Page 16

Tess led Zara into the newly patched-up office, closing the door to muffle the sounds of the renovations outside. The office was now freshly painted, but the furniture was the same and would stay the same until Tess was dragged kicking and screaming from the place. It wasn’t the expense of buying new, it was the attachment. Her mother and her grandparents had sat in this chair, at this desk. Tess couldn’t exactly replace them at Ikea.

Tess sat down behind the desk, the old leather chair squeaking as she leaned back, watching Zara with cautious eyes.

Zara set her folder on the desk and sat in the other chair, poised to dive into her pitch. Tess didn’t know if she was ready to hear it. But she was the bank's bitch now. No choice.

‘So,’ Tess said, arms crossed, trying to keep her tone light, ‘let’s hear what you’ve got.’

Zara, ever collected, opened her folder and slid a sheet of paper toward her. ‘I’ve been thinking about ways to draw people in. The films, of course, are still the heart of it all, but it’s not enough to just show a movie and hope for the best. We need to create cinematic events that feel like something people can’t miss.’

Tess glanced at the paper but didn’t pick it up. ‘Events like what?’ she asked, leaning forward slightly, her interest piqued despite herself.

‘Picture this,’ Zara said, sitting up straighter. ‘Classic film marathons, where we show trilogies or themed weekends around a specific director or genre. We could do ‘80s action nights, foreign film weekends, or even a silent film series with live musical accompaniment. Make it an event, not just a screening. Something worth dressing up for, worth talking about.’

Tess considered it. She knew other places did things like that. She’d always found it a bit gauche. ‘Go on,’ she said slowly.

Zara brightened. ‘Think about a director’s cut screening with an introduction from a local film critic or even a Q&A with someone from the industry. People want something they can’t just watch on their TV at home. We create those experiences, and they’ll come.’

OK, when Zara put it like that, it made some kind of sense. Tess tapped her fingers on the desk, mulling it over. ‘It sounds interesting,’ she admitted, ‘but is it enough? I mean, this place has been struggling for years. What if themed nights aren’t enough to save it?’

Zara leaned in, her voice lowering slightly. ‘It won’t just be themed nights. We turn these events into something regular—something people mark their calendars for. Monthly cult film nights where we screen classics like The Rocky Horror Picture Show or The Big Lebowski with dressing up. Horror marathons in October, leading up to Halloween.’

‘Those are such clichés,’ Tess moaned.

‘Why does that matter?’ Zara asked.

‘Because it’s… I… If you…’ Oh fuck. Tess didn’t have an answer.

‘I think you should also consider a loyalty programme,’ Zara said, moving on.

‘I would do that,’ Tess agreed. That was an easy compromise. She’d thought of that herself but never gotten around to it.

‘And I think you need a bar licence,’ Zara said.

‘We don’t have a bar,’ Tess pointed out.

‘That’s the other thing. You need a bar,’ Zara told her.

‘What?!’ Tess spluttered.

‘We’d put it in the basement. There’s a lot of space down there.’

‘It’s storage,’ Tess pointed out.

‘Does it need to be?’ Zara asked.

It didn’t. They didn’t need to house old broken chairs. The posters and reels stored down there could go in a cupboard. She wasn’t quite ready to concede yet, though. ‘How do we know we’d get the licence?’

‘I’ve already put in a call to the council. They're sending someone this afternoon. They’ll be able to tell if we can start building pretty quickly.’

‘Sweet Jesus, you didn’t even know if I’d agree?’ Tess asked, pissed off.

‘I was just being optimistic about you seeing the merit,’ Zara said breezily.

Tess actually thought it was a good idea, but it was quickly tempered by her ever-present doubt. ‘It sounds good on paper, Zara. But you know how tight the margins are.’

Zara gave a small smile. ‘It’s gonna cost you a bit extra, but we built some cushion into the budget, right? I can negotiate it with the builders. They’re already here. I can talk to them today, get an idea of the cost. But if you had a bar, in terms of investment, it’s a no-brainer. Besides the money you’d make with a bar in the cinema, you could rent the place out for all sorts of events.’

