Chapter Text
“Good morning, BBC listeners. It’s 8 am, the sun is shining and the temperature is a lovely 22 degrees. I’m your host, Lewis Chapman and on today’s local news, a large section of Kensington will be closed off due to the filming of the third instalment of the american film ‘The Void’; Theobalds Road is still undergoing repairs, so expect some traffic delays…”
Finishing up her tea, Jamie Taylor turned off the small radio in her tiny kitchen. She didn’t need the traffic reports, she couldn’t even remember the last time she drove a car. Since she had moved to London, she had been fortunate enough to find a small, somewhat affordable place, close to her shop—an inheritance from an aunt she met once at 12 years old—which allowed her to walk to work every day.
And what a walk it was. Adjusting her grey cardigan over her overalls, she closed the door that the previous owner had painted blue—to match the house’s facade—and started up Portobello road, dodging tourists and folks heading to work, walking past the photography shop where people took their vintage cameras; the tattoo parlour, where she once crossed paths with a very tall man who got a tattoo that said “I love Ren”; under the overpass and by the hairdresser that only seemed to have one hair dye, as pretty much all who exited looked like a human version of the cookie monster; past the street market, with every vegetable and fruit known to man being sold in every stall; until she passed the vintage boutique and stopped in front of her shop:
‘The Leafling’.
She felt her best self around the flowers and greens inside, repotting, watering and clipping as needed; making the bouquets and flower arrangements ordered; watching the birds flying over the trees in the backyard; welcoming her regulars—including the sweet old lady that insisted on trying to set her up with her grandchildren—and listening to the radio as the street bubbled with life.
Notting Hill, her home.
“We’re close to the end of our show, listeners, thank you as always for tuning in. We have a very special show lined up for tomorrow, I’m very excited for it. Are you excited, Rose?”
“I sure am, Joe. Big show coming, we haven’t had a big guest like this in a while.”
Jamie clipped a sunflower and added it to a glass vase.
“That's right. So, listeners, as some of you probably know there’s a film being shot at Kensington, it’s the third one in the trilogy ‘The Void’, we don’t know the official title yet but it’s the third one.”
“I think it’s going to be a series if this one does well, Joe. Which I’m sure it will, it’s quite popular.”
“It is very popular, Rose. People are excited for it. And we’re excited to have the star of the films, Danielle Clayton herself, here, live on our show tomorrow.”
The shop’s bell rang as claps sounded on the radio and Jamie turned down the sound. She placed one last sunflower in the vase and walked to the counter, storing her shears in her apron pocket.
A very grumpy looking boy, shaggy brown hair and a rather disheveled school uniform, dropped his backpack by the door and sulked his way to a chair beside her.
“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?” Jamie asked, leaning against the counter with her hip, arms crossed.
“Kensington is blocked,” the boy mumbled.
“So I’ve heard. What about it?”
“It’s ruining all my hard work with Lauren.”
Jamie scoffed. “Mate, we’ve talked about this. She’s way out of your league.”
“She smiled at me,” he informed, almost offended.
“That’s what polite people do, it’s not a sign she likes you or anything.”
The boy got up and mimicked her position. “That’s the thing, Jamie. I’m wooing her, little by little, every day. Working my charm until she likes me. Ultimately, get her to fall in love with me,” he explained, without a hint of a smile.
“Jesus Christ, Mikey. You’re too young for this dramatic romance thing.” She shook her head, amused. “Anyway, mate, the backyard is not going to clean itself, get to work.”
“You’re just jealous that I have love in my life. You wouldn’t know love if it walked through those doors right now.”
Without another word, she pointed to the back and he slumped his way to the backyard, grabbing a broom midway. Just as he walked outside, the shop bell rang again. Jamie barely had time to face the door to welcome the new arrival, only spotting a blonde blur hiding behind a large potted ficus. Frowning, she circled around the counter and tried to get a closer look. The person—wearing large sunglasses—seemed to be trying to make themselves small.
A commotion outside her shop pulled Jamie’s focus from the stranger. A man holding a very professional camera stood by the door, looking around. Jamie took a step closer, glaring through the glass and when she heard a soft “no” coming from the ficus, things clicked into place. As did the lock on the door as she made eye contact with the ‘paparazzi’, turning the sign to ‘Closed’ at the same time. Was it the middle of the afternoon? Yes. Could he see the working hours printed on the door? Yes. But what was he going to do about it? Wait outside for the rest of the day, waiting patiently for whoever he was looking for to come out of her shop? Possibly and very likely. Did she care? Not in the slightest. And so she casually dropped the cloth blind on his face.
“Considering he was a paparazzi, I’m going to assume I locked myself in with a famous person, not a murderer,” she spoke to the air, not moving from her spot—just in case.
“I’m very sorry about that,” an american accent responded. “I’ve been trying to lose him for so long, I thought I would take advantage of the leeway I got when I turned the corner.”
The person stepped out from behind the ficus and removed their glasses. “I’m sure he knows I’m here, anyway.”
“Don’t think I was very subtle. Maybe he’ll believe it was a coincidence and I had to close for personal reasons.”
The laugh that filled the shop almost made Jamie’s heart stop. Melodious and charming, much like the face it came from. In theory Jamie knew Danielle Clayton was a beautiful woman. She had seen a few of her films, the occasional interview and even the ads. Danielle Clayton was a star, pretty much everywhere, her face all over the streets trying to sell her a perfume or a watch—Jamie really wanted the watch, in fact—and as such Jamie could see how beautiful she was. But now, having her in *her shop*, standing next to a tall ficus, wearing a blue dress and the biggest sunglasses she had ever seen, Jamie had no description for it. Perhaps ‘blinding’, much like her status.
