Page 15 of Christmas at the Movies
Now theatre management software programmed everything to run automatically – from when the projector lamp turned on to when the trailers played. But Roger still came to the Picture Palace regularly, to make sure that his high standards were being maintained.
‘I didn’t see you here last week,’ said James. ‘I showedCitizen Kane.’
‘I was visiting my nephew in Oxford. We went to see the new Wes Anderson film at the local multiplex.’ Roger shook his head disparagingly. ‘It made my blood boil – £12.50 for a ticket and they can’t even be bothered to mask the screen.’
James winced. It was a pet peeve they shared, a sign that a cinema didn’t care at all about the audience’s viewing experience.
‘Must have been nice to see Jonny, though,’ said James.
Roger nodded. ‘Yes, it was. I get lonely, you know.’ His eyes filled with tears and he dabbed at them with a paisley-printed handkerchief from the pocket of his waistcoat.
Omar had passed away two years ago and Roger was still grieving the loss of his soulmate. James didn’t know how he’d cope if he lost Sarah. He’d known she was The One from the very first time they met. They had always been a team, throughout their long and happy marriage.
Or at least, hethoughtit was a happy marriage.
Their disagreement from the day before popped into his head as he cleaned the lenses of Roger’s glasses.
Every couple argues sometimes, he told himself. It’s normal.
And yet, he couldn’t help feeling worried. Sarah had seemed so angry and he wasn’t sure why.
James handed Roger back his glasses, now repaired. ‘You know you’re always welcome here, Roger,’ he said. ‘Pop in for a cup of tea any time.’
Roger wandered off to get a biscuit.
‘James, dear,’ said one of the cinema’s patrons. ‘Would you mind taking a look at one of my wheels – it’s a bit sticky.’
‘No problem,’ replied James amiably. ‘Probably just needs a bit of WD40.’ He got satisfaction from fixing things and the people he helped were always very grateful.
He got the walker running smoothly, changed the batteries in someone’s hearing aid, then showed Pam how to use her new smartphone.
‘Oh, how wonderful,’ enthused Pam, as he explained how to use the camera and video functions.
‘You can also set alarms to remind you when to take medicines,’ said James, talking Pam through the clock features.
‘You youngsters are so good with technology,’ said Olwyn admiringly.
James chuckled. He certainly didn’t feel like a youngster. He had turned fifty on his last birthday. He was now the age his mother had been when she’d passed away suddenly from a stroke. His father had died quite young as well. James had been all too aware of his own mortality after his milestone birthday. He’d stopped eating biscuits and started taking long bike rides to get his heart pumping. Every morning, his legs pedalled as fast as they could down country lanes, feeling like he was racing against Death. He could practically feel the Grim Reaper, in a yellow jersey, spandex cycling shorts and helmet, breathing down his neck.
When he had finished all his repairs, James went to put his toolbox away. The weekly repair shop was just one of the ways in which the Picture Palace was so much more than just a place to watch films. It was a community space, for everyone from little kids to their elderly grandparents.
Owning his own cinema had always been James’s dream. But it was getting tougher and tougher to keep that dream alive. People had stopped going to the cinema during the Covid lockdowns, and ticket sales still hadn’t returned to pre-pandemic levels. Perhaps they never would. Streaming services meant that people didn’t need to leave their living rooms to watch the latest releases. With sky-rocketing energy prices and cost of living at an all time high, it hadnever been a more challenging time to own a cinema. Even the nationwide cinema chains were closing branches and going out of business. So what hope did a tiny independent with only one screen have?
But Plumdaleneededa cinema. It was the beating heart of the village. No matter how hard it was, James knew he couldn’t let his community down. People like Pam and Roger were counting on him. So he was determined to keep the cinema going, even though these days it felt like a Herculean task.
When he came back out to the lobby, he found Sarah and her mum.
‘Sorry I missed the Golden Oldies,’ said Sarah. ‘But I’ve brought my own.’
‘Hilarious,’ said her mother, rolling her eyes.
James’s mother-in-law had long, snow-white hair. Tall and slim like her daughter, she was wearing a woven tunic and a beaded necklace. Her sharp eyes peered at James through glasses with bright red frames.
‘Did you know that some Native American tribes practised senicide?’ Geraldine asked him, in lieu of a greeting.
‘Senicide?’ asked James, indulging her. His mother-in-law was never happier than when she was giving a lecture.
‘Killing the elderly when resources were scarce,’ explained Geraldine.
