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‘How much is this print worth?’ Zara asked, in the car on the way back to the cinema. They were being followed by Deborah's green Jag.

‘Last time anyone made me an offer, it was about ten grand,’ Tess told her. Her phone beeped. ‘OK, Fi knows it’s a go. She’s letting everyone in.’

‘Great,’ Zara said.

‘She better not fuck that up somehow,’ Tess muttered to herself.

‘Why didn’t you sell it before, this print? If it could have relieved some debt? You could have gotten out of the hole,’ Zara asked. She sort of knew what the answer would be, but she had to ask for the sake of her sanity.

Tess laughed like she’d said something funny. ‘There’s always a hole. That print is fucking rare.’

‘But you’re giving it away now?’ Zara asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I think… I think you’re right. Today is a restart. I want it to be perfect. I need Vertigo for that. I don’t need Wings of Desire.’

As they neared The Eclipse Cinema, Zara felt anxiety in her stomach. She should have been relieved—they’d managed to secure the Vertigo reel, and the movie would start on time. But knowing that the reel was precious to Tess, something that had belonged to her mother, that she was making such a big sacrifice? It didn’t feel good. Even though it made total sense to Zara, she wished that it didn’t, that she could, that Tess… She just wished there was another way.

Zara glanced out the window, watching the town’s familiar streets blur past. It wasn’t just the reel that bothered her. It was that dreadful woman. Even now, with Deborah following them in her sleek Jaguar, Zara could sense her presence looming like a shadow.

‘How long were you two together?’ Zara asked quietly, not entirely sure why she was even asking.

Tess exhaled. ‘Too long,’ she muttered.

‘You never talked about her,’ Zara said.

‘There’s not much to say,’ Tess replied, her tone flat.

But Zara caught the glimmer of something more under Tess’s nonchalance. The feelings for Deborah weren’t gone. They were just buried beneath anger. That was clear to Zara. And who wouldn’t be magnetised by that creature? Awful as she was, she had something undeniable.

They arrived at the cinema just as the last of the crowd was filtering in. Tess parked the car, and without a word, they both got out. Deborah’s Jaguar pulled up behind them, and she stepped out, her eyes sweeping over the modest exterior of The Eclipse with a kind of detached amusement.

‘Well, well,’ she said wryly. ‘The old girl’s looking good.’ She went into the boot and pulled out a case, the Vertigo reel.

Tess ignored the comment. ‘Come on.’ She headed inside, and Zara followed her.

In the lobby, there was a wonderful buzz. People were excited to see the place. Fi and Dylan were tearing tickets. It was a shame that Tess couldn’t get to enjoy this moment.

‘Take her into my office,’ Tess said to Zara. ‘And watch her.’

Zara nodded.

‘You afraid I’m going to set the place on fire?’ Deborah asked.

‘Wouldn’t put it past you,’ Tess tossed over her shoulder, vanishing into the crowd.

‘Let’s go to the office, shall we?’ Zara said and started walking. Deborah followed.

They went into the office, and Deborah went straight to Tess’s chair, making herself comfortable and plopping the Vertigo reel on the desk. Zara felt a strong urge to kick the chair over. It was crazy how quickly she hated this woman.

Once Deborah had made herself comfortable, she looked around the office. ‘Funny to think I had sex in here so many times,’ she commented.

Zara let out a snort of disgust, the first time she’d really let her anger slip.

Deborah cast a glance at Zara. ‘Business advisor, was it?’ Deborah said, her voice dripping with condescension. ‘Interesting dynamic you two have.’

Zara stiffened, unsure whether to defend herself or let it go. She opted for silence.

Tess walked in, a metal case in her hands. She didn’t seem to notice the tension radiating from Zara. She was too focused on the task at hand. Zara had never seen Tess look at anything the way she looked at that reel—a mix of pride, nostalgia, and sadness. She hesitated, just for a moment, before handing it over to Deborah, who accepted it with a self-satisfied smile.

‘Always knew I’d get my hands on this one day,’ Deborah murmured, holding the reel like it was some kind of trophy.

