Page 35 of Christmas at the Movies
‘I have,’ admitted James. ‘You know it’s always been my dream.’
Sarah thought of Plumdale, the village they’d got married in. It was safe and green and picture perfect. The sort of place where you could raise a family …
As if he’d read her mind, James said, ‘When we do eventually have kids, I don’t want to be working crazy hours, always at the beck and call of the board of directors.’
Neither did she.
‘If we were our own bosses,’ continued James, ‘it would be easier for you to find the time to write.’
Sarah picked up the cinema details again and studied them. She imagined it transformed into a beautiful place like the vintage cinema they’d visited today. She pictured herself writing, in a peaceful country cottage, with a view of rolling hills …
‘What do you think?’ James asked her.
At the temple, they’d made an offering to ensure good fortune. But what was the saying – fortune favours the brave. Instead of waiting around for things to change, perhaps it was time for them to make their own good luck. As long as they were in it together, what could possibly go wrong?
Looking up, she met James’s eyes and smiled.
‘Let’s do it, birthday boy. Let’s buy a cinema.’
Chapter 4
Present Day
Nick looked at the clock on the wall, willing the minute hand to move more quickly. There were still ten minutes left until the end of his maths class, and the end of the school day, but each second felt like an eternity. At the front of the classroom, Mr Wu was explaining about the properties of right angles.
It wasn’t that Nick didn’t like maths. Quite the opposite. But it was hard to concentrate on geometry when his senses were being assaulted by everything else in the classroom.
Nick’s table was next to the ancient radiator, which was making a dull clanking noise – THUD, THUD, THUD – as it blasted out hot air. The room was stifling. He was acutely aware of his shirt sticking to his back under his itchy wool blazer. Mum had cut out the tag, but he could feel a bit she’d missed rubbing against the back of his neck. Nick squirmed in his chair uncomfortably.
Grace Maxwell, who was sitting next to him, gave him a contemptuous look. She seemed to have forgotten that they used to be friends in primary school, when they both liked playing with LEGO. Nick still did. He liked dreaming up amazing creations and inventing worlds. His bedroom was cluttered with space stations and castles that he’d built and couldn’t bear to dismantle, despite what his sister said about it being babyish.
But Grace had left her LEGO days behind. She’d recently started wearing eye make-up and some sort of perfume that smelled like overly ripe strawberries. The sweet/rotten scent invaded Nick’s nostrils and made him want to throw up.
Why didn’t anyone else seem to notice these things?
‘Can anyone tell me what the hypotenuse is?’ asked Mr Wu.
Nobody put their hand up. Nick knew the answer but didn’t want to call attention to himself.
‘Anyone?’ said Mr Wu. ‘Nick?’
‘Fifteen,’ mumbled Nick.
‘Correct,’ said Mr Wu, writing on the board.
Damon Carter hissed, ‘Hey, my name is Nick and I’ve got a tiny little prick.’
Everyone around him tittered. Nick’s cheeks burnt with embarrassment. He stared down at his desk and willed himself not to cry.
The bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, and Nick’s classmates were instantly jolted out of their lethargy. They rushed out of the classroom, jostling and yelling across the room.
Nick remained in his seat, holding his hands to his ears to drown out the cacophony. As eager as he was to get home, he knew that the longer he waited, the less likely he’d have to deal with bullies like Damon Carter in the hallway.
He felt a tap on his shoulder.
‘Are you OK, Nick?’ asked Mr Wu, with a kind smile. ‘Remember, you can always go to the library if you need a time-out.’
‘I’m fine,’ Nick mumbled.
