From Notting Hill to New York . . . Actually Read Online Free PDF Page B

reply they get from some minor Z-list celebrity, like the hairdresser of the mum of one of the
X Factor
contestants.
    But in among the hundred or so followers I have on Twitter, and the few hundred people I follow, I’m doing quite well with celebrity replies. I have an impressive list – I only go for the big names! – including Dermot O’Leary, Phillip Schofield, Davina McCall and Gok Wan. But what I really want are some Hollywood A-listers to add to my ever-growing list. I’ve tried Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore (before the split). My tweets aren’t really off-the-wall enough for Russell Brand to respond to, and I’m a little bit intimidated by his namesake, Russell Crowe, but I keep trying my old romcom buddy Tom Hanks. I feel like I know Tom; we’ve spent many a happy hour together in the company of Meg Ryan, Woody and Buzz Lightyear. But Tom has so many followers, I know the chances of a reply are pretty remote.
    I click on my @Mentions first. Several spam tweets, trying to tempt me into the usual ‘Win a New Phone’ or ‘Holiday’ or even ‘Plastic Surgery’, depending on what I’ve mentioned previously in my own tweets. Twitter is funny like that: you only have to mention a key word and you’ll suddenly find yourself being followed by all sorts of random people. I once mentioned that I had a problem withone of my teeth, and had three inventors of alternative remedies for toothache follow me. Another time I mentioned something to do with our garden – and was followed by a swarm of online garden suppliers. The worst was when, in the space of a day, four male escort agencies began following me. I never quite figured out what I’d said to encourage that!
    But bypassing the spam, and a few mentions from some of my genuine fellow Twitter users, I suddenly stumble upon it, shining out like a beacon at me from the screen … only a reply from Hugh Jackman!
Oh my God oh my God
, I think as my fingers quiver over the keyboard. What has he said in reply to my, what I considered quite hilarious, tweet about Sean shaving and leaving his razor and foam mess all over the bathroom? I’d asked Hugh if his wife had double the problems with him – meaning during the time he was Wolverine, and Hugh has replied saying his wife virtually had to bring in pest control, the hair issues were so bad!
    Aw, I think, I love him all the more now for bothering with my pretty poor attempt at a joke, but I add it to the very top of my list of celebrity replies. Definitely my best one yet, and the closest I’m likely to come to an A-lister this year after the Colin Firth incident …
    I glance at the clock on my bedside cabinet. I’d better get dressed – Oscar will be here soon. Now, what should I wear …? I know it’s prettyunlikely me or my clothes will be seen on TV, but I don’t want to take any chances, so I choose a smart pair of French Connection trousers, a Topshop shirt and a belted suede jacket. I don’t really know what you’re supposed to wear to an Antiques Roadshow, but I hope this outfit is slightly more ‘TV ready’ than ‘junk shop ready’. It’s a mild day for March, but I have a feeling today’s Roadshow is going to involve a fair bit of standing around and queueing, and I don’t want to get cold, so I grab a jumper too just in case it gets chilly out on the tennis courts. Ten minutes to go before Oscar is due to arrive. What on earth am I going to take with me to be valued? Sean’s right, I
should
take something … but what?
    I go on a quick wander through the house, but nothing jumps out at me. Sean’s and my own tastes are quite modern; we don’t really have any antiques, as such. Hmm … I sit down on the sofa and have a think. I wonder if the necklace my great-aunt left me in her will is of any interest? It’s two strings of pearls with a cameo at the end. I’ve never worn it – bit too old-fashioned for me. But it might be worth taking along.
    I bound up the stairs and open my large