Page 4 of Christmas at the Movies
‘So, um, what do your parents teach?’ James asked, trying to distract himself from her long, elegant neck as she swallowed her drink.
‘They’re both anthropologists. Mum’s a cultural anthropologist and Dad’s a linguistic anthropologist. But I won’t bore you with the difference.’
‘You could never bore me,’ said James truthfully.
Sarah met his gaze, the gold in her eyes seeming to sparkle, and everything else – the noise from the kitchen, the click of chopsticks, the low murmur of the other diners – faded away. It was as if they were the only two people in the restaurant. James felt like she could see right into his soul.
‘Your food,’ said the waiter, breaking the spell and piling an array of dishes onto the white tablecloth.
Famished, they feasted on crispy spring rolls, deliciously greasy chicken chow mein and fried rice flecked with lurid green peas and bright pink pork.
‘What about you?’ Sarah asked him, dipping a spring roll in chilli sauce. ‘Why didn’t you go home for Christmas?’
‘Londonishome,’ he explained, taking a sip of his beer. ‘I grew up in Ealing.’
He’d stayed in London for uni because Imperial’s engineering department was one of the best in the world. And because he didn’t want to be too far from his dad. It had been just the two of them ever since his mum had passed away when he was fifteen.
Sarah’s face brightened with recognition. ‘I’ve never been there, but I love all the old Ealing comedies.The Lavender Hill Mob, The Ladykillers, Passport to Pimlico…’
James and Sarah traded film recommendations – classic and contemporary – and quoted favourite lines until not even a grain of rice remained. Apart from his dad, he’d never met anyone else quite as obsessed with cinema.
‘I’m impressed,’ said James. ‘You know a lot about movies.’
‘I want to make them one day,’ confided Sarah.
‘You’re an actor?’ he asked. That wasn’t surprising – she certainly had the looks for it.
Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I’m a writer – or at least trying to be. I’m working on a screenplay.’ She raised an eyebrow teasingly. ‘You won’t like it – it’s a romantic comedy.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I might be warming up to romcoms.’ James was starting to think he’d been too quick to write off a whole genre.
They both reached for the last spring roll, their fingers touching.
‘You have it,’ said James gallantly.
‘No, that’s OK,’ she said.
Neither of them pulled their hand away. As they looked in each other’s eyes, James moved his index finger ever so slightly, stroking hers. Sarah curled her finger around his in response, so they were linked.
‘So, James,’ said Sarah, her voice low. ‘What doyouwant?’
You.
But he knew she was asking what he wanted to do after graduation. It was a question he asked himself nearly every day. With only two more terms left, he was on track to get a first. He’d always been good at maths and science. Words, on the other hand, were tricky for him. He was dyslexic, and it was hard for him to keep the words from jumping about on the page. That was one of the reasons he loved cinema so much – it was a way to enjoy stories told in pictures.
‘I’m applying for master’s degrees. But can I tell you a secret?’
Sarah nodded and leant forward in anticipation. Her face was so close, James longed to close the gap with a kiss. Instead, he confided something he’d never told anyone else before – not even Kim. But he instinctively knew that Sarah would understand.
‘I want to own my own cinema.’ It didn’t sound like a very lofty ambition. Everyone knew that videos were killing off cinemas. But they were his happy place and James couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.
Except, maybe, the girl sitting across the table from him.
Sarah let out a dreamy sigh. ‘That sounds heavenly. Just imagine being able to watch movies all day long …’
Jameshadimagined it. He even knew what he would call his cinema – the Picture Palace.
‘Shit!’ Pulling her hand away, Sarah jumped to her feet. ‘What time is it?’
