Page 9 of Christmas at the Movies

‘Throw in a new projector too, while you’re at it,’ added Sarah.

‘If I had magic powers, I’d conjure myself young again,’ said Geraldine. ‘So I wouldn’t be stuck in the middle of nowhere, bored out of my mind.’

‘Oh, Mum,’ said Sarah sadly, a groove appearing in her forehead as she frowned.

James thought that if he had magic powers, he’d use them to make his wife’s worries disappear.

He glanced over at Pam, Vi, Roger and Olwyn, chatting over hot drinks in the café area. Maybe he didn’t need magic powers …

‘A few of our regulars live at Valley Vistas,’ said James. ‘They’re very nice.’

‘Nice,’ said Geraldine, rolling her eyes.

‘Come and meet some of them now,’ he said, taking his mother-in-law’s arm and steering her over to the others before she could object.

‘What a fab-u-lous necklace,’ exclaimed Roger as they approached. ‘Is it from Morocco?’

‘Why, yes, it is,’ said Geraldine, looking pleased. ‘You have a good eye.’

‘That’s where my late husband was from,’ explained Roger.

‘I was a visiting professor at the University of Rabat for a semester,’ said Geraldine.

‘Everyone, this is Sarah’s mum,’ announced James. ‘Geraldine recently moved to Valley Vistas.’

‘We’re neighbours!’ exclaimed Vi. ‘Pam and I live there too.’

‘How are you finding village life, Geraldine?’ asked Roger.

‘A bit dull, I’m afraid,’ said Geraldine stiffly.

‘Oh, there’s plenty of fun to be had, you just have to make your own.’ Pam pulled a silver hip flask out of her handbag and held it up, her eyes twinkling.

‘You should join us for Golden Oldies next week,’ said Olwyn. ‘James is showing The Godfather.’

‘Perhaps I will,’ replied Geraldine. ‘I’ve always had a soft spot for Al Pacino.’

‘Who doesn’t,’ said Roger and everyone laughed.

James went over to the concession stand to check on the stock levels. The boy working behind the counter had curly hair and wore a T-shirt that said Sal’s Famous Pizzeria on it.

James pointed at his shirt. ‘Do The Right Thing?’

‘Yeah,’ said Aaron. ‘I’ve been watching a lot of old Spike Lee movies lately.’

James nodded approvingly.

Aaron, who was in the final year of sixth form, worked at the cinema weekends and after school. An avid cinephile, he wanted to direct movies one day. He was a good kid and a hard worker.

James went into the stockroom to get more popcorn boxes.

As he was coming out, Holly ran into the cinema, her school backpack slung over her shoulder.

Her uniform skirt was rolled up to show off her long legs.

Every morning Sarah reminded her that it was against school uniform rules, and every morning Holly retorted that the rules were sexist. Multiple lunchtime detentions were the price their feisty daughter had paid for her principles.

James caught Aaron staring at Holly. James still thought of his daughter as his little girl, but over the past year she had blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Embarrassed, Aaron quickly averted his gaze and started vigorously polishing the counter.

‘I’ve got huge news!’ announced Holly dramatically. She slid her backpack off her shoulder and dropped it on the floor. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold outside and her blue eyes flashed with excitement.

‘Taylor Swift is doing a gig in Plumdale?’ teased James.

‘No,’ said Holly. ‘It’s even more exciting than that. Noa Drakos is making a movie right here in Plumdale!’

James and Sarah exchanged surprised looks. Now that was big news.

‘Who on earth is that?’ asked Geraldine.

‘He’s a famous director, Grandma,’ explained Holly.

‘A very handsome famous director,’ added Roger.

‘You know the one, Mum,’ prompted Sarah. ‘He won an Oscar for ANZAC, about the two soldiers who fall in love while fighting in the Battle of Gallipoli?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Geraldine. ‘I didn’t care for the battle scenes – too gory for me.’

‘It’s a masterpiece,’ said Roger. ‘He used thousands of extras to recreate those battles.’

‘It’s a great film,’ agreed James. He’d followed the Australian film-maker’s career with interest, ever since seeing his debut, a low-budget indie inspired by his mixed Greek and Polynesian heritage.

‘He hasn’t made anything recently, has he?’ asked Roger.

‘No,’ replied James. ‘His last few movies haven’t done as well.’

Holly bit her lip. ‘Speaking of extras … They’re doing an open casting for small parts next week. Can I go?’

‘When is it?’ asked Sarah.

Holly tugged at her skirt nervously, avoiding her parents’ eyes. ‘Well, that’s the thing … It’s on Tuesday morning, so I’d have to miss school – and then a few more days for the shoot if I get chosen.’

