CHAPTER ONE

Just Another Wednesday Morning?

It was a fine spring morning. William Thacker was looking out of his window, thinking about life.

'Notting Hill—not a bad place to be,' he thought. On weekdays, there was the market, selling fruit and vegetables from all over the world. At the weekend, even more people crowded into Portobello Road and the streets around it to buy expensive old furniture, paintings and cheap clothes. Then there were the unusual shops, the cafes and restaurants. The streets were always busy, always full of people. But best of all, this was the place where most of his friends now lived.

Notting Hill was like a small village in the middle of a big city. And in this London village, William Thacker had his home. His wife lived in another part of town. Well, she was his wife until two years earlier. Then she left him for a man who looked like Harrison Ford. So in the house with the blue front door, William, twenty-eight years old and single, now lived a strange half-life with his Welsh lodger, Spike.

'Hey, can you help me with an important decision?' Spike walked into the room. He was a tall, thin, pale man with dirty yellow hair and untidy clothes. 'I'm going out with the great Janine tonight and I want to wear the right T-shirt.'

'What have you got?' asked William, trying to show interest.

Spike pulled on a T-shirt. On the front, an alien was swimming in a sea of blood above the words I Love Blood.

'Well, there's this one?'

Hmmm ... I'm not sure it's romantic enough,' William said thoughtfully.

Yes ... maybe you're right.' Spike ran up the stairs, still talking. I know you'll like this one.'

He came back wearing a second T-shirt. Take Me! Read the words on the front, in big, black letters.

'Well,' said William slowly, 'will she think you're looking for true love? I'm not sure that she will.'

'Oh, I don't want her to get the wrong idea! OK, just one more.'

He came down in the last T-shirt. Below little red hearts, it read: You're the most beautiful woman in the world.

William showed his surprise. 'Yes,' he said. 'That's perfect. Well done!'

'Thanks. Great. I'm feeling lucky!' Spike smiled.

He turned and walked proudly upstairs. On the back of the T-shirt, William could now read: Let's go to bed.

'Oh, Spike ...' he sighed to himself.

It was just another Wednesday, another working day. William walked through the market and opened the door to his shop, The Travel Book Company. It was a small shop that sold ... well, travel books. But he never seemed to sell many. Inside, there were a few small rooms full of shelves, and every shelf was heavy with books—expensive books, cheap books, large hardbacks and small paperbacks.

William greeted Martin, his assistant. A small man with a beard and a nervous smile, Martin always tried to see the best in life. He liked to please people, but was not very good at selling. In fact, people often thought he was a little strange.

William started looking at some papers on his desk.

'Great. Last week we made nothing! In fact, we lost 347 pounds on those guidebooks to Turkey ...'

'Oh dear. Never mind. Shall I go and get us some coffee? Make you feel better?' Martin asked, smiling.

As he left for the cafe, a woman came into the shop. William looked up at her, looked down, thought for a minute, then looked up again. She was a beautiful young woman with long, black hair, dressed simply in a black jacket and trousers. He was sure he knew her. Was it possible? Could it really be her? Yes, it was Anna Scott, the biggest film star in the world! To William—to most men—she was the most beautiful woman on Earth.

He tried to stay calm. 'Can I help you?'

She looked at him through her dark glasses. 'No, thanks. I'll just look around.'

His eyes followed her as she went over to a shelf. She picked out a large, expensive guidebook full of colour photographs.

'That book's really not good ... er ... if you're thinking of buying it,' he said, a little nervously.

'Really?'

'Yes, but this one is ... very good,' he said, picking up one of the smaller books from his desk. 'I think the writer really has been to Turkey.'

'Thanks. I'll think about it,' she smiled.

Suddenly, William noticed something on the small screen on his desk.

'Just a minute, please,' he said. He walked to the back of the shop towards a customer who was hiding between two lines of shelves.

'Er ... excuse me, sir,' he said to the man.

'Yes?'

'Bad news.'

'What?'

'We've got a camera in this part of the shop.'

'So?'

'So I saw you put that book down your trousers,' William told him.

'What book?'

'The one down your trousers.'

'I haven't got a book down my trousers,' replied the man.

OK. Listen. We seem to disagree about this. I'll call the police and they can take a look. If I'm wrong, I'm really sorry,' William said patiently.

'Right. Er ... And if I do have a book down my trousers?' the man asked.

'Well ... this is what I suggest. I'll go back to my desk. You take the Cadogan Guide to Bali from your trousers and put it back on the shelf. Or buy it.'

William walked back to his desk. On the screen, he watched as the book came out of the man's trousers. Then it was back on the shelf. The thief started walking slowly towards the door.

William turned back to Anna. 'Sorry about that.'

She smiled. 'No, that's fine. I was thinking of stealing one too, but now I've changed my mind.' She looked at the copies of the cheaper guidebook on his desk. 'Signed by the writer?'

'Yes,' William said. 'We couldn't stop him. If you can find an unsigned copy, you can probably sell it for a lot of money.'

The thief stopped next to Anna, looking at her with interest.

'Can you sign this for me?' he asked, pulling a dirty piece of paper from his coat.

Anna sighed. 'What's your name?' she asked.

'Rufus.'

She wrote on the piece of paper and gave it back to him. He tried to read her handwriting.

'What does it say?' he asked.

She pointed. 'Well, that's my name. And there it says: Dear Rufus—I hope the police catch you next time!

'Nice,' he smiled. 'Would you like my phone number?'

'I don't think so,' she replied. As the man left the shop, she turned to William. 'I think I'll try this one.' She gave him the large, expensive book and the money for it.

'Oh, right. Maybe it isn't as bad as I thought,' William said. 'Probably quite good. And I'll give you this one free.' He dropped the cheaper guidebook into the same bag. 'Very useful for lighting fires or for making paper hats ...'

A sudden warm smile lit up her face. She looked carefully at this amusing young man with blue eyes and thick brown hair. 'Thanks,' she said, and left.