Page 47 of Christmas at the Movies

‘As Covid-19 cases continue to rise across the nation, England today enters a second lockdown until the second of December,’ intoned the reporter solemnly. ‘The prime minister is announcing new measures to tackle the spread of this new variant.’

The broadcast cut to the prime minister, his blonde hair looking characteristically dishevelled. ‘To protect the vulnerable, everyone must stay at home, except for education and essential travel.’

‘Well, here we go again,’ said Mum, sighing wearily. ‘Another lockdown.’

Holly’s dad took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, which had dark circles underneath them.

The Picture Palace had been shut from March to August. Audience numbers had been low since reopening. Even with socially distanced seating and masks, people felt nervous about sitting together in a confined space and had largely stayed home. Now the cinema was being forced to shut again.

‘This sucks,’ moaned Holly. She had been overjoyed to go back to school in September, after being stuck at home with her family all spring and summer.

At first, it had been fun not to have to go to school.

They had baked banana bread, played cards, taken long walks in the countryside and watched classic movies together.

Once the novelty had worn off, though, it had just been boring.

Holly was a social butterfly. She missed chatting to her friends at lunch and on the bus.

There was nothing to gossip about because everyone was stuck at home.

Jonesy butted his head against Holly’s hand, demanding that she scratch behind his ears. Holly obliged him and was rewarded by a rumbling purr.

That was one good thing about the first lockdown – they’d got a pet, after years of her and Nick begging for one.

Dad had found a litter of kittens abandoned in the cinema car park.

They’d adopted the runt of the litter, a tiny ginger ball of fluff, and rehomed the rest. Dad had named their kitten Jonesy, after the cat in some science-fiction movie.

(Holly had wanted to call him Alexander Hamilton, but had been overruled).

‘I know, sweetie, it’s very frustrating,’ said Mum. ‘Just when we thought things were finally getting back to normal.’

‘Maybe this is the new normal,’ said Dad.

Holly stared at him in horror. Was she going to spend her teenaged years doing jigsaw puzzles and playing games with her parents and little brother?

‘At least schools are staying open this time,’ said Mum.

Holly groaned. ‘It’s so unfair. We have to do all the boring parts of school and none of the fun things.’ She had been looking forward to auditioning for the school musical, but the production had been cancelled. All clubs and sports had been cancelled too.

‘I liked it when the schools were shut.’ Nick snapped a wheel onto his latest LEGO creation.

Nick had found home-schooling less stressful than going to school.

Holly’s little brother was annoyingly clever – he’d finish his primary school assignments quickly, then spend the rest of the day drawing, reading and building models.

Nice for some. Holly had struggled to keep up with her schoolwork without proper lessons.

‘I know it’s difficult,’ said Dad. ‘But we’ll get through this lockdown, so long as we stay positive.’

‘Look, it’s Auntie Pari!’ exclaimed Nick, pointing at the television screen.

Holly’s godmother was standing outside a West End theatre with one of her clients, a handsome actor called Mateo Ajose. Underneath Pari’s picture, it said, Pari Johal, CEO of Shakti Talent. Once, Holly had asked her what the name meant, and she’d explained that shakti meant power in Punjabi.

‘You were due to star in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ The reporter addressed the actor. ‘How do you feel about the fact that the show can’t open as planned?’

‘Very disappointed, obviously,’ said Mateo. ‘But the most important thing is saving lives.’

‘Things are very tough for the entertainment community right now,’ added Pari.

‘It isn’t just the actors who are out of work – it’s the crew, the hair and make-up people, the musicians …

They’re mostly self-employed, so they haven’t been furloughed.

And even when they’re not operating, theatres have bills to pay. ’

‘Cinemas too,’ muttered Mum.

The people who worked at the cinema got money from the government during lockdown.

But because Holly’s parents owned the cinema, they didn’t get anything themselves.

They’d had to take out loans, as they’d had no income for months.

She’d heard them having whispered conversations about money through her bedroom wall.

‘The government has recently set up a rescue fund to help cultural organisations survive the pandemic,’ said the reporter on television. ‘But many theatres, museums and cinemas fear they won’t be able to survive another lockdown.’

‘Have we heard back from the Culture Recovery Fund yet?’ asked Dad.

‘Not yet,’ replied Mum. ‘It’s such a shame, because people could really do with a bit of escapism.’