James and Sarah exchanged concerned looks. They both knew that Holly couldn’t afford to miss any more lessons. Not if she wanted to pass maths and science.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ said James. ‘This is your GCSE year.’

Sarah nodded. ‘You’ve got mocks after Christmas. You can’t miss school unless it’s something important.’

‘This is important,’ insisted Holly. ‘It could be my big break. Mocks aren’t real exams – the clue’s in the name. Besides, why do I even need to study subjects like chemistry and maths? I know I want to act.’

James’s daughter had always loved performing – ever since a scene-stealing turn as a sheep in her nursery nativity. When she’d realised her bleating had made the audience laugh, she’d milked it for all it was worth.

‘Yes, but even actors need to get their GCSEs,’ said Sarah. ‘It’s a tough profession, so it’s good to have qualifications to fall back on.’

‘Oh, wow, thanks,’ said Holly sarcastically. ‘So you’re saying you don’t think I’m good enough?’

‘That’s not what I meant—’

‘Yes, it is!’ exploded Holly. ‘That’s literally what you mean.’

‘Holly, calm down,’ said James, trying to keep the peace.

‘Don’t tell me what to do! I’m nearly sixteen!’ shouted Holly. ‘I’m practically an adult. I should be able to make my own decisions!’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Sarah. ‘But the answer is still no.’

‘I hate you!’ Holly glowered at her mother. ‘Just because you regret giving up on your dream doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on mine!’ Picking up her backpack, she stormed out of the lobby.

Sarah looked stricken, as if Holly had slapped her in the face.

‘She didn’t mean that,’ said James. He went to give Sarah a hug, but she shrugged him away.

‘She’s right,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Holly has no respect for me because I stopped writing. I gave up on my career.’ Sarah choked the words out.

Geraldine raised her eyebrow and James knew she was struggling to bite her tongue. His mother-in-law had objected when Sarah had quit her job at the BBC.

‘Don’t be daft. Of course she respects you. It’s just normal teenaged stuff,’ he appeased. ‘It’s a stage all adolescents go through.’

‘Well, actually, Margaret Mead’s study, Coming of Age in Samoa, showed that adolescence in the South Pacific wasn’t marked by conflict and rebellion,’ remarked Geraldine.

‘Not helpful, Geraldine,’ said James. Sarah had told him all about the clashes she’d had with her mother when she’d been a rebellious teenager. He put his hands on his wife’s shoulders. ‘I’ll speak with Holly. Get her to apologise.’

‘A forced apology is meaningless,’ said Sarah miserably. She looked as if she was going to cry. James wanted to comfort her, but wasn’t sure how. ‘Will you be home for dinner?’ she asked him.

‘I wish I could be,’ said James. ‘But I need to stay here until closing.’

‘Quelle surprise,’ muttered Sarah. ‘I’ll deal with Holly on my own. As usual.’

Taking her mother’s arm, she headed for the door.

‘Sarah!’ James called after her. ‘Wait!’

But she didn’t turn around.

He wanted to join them for dinner. Of course he did!

But it just wasn’t possible. They’d had to cut back on staff costs, but there always needed to be at least two people on duty for health-and-safety reasons.

James couldn’t afford to take on a night manager, so most nights it fell to him to work late.

What else could he do? Didn’t Sarah understand that he was just barely keeping the place afloat?

That he was trying to provide for his family?

They’d had several full-time employees when they’d first opened the cinema, but now they could only afford part-time staff like Aaron.

So James wasn’t just the cinema’s general manager, he also sold tickets, made coffees, restocked toilet paper in the bathroom, scooped popcorn and swept up spilled kernels after the show had finished. He did whatever needed to be done.

And right now, the café area needed tidying. A cleaning company came in every night, but it was up to staff to keep the cinema looking good during the day. So James swept up the biscuit crumbs and collected the empty teacups that the Golden Oldies had left behind.

Once the next movie was underway, James slipped into the auditorium to do a screen check. The picture was still slightly off-kilter and the sound was crackling. He winced.

So far, he had managed to repair the sound system’s problems. At some point soon, though, they’d need to install a new system. And those didn’t come cheap …

He went into the office and checked his emails. The code for a new action-adventure film opening tomorrow was in his inbox. Back when they had first opened the cinema, films would be delivered in heavy metal canisters. Now, all he needed was a code to unlock the content.

There was also a message from the manager of a cinema in Evesham.

The Picture Palace and a few other independent cinemas in the Cotswolds had formed a consortium to share resources.

They were all struggling, and banding together would hopefully make them stronger.

Because of his IT background, James had volunteered to build a website for the group.

Though he wasn’t exactly sure when he was going to find the time to do it.