“Oi, what’s going on?” Mikey pulled her out of her reverie.
Danielle put her glasses back on and feigned interest in one of the cacti behind her.
“Had to close the shop for a bit. Something’s happening outside, wanted to be safe, is all.”
Mikey’s face lit up as he ran to the storefront to check.
“Get out of there, mate!” Jamie pulled him back. “Don’t draw attention to us.”
“Just wanted to see. Is it a fight?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Uhm, Jamie? Did you notice we have a customer?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about that. Is everything clean back there?”
“Found fox poop again.”
A giggle echoed in the silence of the shop. Jamie sighed.
“It’s probably just a cat, mate.”
“Or a fox," he insisted." Milton said he saw one sleeping on a window sill a couple of weeks back.”
“Sure he did. Go find something else to do, will you?”
“I did all the things. Can I help the customer?”
“It’s not—”
She didn’t have time to end her sentence as Mikey was already by Danielle’s side.
“What are you looking for, ma’am?” he asked, in the most polite tone Jamie had ever heard him speak. Under normal circumstances, she would be impressed. “We seem to be closed at the moment but if I can help?”
Jamie watched it happen as if in slow motion: not wanting to be rude to a 14 year old, Danielle faced him, removed her glasses and with an enchanting smile simply said “Thank you, I may take three of these,” pointing to the cacti in a neat row behind her.
Mikey gasped, made what sounded like a choking noise and sputtered—all in quick succession.
“That’s—, you’re—, she—” he alternated between Jamie and Danielle, unsure of what to say.
“I’m so sorry,” Jamie offered.
“I get this a lot. It’s alright.”
“Okay, okay. Enough of this,” Jamie gave him a shoulder slap. “Grab your things, we’re going home.”
“Oh no. I’ve ruined your business day.”
“Don’t worry. Sometimes you just have to close early. Let me just do it properly and we’ll get you out of here without the paparazzi bothering you.”
Danielle nodded and smiled.
Jamie could do the books with her eyes closed and a hand tied behind her back but something about Danielle’s presence was very distracting. Mikey was no help either, as he stood beside her, staring.
“She’s even prettier in person,” he whispered as Jamie tried to count the notes for the second time.
“I guess,” Jamie shrugged.
“Should we get her autograph?”
“No.” She lost count again. “We’re sneaking her out the back and then going our separate ways.”
“Which is exactly why we should ask for it. We’ll likely never see her again, it’s a golden opportunity.”
“Leave her alone, mate.” She closed the till, maybe a little too harshly.
He took a paper from the pile at the counter and a pen from Jamie’s apron pocket, completely ignoring his sister in the process.
“Miss Clayton?” He approached her shyly. “Can I…?”
“Of course, of course.” She received the tools and set them up on a shelf. “What’s your name?”
“M-i-k-e-y.”
She scribbled for a second and faced him again, nodding towards Jamie. “And your—?”
“Sister, she’s my sister. Don’t bother with her, she said she didn’t want one.”
“Oh,” Danielle said, disappointed, and finished the autograph. “Okay. Here you go.”
Mikey beamed at the piece of paper. “Thank you. Can’t wait to show all my mates tomorrow.”
“I can sign a couple more, if you want?”
“Nah, I just want them to be jealous.”
Danielle laughed. “Hope it works.”
“Oh, it’s going to work. One of my mates has all the posters for 'The Void' on his bedroom walls.”
“Really? I bet he’s excited about the new one being shot here, uh?
“Wait, what? You’re shooting here? In London?”
“Yes. In Kensington, by the embassies.”
Jamie stopped sorting the receipts and watched.
“You’re the reason Kensington is blocked?” he asked, saddened.
“For a couple of days, yes. Why?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her concern raising by the second.
“You’re the one keeping me from love…” he shook his head and retreated to the office behind Jamie.
“I—”
“Ignore him, he’s just being a dramatic teenager.” Jamie shrugged. “I’ll just be another minute and we can go.”
“Okay,” Danielle said, playing with her sunglasses.
The shop’s backyard—somehow still covered in leaves even though someone was supposed to clean it—had a tall wooden fence around it with a concealed door in the back. Jamie barely used it but it led to an alley that took them away from where the ‘paparazzi’ would inevitably be waiting.
“We’ll take a left when we reach the street and then you can call your ride,” Jamie informed as she replaced the chain and padlock on the door.
“First Kensington, now making us take the long way round,” Mikey grumbled beside her.
“Mate, knock it off. This was a one time incident and the other thing is just for a couple of days. And it’s not her fault,” Jamie whispered.
Fixing the bag on his shoulder, he took off ahead. “Whatever.”
Jamie sighed and was about to call for him when Danielle grabbed her hand, catching her attention. “I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t mean to disrupt or bother anyone.”
Fighting through the warm tingle in her hand and the dryness on her throat, Jamie shook her head softly. “I know you didn’t. I have a vague idea of how ruthless british media is. I’m happy to help.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
They lingered for a minute, somehow still holding hands, looking at each other. Jamie had no real idea of what was happening but it felt… nice? How did being in a back alley with an american film star feel so right?
Maybe it was the magic of Notting Hill.