beside me.

‘Breathtaking, aren’t they?’ he whispers, his face still turned towards the choir.

‘Yes,’ I whisper back. ‘They’re so good, I can’t believe I was lucky enough to stumble on them tonight. I feel as if they’ve repaired me inside.’

I blush, realising how weird that sounds.

Peter turns towards me. ‘Do you need repairing, then?’

‘Kind of,’ I say, feeling
a bit embarrassed. ‘Got some stuff going on. You know.’

Peter shrugs. ‘No. But you can tell me about it if you think it might help. I’m a good listener.’

The choir appears to be finishing up for the night as applause breaks out while they take a final bow, and the choirmaster thanks everyone for attending the service.

‘It’s complicated,’ I reply, watching them.

‘It always is,’ Peter says. ‘And that’s likely what drew you in here tonight, the thought of some peace and tranquillity.’

I nod.

‘Would you like me to leave you to your thoughts? It will be quiet in here once the choir have packed up. It always is at this time of night.’

‘Do you come here often, then?’ I ask, and when he grins I add, ‘at this time of night, I mean. I thought you said you came in after work.’

‘This is after work tonight.’

‘Doesn’t your family mind you getting home so late?’ I bite my lip. This really isn’t any of my business, but Peter always seems so easy to talk to I forget I don’t know him that well.

‘I don’t have any family. Not to come home to, anyway. My wife and I split up a few years ago, and my kids live with her out in Vermont.’

Peter states these facts in a
rehearsed way, as though he’s repeated them a thousand times over.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.’

‘No reason why you should, Scarlett, we barely know each other.’

I smile at him. ‘That’s true. But the odd thing is I find myself wanting to tell you things I wouldn’t want to discuss with my own family.’

‘Why don’t you then, if it helps?’

‘Here?’ I look around the great cathedral.

‘Nowhere better in Manhattan as far as I’m concerned, for pouring your troubles out and having them heal.’

‘It’s a long story,’ I warn him.

‘I’m in no hurry to go anywhere. Are you?’

I think about Sean and our argument earlier, then I shake my head and begin to tell Peter and St Patrick’s Cathedral everything that’s been going on.

By the time I’ve finished, St Patrick’s Cathedral is
almost empty, save for a few tourists still wandering around admiring the inside of this extraordinary building.

‘So, what do you think?’ I ask him, when he remains silent.

Peter’s grey head tilts slightly to the side as his deep blue eyes cast their knowing gaze over my face. ‘I think you’re very lucky to have so many people care so much about you, Scarlett. That’s what I think.’

‘Yes, I know I am. But everything seems so confusing at the moment.’

‘It will sort itself out. Life has a habit of doing that. When I broke up with my wife I thought it was the end of the world. But now I
realise it was the best thing that ever happened to us. We just weren’t making each other happy any more, and we were better off apart. It was hard on the kids, but even they’re happier, without us arguing all the time.’