Page 104 of Christmas at the Movies
Nick started to cry too.
‘Why areyoucrying?’ demanded Holly, glaring at him. ‘Your birthday hasn’t been ruined.’
‘I’m crying because you’re sad,’ said Nick, sniffing. He put his arms around Holly, getting chocolate fingerprints on her favourite top.
When her brother was little, her parents had thought he might be autistic. But it turned out that he was just a HSP – a highly sensitive person. His nervous system was more sensitive than most people’s. Dad had explained osmosis to her when she’d been learning about it in science. He’d got the sponge from the kitchen sink and demonstrated how it absorbed water. Well, that was Nick – he sucked up people’s emotions.
Normally, Holly tried to be understanding of her brother. Today, however, she was not in the mood for his overreaction.
‘Get over yourself, Nick,’ she snapped, pushing him away in annoyance.
‘Look, I know this isn’t the day you wanted, Holly,’ said Mum. ‘But let’s try to make the best of it, OK.’
Holly spent the day curled up on the sofa reading her new book. Mum made macaroni cheese – her favourite – for lunch. Auntie Pari called to wish her a happy birthday and promised to take her to see a musical as soon as theatres reopened.
But there were still no messages from her friends.
‘Let’s get takeaway pizza for dinner,’ suggested Dad as the sun began to set.
‘Good idea,’ said Mum. ‘We can all go collect it.’
‘Why?’ asked Holly. All she wanted to do was lie on the sofa and mope.
Dad jingled his car keys. ‘It’ll do you good to get out of the house.’
Sighing dramatically, Holly put on her new trainers and got into the car. They drove into the village and collected the pizza from the Rose and Crown; the local pub had started doing takeaway pizzas during lockdown. Across the road, the cinema looked cold and empty with all its lights off.
‘Why are we going this way?’ Holly asked Dad as they drove home. They were heading into the countryside instead of back home.
‘I must have taken a wrong turning,’ said Dad. ‘I’ll turn around up here.’
‘The pizzas will get cold,’ grumbled Holly.
Dad turned up the path to a farm. Ian Griffiths, wearing a high-vis vest, was directing a steady flow of incoming traffic.
Holly peered out of the window. ‘What’s going on? Why are there so many people here?’
Nick giggled, then covered his mouth.
Dad turned into the field, which was filled with cars parked in neat rows. There was a big inflatable screen at the other end of the field.
‘Surprise!’ shouted Mum, Dad and Nick.
Dad drove right to the front row. Everyone in the field tooted their car horns as they went past, a cacophony of beeps ringing out across the countryside.
‘I don’t understand …’ said Holly.
‘It’s your birthday party!’ squealed Nick.
‘Our grant application was approved,’ explained Dad, parking the car. ‘We rented an outdoor screen, so we can do the Twelve Films of Christmas as a drive-in festival this year.’
‘But today is just for you and your friends,’ said Mum, smiling. ‘You can’t have a sleepover – but you can still have pizza and watch a movie.’
‘I knew!’ said Nick, bouncing excitedly on the back seat next to Holly. ‘But I had to keep it a secret.’
Mum and Dad had invited all their family and friends, and everyone in Holly’s year.
‘Happy Birthday, Holly!’ shouted Riley, leaning out of her mum’s car. ‘You didn’t think we’d actually forget your birthday, did you?’