Tess chewed it over, her eyes drifting to a framed photo of her mother standing in front of the cinema. A bar? Would she like that? Would she hate it? Tess didn’t know.

Zara must have noticed her hesitation because she leaned back slightly, softening her approach. ‘Look, I’m not here to tear anything down, Tess. I’m here to build it up. Make what it already is that much better.’

Tess exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. But Zara had a point. Everyone liked a bar. It was money in the hand. And it took nothing from the cinema itself.

She met Zara’s eyes, the faint glimmer of hope starting to outweigh the fear. ‘Alright,’ she said, her voice firm. ‘See what you can do.’

Zara’s smile widened. ‘I’ll talk to the builders and get that quote. Oh, and while I’ve got you, I wanted to talk about the opening. I’m thinking we’ll start with something simple—a classics theme night. Maybe a Hitchcock series? We’ll make it an event, and if it works, we’ll build from there.’

‘I’ll think it over,’ Tess said evenly.

But she thought it was probably quite a good idea. However, she was not prepared to start kissing Zara’s arse. She’d given enough today. If Zara started thinking all her ideas were going to be taken, she would push further. She’d want something Tess hated and by that point, Tess wouldn’t be able to say no.

Zara grinned, standing up and gathering her things. ‘Perfect. What dates have you been given for completion?’

‘Well, we’re hoping for two months.’

‘Wow, that’s fast.’

‘Yeah, I thought it would take longer. But some things have lasted pretty well as it turns out. The floor, most of the walls, the screen, they’re all in good nick. We don’t have to rip everything up and start again. Just electrics, plumbing, and redecoration. Oh, and of course, we need to replace seating, curtains, carpets. You know, seeing as they stink,’ Tess said with a thin smile.

Zara smiled dryly. ‘Look, I hope… I know there’s pressure to get back up and running fast, but I hope you’re not cutting corners.’

‘What?’ Tess asked. Dammit, she was pissed off again. She’d been so close to getting Zara out of the office without an eruption.

‘I just mean… I know there was some of that… before. And long term, it’s caused more problems,’ Zara pressed.

‘My mother, you mean? Yeah. She did. Probably because she felt she had to,’ Tess told her.

‘I don’t doubt that—’ Zara began.

‘If you want to tell me what to do, go ahead. I have to take it now, I guess. I took the deal with the devil. But don’t talk about my mum,’ Tess told her flatly. ‘You don’t know what she did for this place, how hard she worked to keep it running.’

‘I wasn’t trying to…’ Zara began. Then she gave up, which was wise. ‘What’s the next outdoor screening?’

Tess let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘What do you think we should show?’

Zara’s eyes widened like she’d stuck a wet fork in a socket. ‘Oh. Umm, well, I do have a recommendation, as it happens.’

‘Go on.’

‘Get Out?’ Zara said nervously.

Tess blinked. ‘Get Out?’

‘I’ve been doing some research, and it’s still very popular. It’ll probably sell well. And it still falls under the remit of an independent movie, despite its huge box office—’

Tess decided to put Zara out of her misery. ‘Alright.’

Zara looked suspicious. ‘Really?’

Tess shrugged. ‘It’s a good movie.’

Zara was looking at Tess with pride. Tess didn’t like it. Yes, she was showing a somewhat more accessible movie than she usually did. But Zara needn’t think she was getting soft. ‘But next time, I’m showing something with subtitles.’

‘You’re the boss,’ Zara said and turned to go.

Tess hated how smugly she said that. Because it wasn’t true and Zara knew it. She could let it slide. ‘I’m doing what you want, but I need you to remember, this isn’t your world. It’s mine,’ Tess said.

Zara’s green eyes did that thing again. The looking-through-her thing. ‘OK, Tess. Whatever you say.’

As Zara headed out of the office, Tess leaned back in her chair, her eyes drifting once again to the photo of her mum. ‘I hope you’re OK with this, Mum,’ she said. ‘It’s not exactly how you ran things, but maybe this is how we keep it alive.’

Her mum, as ever, said nothing.