From Notting Hill to New York . . . Actually Read Free

gear.
    ‘Are you kidding, Scarlett, thisis TV! Anything goes behind the scenes. It’s only onscreen that there are rules and regulations.’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Like, they don’t want you wearing big stripes because it interferes with the screen, or something, and if it’s morning TV there’s no black, it has to be bright and breezy.’
    ‘So if one of us accidentally ends up on air today, then you’ll have no worries, Oscar.’
    Oscar tosses his head. ‘There’s as much chance of
that
happening as one of us dating Bradley Cooper. Too much security, darling; it’s like Colditz getting in and out of there.’
    We set off for the TV studios in a black cab. Oscar won’t allow his clothes on public transport, in case they get squashed or
tainted
by the smell of commuters. As we trail across London in the taxi, I look out at the city I now call home.
    It hadn’t taken me too long to get used to living here permanently. After I’d spent a month house-sitting last year in Notting Hill, and I’d fallen in love with my next-door neighbour at the time – Sean – it hadn’t taken me much thought at all before upping sticks and moving in with him. We’d relocated the offices of the popcorn-machine company I continued to run with my father from Stratford-upon-Avon down to London, and our headquarters were now basedin a little office in Chelsea. But it was only me and my new assistants, Tammy and Leon, that ran the offices now. Dorothy, my father’s faithful secretary of many years, had decided to retire when Dad had gone over to New York to run the new US arm of the business. Which was blossoming, after Sean had purchased a chain of cinemas last year in one of his business deals, and our popcorn machines were gradually supplying the ever-growing needs of the cinema-goers of America.
    I missed Dad terribly. But he’d taken to living in New York surprisingly well. I think he quite enjoyed having the chance to do something different with his life for once, and my moving in with Sean had given him the push to move on.
    ‘What ya thinkin’ about?’ Oscar asks, as we suddenly pick up speed and start moving through the early-morning traffic at a pace.
    ‘Dad.’
    ‘You miss him, don’t you?’ Oscar asks, resting his hand on mine.
    I nod. ‘Yes, but he’s having a whale of a time over in New York. Best thing that ever happened to him, going to the States. It’s been like a new lease of life.’
    ‘Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t miss him, though, Scarlett. It was only the two of you for twenty-three years. It’s understandable you should feel the loss.’
    I nod again. Oscaralways knows the right thing to say. He’s been like my new best friend since I’ve come to live in London. Maddie, my oldest friend, still isn’t that far away in Stratford-upon-Avon, when she isn’t off travelling around the world with her husband, Felix, but it just isn’t the same.
    Suddenly the taxi driver screeches to a halt.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ I exclaim, peering through the glass partition to see what’s caused him to brake so hard.
    ‘Bloody joggers!’ he moans, rolling his eyes. ‘Shouldn’t be allowed. She just stepped right out in front of that bus, and now there’s a three-vehicle pile-up.’
    As the taxi driver slowly pulls around the line of vehicles, I see some early-bird tourists already snapping photos of the incident, and uniformed police officers appearing on the scene, trying to grab a couple of witnesses to take a statement from as the jogger looks anxiously at her watch.
    ‘I don’t think she is a jogger,’ I remark as we drive by. ‘Her clothes suggest she’s going to a gym, like us, not out road-running.’
    Oscar laughs. ‘Two sessions with Davina McCall, and you’re a fitness expert now?’
    ‘Three, actually, and I have bought some other workout DVDs, I just haven’t had time to do them yet.’
    ‘And will you?’ Oscar asks with wide eyes.
    ‘Depends on how I get onat the gym later this