Tess didn’t respond. She simply grabbed Vertigo off the desk, turned, and walked out. ‘Bye, Deborah,’ she said casually.

Zara was gratified to see that Deborah looked disappointed at how undramatic the exchange had turned out to be. She’d wanted more out of this, Zara could see.

The door shut behind Tess. Zara and Deborah were alone again. ‘I think you can go now,’ Zara said.

Deborah stood, cradling Wings of Desire like a baby. She walked towards the door and Zara thought she would just leave. How silly.

‘You should know,’ Deborah said at the door, flicking a look over her shoulder. ‘She doesn’t love anything but this place. You won’t change that.’

Zara bristled, but before she could respond, she heard Tess distantly calling her, snapping her out of the strange mood that had settled over her since they’d left Deborah’s estate.

‘Goodbye, Deborah,’ Zara said as professionally as she could muster. The woman gave her one last trademark smirk and walked out with her prize in her arms.

Once she was sure Deborah was gone, Zara walked into the hall to see the door to the projection booth open.

‘Zara!’ Tess called again.

Zara trotted to the door. Stepping into the projection booth was like entering a hidden command centre. The air was cooler, carrying a faint whiff of machinery oil and stale popcorn. The room was dimly lit, with a warm glow emanating from the old projector. It hummed quietly, a mechanical heartbeat that filled the space. A small window was cut into the wall, and through it, Zara could just about see the vast, darkened theatre below.

Zara couldn’t believe she’d never come in here before. The room was gorgeous.

Tess was watching Jerry spool the Vertigo reel onto the machine. Zara felt like a spare part. ‘Is there something I can help with?’ she asked Tess doubtfully.

‘No. I just think you should be here for this,’ Tess said briefly, not meeting her eye.

From her spot by the door, Zara watched Jerry with a growing sense of awe. He stood hunched over the projector, his fingers tracing the film like it was some kind of sacred artefact. Jerry, for all his gruffness, was having a moment. Zara could see it in the way his hands moved, slow and careful as he threaded the reel through the projector’s mechanism.

Zara found herself holding her breath as Jerry finished threading the film, stepping back slightly, his hand lingering on the projector as if he didn’t want to let go.

Tess, still watching, asked him softly, ‘You ready?’

He gave a small nod, his voice low and gruff. ‘I’m ready.’

Jerry flipped a switch, and the projector came to life with a satisfying hum. The light from the lens burst forward, and Zara watched as the opening credits of Vertigo flickered across the far wall. The room was filled with tense orchestral music, and for a moment, Zara felt a shiver run down her spine.

Jerry stood back, his gaze fixed on the screen. Tess placed a hand on his shoulder and said, ‘Thanks.’

He nodded.

Zara felt that feeling again that she’d felt at Deborah’s. It was the feeling of being outside, of being envious of this world and the people in it, so connected by this thing: cinema.

Was that all it was, though?

Zara's jaw clenched as she replayed Deborah’s words in her mind, the smugness in her voice when she’d held the reel in her hands and insinuated that Tess could only really care for The Eclipse.

Zara gave the feeling its true name at last. It was jealousy. Of anything that could truly hold Tess’s attention. Gruff, sarcastic, guarded Tess. Compelling, sharp-witted, passionate Tess. Angry Tess. Sexy Tess. Stubborn Tess. Charismatic Tess.

Beautiful Tess.

Zara shook her head, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t be jealous. She had no reason to be. Tess was her business partner. The only thing that linked them was the building they were standing in.

Yet every time she thought of Tess and Deborah’s history, of the way they’d spoken to each other with such familiarity and contempt, of the spark that still lingered between them, something inside Zara twisted.

Tess glanced over at Zara as if sensing her unease, her gaze softening for just a moment. ‘You OK?’ she asked, almost concerned.

Zara forced a smile, nodding quickly. ‘Yeah,’ she lied. ‘Just… taking it all in.’

Tess gave her a brief, understanding look before turning her attention back to the screen.

As the film played, Zara leaned against the wall. I’m so fucked, she thought.