think .
I knew the six-digit code was something personal to me—I’d thought that when Belinda had told me it the first time, now what was it again?
The wailing seemed to be getting louder. How long did I have before the police would come out? I couldn’t remember what Belinda had said now. If only that damn wailing would shut up for a minute so I could think. Oh, that was the point.
I thought hard.
Now…the first two numbers were my birthday—that was easy, I could remember those. The next was…oh, my bra size minus the cup, yep, got it. And the last two…come on, Scarlett…think…oh, of course, how many times I’d seen the movie Notting Hill !
Hastily I reset the security code, all the time praying I’d remembered it in the correct order. Within seconds of pressing the buttons, the wailing ceased.
I breathed a sigh of relief, pulled my suitcase in off the step, and shut the door behind me. It was only then that I noticed the elegant surroundings I found myself in.
“Wow,” I exclaimed as my eyes ran over the coffee and cream decor of the hall. “Triple wow!”
I quickly explored the house, opening doors and expelling further sounds of pleasure as I became more and more excited.
Belinda and Harry certainly had plenty of money, that was for sure—but I thanked the Lord they had taste too. Plain walls were simply adorned with bold works of art, and every room was light and airy but managed to remain warm and cozy too. Everywhere was decorated in a chic, minimalist style, and I loved it.
I selected one of their five bedrooms to sleep in. It had a lavish purple and lilac theme. There was a beautiful silk duvet cover and scatter cushions on the bed, with full-length raw silk curtains at the window. This will do nicely , I thought, as I launched myself face down on to the bed, arms and legs outstretched just like Kate Winslet had done in Cameron Diaz’s mansion in The Holiday . Then I flipped over and lay back on the bed for a moment, admiring my new surroundings. “Ha ha, you lot,” I said to the empty room. “Strike one! There’s my first completely spontaneous and totally harmless movie moment and I’ve only been here five minutes!”
My intention was to go back home at the end of my month away with a list of evidence of things that had happened to me that were the same as things that happened to people in the movies, therefore proving my point to those that doubted me. I was determined to show that what they considered my strange little obsession was not as eccentric and bizarre as they thought it was.
Movies weren’t that different from real life a lot of the time—I just had to find a way of proving that.
I mean, obviously there wasn’t any chance of me sailing on a 46,000-ton passenger liner when it hit an iceberg, but what was to stop me from going to as many weddings as I could find, in the hope that the best man would forget the rings or the bride would be jilted in sign language by the brother of the groom?
OK, those might not be the best two examples, but it couldn’t be that hard to find movie scenes in everyday life. And after all I was in Notting Hill, which had already given me a good start in meeting Oscar.
I know the others just thought I needed some time away-to get my head together, to think about my life and what I really wanted from it. Dad had seemed especially keen that I do just that.
I thought about my father.
I’d only mentioned him casually to Oscar, saying he felt the same as Maddie and David. But the truth was Dad had just as much to do, if not more so, with me being here as they did.
The day after I’d gone to the art gallery with Maddie, David and I had spent a very awkward day in the house together, desperately trying to spend as little time as possible in each other’s company, therefore ruling out any possibility of needing to discuss the argument of Friday evening.
So for once, when Monday morning came and I found myself climbing the concrete stairs
I knew the six-digit code was something personal to me—I’d thought that when Belinda had told me it the first time, now what was it again?
The wailing seemed to be getting louder. How long did I have before the police would come out? I couldn’t remember what Belinda had said now. If only that damn wailing would shut up for a minute so I could think. Oh, that was the point.
I thought hard.
Now…the first two numbers were my birthday—that was easy, I could remember those. The next was…oh, my bra size minus the cup, yep, got it. And the last two…come on, Scarlett…think…oh, of course, how many times I’d seen the movie Notting Hill !
Hastily I reset the security code, all the time praying I’d remembered it in the correct order. Within seconds of pressing the buttons, the wailing ceased.
I breathed a sigh of relief, pulled my suitcase in off the step, and shut the door behind me. It was only then that I noticed the elegant surroundings I found myself in.
“Wow,” I exclaimed as my eyes ran over the coffee and cream decor of the hall. “Triple wow!”
I quickly explored the house, opening doors and expelling further sounds of pleasure as I became more and more excited.
Belinda and Harry certainly had plenty of money, that was for sure—but I thanked the Lord they had taste too. Plain walls were simply adorned with bold works of art, and every room was light and airy but managed to remain warm and cozy too. Everywhere was decorated in a chic, minimalist style, and I loved it.
I selected one of their five bedrooms to sleep in. It had a lavish purple and lilac theme. There was a beautiful silk duvet cover and scatter cushions on the bed, with full-length raw silk curtains at the window. This will do nicely , I thought, as I launched myself face down on to the bed, arms and legs outstretched just like Kate Winslet had done in Cameron Diaz’s mansion in The Holiday . Then I flipped over and lay back on the bed for a moment, admiring my new surroundings. “Ha ha, you lot,” I said to the empty room. “Strike one! There’s my first completely spontaneous and totally harmless movie moment and I’ve only been here five minutes!”
My intention was to go back home at the end of my month away with a list of evidence of things that had happened to me that were the same as things that happened to people in the movies, therefore proving my point to those that doubted me. I was determined to show that what they considered my strange little obsession was not as eccentric and bizarre as they thought it was.
Movies weren’t that different from real life a lot of the time—I just had to find a way of proving that.
I mean, obviously there wasn’t any chance of me sailing on a 46,000-ton passenger liner when it hit an iceberg, but what was to stop me from going to as many weddings as I could find, in the hope that the best man would forget the rings or the bride would be jilted in sign language by the brother of the groom?
OK, those might not be the best two examples, but it couldn’t be that hard to find movie scenes in everyday life. And after all I was in Notting Hill, which had already given me a good start in meeting Oscar.
I know the others just thought I needed some time away-to get my head together, to think about my life and what I really wanted from it. Dad had seemed especially keen that I do just that.
I thought about my father.
I’d only mentioned him casually to Oscar, saying he felt the same as Maddie and David. But the truth was Dad had just as much to do, if not more so, with me being here as they did.
The day after I’d gone to the art gallery with Maddie, David and I had spent a very awkward day in the house together, desperately trying to spend as little time as possible in each other’s company, therefore ruling out any possibility of needing to discuss the argument of Friday evening.
So for once, when Monday morning came and I found myself climbing the concrete stairs
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