Holly’s parents had applied for a grant so that they could host outdoor screenings while the cinema was shut. Holly hoped they got it, as drive-in movies sounded fun. She was desperate for somewhere to go – anywhere but home would do.

‘I had really hoped we could go ahead with the Twelve Films of Christmas, so we could spread some festive cheer,’ said Dad.

Something suddenly occurred to Holly. ‘We can still go to London and see Auntie Pari on my birthday weekend, right?’ Her thirteenth birthday was only a few weeks away. Last year, Pari had taken her to see Hamilton.

‘Only if the lockdown has been lifted by then,’ said Mum. ‘It wouldn’t count as “essential” travel.’

It’s essential for me, thought Holly.

‘But I can still have a birthday party, right?’ She had been planning an epic birthday sleepover party. They were going to eat pizza, give each other manicures and watch Little Women, her favourite movie.

‘Not if we’re still in lockdown,’ said Dad.

‘But that’s so stupid,’ ranted Holly. ‘My friends and I all sit together in the same classroom at school. What does it matter if we get together outside of school?’

‘We’ve got to follow the rules,’ said Mum.

The rules didn’t make any sense. Wear a mask, don’t wear a mask … Avoid restaurants, support restaurants … Take a Covid test, there are no tests …

It was the same at home – her parents were always setting stupid rules. They were super strict about her phone and wouldn’t let her go on social media.

‘We’ve all got to do our bit to protect those who are more vulnerable, like Grandma,’ said Mum.

Geraldine had given a guest lecture at a university in Wuhan last November.

She’d fallen ill as soon as she’d returned from her trip and had ended up in the hospital for several months on a ventilator, one of the UK’s first Covid cases – although they hadn’t known what it was at first. Since her illness, Holly’s grandma had suffered with breathing problems and fatigue.

She was still working at Bristol Uni, but Holly knew her mum was worried about her getting the virus again now that her immune system was weakened.

‘Don’t get your hopes up, Hol,’ cautioned Dad. ‘The virus spreads faster in winter, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the restrictions get extended.’

‘But it’s my thirteenth birthday …’ Holly said in a small voice, tears prickling her eyes.

She knew she shouldn’t be acting like a baby.

Plenty of people had it far worse than her.

Some kids at school had lost family members to Covid.

Her parents’ friend, Roger, couldn’t attend Omar’s chemotherapy appointments with him.

‘We’ll make it a special day,’ promised Mum. ‘No matter what.’

Yeah, right.

‘Happy Birthday, Holly,’ said Nick, jumping on her bed. He deposited a present tied with a ribbon on the duvet. ‘Does it feel different being a teenager?’

‘No,’ said Holly, sitting up.

It hardly mattered that it was her birthday – it wasn’t like she could do anything to celebrate. The national lockdown had been replaced with a new system of tiers. According to the newest set of rules, the cinema had to remain shut. Indoor gatherings were prohibited.

So that meant no party. No theatre trip to London. Nothing.

Well, there was chocolate cake – she could smell it baking downstairs.

‘Open your gift, Holly,’ said Nick. ‘I made it for you.’

Jonesy padded into Holly’s bedroom and jumped on the bed, not wanting to be left out.

Holly unwrapped her present. Nick had made her a room sign spelling out her name in purple LEGO bricks.

‘That’s really cool, Nick.’ She put it on her bedside table and gave her brother a hug.

She played with Jonesy for a bit, dangling the ribbon from her present.

Then Holly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

She looked in the mirror, wondering if she looked more grown-up.

She turned to the side. Nope. Her boobs hadn’t magically appeared overnight.

Mum had bought her a training bra, but she didn’t really have anything to fill it with.

Holly hadn’t got her period yet either, even though Riley had had hers for over a year and wore lacy 34C bras.

‘Everyone develops at their own pace,’ Mum had told her. But Holly hated feeling that she was being left behind.

The acne on her chin was the only sign of any hormonal activity. The pimples seemed to have multiplied overnight, like Gremlins who’d got wet. (That was one of the old movies Dad had showed her and Nick during lockdown.)

When she went downstairs for her birthday breakfast, the chocolate cake was on the table, as well as a small pile of presents and a huge badge Nick had made that read 13 TODAY.

‘Aren’t you going to put your badge on?’ asked Nick after everyone had sung ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

‘No,’ said Holly. She was too old for birthday badges.