Love Actually (1700)
9
There was another pause before Mark spoke again. `So what can I do for you?’
`I need help,' Juliet told him. `I've played the wedding video and it's all blue and it's got lines across it.’
`I'm sorry.’
`And I remember that you were filming a lot on the day - and I just wondered if I could look at your stuff.’
`Oh, no. I didn't really ...’
`Please,' Juliet said. `I just want one picture of me in a wedding dress that isn't bright blue.’
'OK. I'll have a look,' said Mark. `But I think I recorded something else over it, so don't get too hopeful. Er ... I
must go.'
Juliet was left holding the phone.
*
At Fairtrade, Sarah was sitting at her desk. On the desk, in front of her, was a picture of a good-looking young
man.
`Has there been any progress in your love life?' Harry asked.
`No,' Sarah told her boss. `I've done nothing about it and never will, because he's too good for me.’
`How true,' Harry agreed.
Sarah hit him lightly, and he hit her back. Her phone rang.
`And now, of course, you have a phone call,' said Harry. He turned to Mia. `How are the arrangements for the
Christmas party going?' he asked.
`Good,' Mia replied. `I think I've found a place. A friend of mine, Mark, works there.’
`What's it like?’
`Good,' said Mia. `It's an art gallery - full of dark corners for behaving badly in.' She looked at him meaningfully.
`Right,' said Harry. `Good. Well, I suppose I should see it.’
`You should.’
*
Jamie was typing when he heard a knock at the front door of his French farmhouse. He opened the door to a
middle-aged French woman.
`Good morning, Mr Bennett,' she said, with a strong French accent.
`Hello, Eleonore,' said Jamie.
`Welcome back. And this year, do you have a lady guest?’
'Ah, no. No change there. It's just me.’
`Am I sad about that, or not sad?’
`I think you're not surprised,' Jamie said.
`And you are staying until Christmas?’
`Yes’
`Good,' said Eleonore. `And I have found you a perfect lady to clean the house. This is Aurelia.’
Behind Eleonore, another woman stood nervously waiting. She was a pleasant-looking woman in her late
twenties.
Jamie stepped forward to greet her. `Hello, Aurelia,' he said, in careful French.
Aurelia said hello, very quietly, also in French.
Jamie said, very slowly, that he was very happy to have Aurelia there. Confused; Aurelia looked at Eleonore.
`Unfortunately,' Eleonore told Jamie, `like you, she cannot speak French. She is Portuguese.’
'Ah,' said Jamie, and thought for a minute. Then he wished Aurelia good day in Italian and told her in bad Spanish
that Eusebio was a very good footballer.
`She is ten years too young to remember a footballer called Eusebio,' explained Eleonore. `And "muy bueno" is
Spanish.'
`Right,' said Jamie. `Sure. Well, it's nice to meet you!'
`And perhaps you can drive her home when she finishes her work?' asked Eleonore.
`Of course,' Jamie said. `Con grande plesoro.’
`What language is that?' asked Eleonore. `Turkish?'
Later in the day, Jamie drove Aurelia home along an empty road. There was silence in the car and Jamie looked
out in embarrassment at the lovely valley they were driving through. `Beautiful. Beautiful,' he said, in Italian.
Aurelia looked confused. `Mountains,' explained Jamie, in Italian. `Trees,' he added. Aurelia looked even more
confused. `No, right,' said Jamie to himself. `Stop talking now.' He continued driving.
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