Page 41 of Christmas at the Movies
After they finished their coffees, Sean took out a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and tapped them on the table. Getting up, he headed out of the cinema’s back door to have a smoke in the car park. James noticed that it was empty. The only vehicles were their car and Roger’s. ‘What if nobody comes?’
‘They’ll come,’ said Sarah confidently. She went back to working on her laptop.
‘Let’s run the trailers,’ suggested Roger. ‘Just to check Groucho is working OK.’
They went upstairs to the tiny projection room. James took the reel of film from its metal cannister and, supervised by Roger, loaded it onto the top of the projector. One of the biggest surprises was how much physical strength it required. Roger’s wiry arms were strong from years of loading heavy film cannisters onto projectors.
James threaded the 35mm film through various cylinders, fitting the holes running along the edge of the film into the moving sprockets that gripped it in place. It was a delicate operation, as the tension had to be exactly right.
Roger watched James’s every move. ‘Make sure the film isn’t twisted.’
James tinkered with the amount of clearance, then twisted the framing knob and focus knob, making minute adjustments.
‘Always remember to check – and then double-check,’ said Roger patiently.
James opened the projector’s lamp house and turned the motor on. The top reel spun anti-clockwise, feeding film through the projector, then onto the bottom reel, whichspun clockwise. As if by magic, an image appeared on the cinema screen as the trailers played.
‘Looks good to me,’ said James.
Roger turned the focus knob a few millimetres, making a minute adjustment. Once satisfied, he prepared the feature presentation, making sure the cue marks were perfectly positioned to ensure a seamless changeover.
‘We’re ready,’ he announced once he had finished.
James went back downstairs to change into smart clothes for the grand opening. In the office, he put on a suit for the first time since giving up his software job, while Sarah slipped into a dark green dress. It matched the emerald necklace Sean had given her as a wedding gift.
‘I’ve never been so nervous,’ said James, doing up his shirt buttons. ‘Not even on our wedding day.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Should I be offended by that?’
‘Not at all. I knew I wasn’t making a mistake marrying you,’ said James. ‘But I’m not so sure about the cinema. What if we’ve just spent two years of our lives, and our entire savings, on something that doesn’t succeed.’
He was aware of everything Sarah had given up so that he could pursue his dream.
‘It will be a success,’ Sarah assured him, straightening his tie. She pushed the hair out of his eyes and then gave him a kiss. ‘How could it not be when so many people have come together to help us?’
‘Well, here goes,’ said James. Taking Sarah’s hand, he went into the lobby and flung open the cinema doors.
Ian Griffiths, who ran an antique shop a few doors down, was the first to arrive. A volunteer from the Plumdale Beautification Society, he’d helped with the renovations. Ian had hooked them up with an upholsterer and the skilled craftsman who had restored their stucco mouldings.
Next to turn up was Pam, the librarian who had helped them with their research. A short middle-aged woman, she was wearing a hand-knitted mohair jumper. She looked around the lobby admiringly. ‘It’s so good to be back in here. I took my kids to see movies here most Saturdays when they were little. I was so sad when this place shut down in 1976.’
‘At least it didn’t become a bingo hall,’ said her best friend, Olwyn Powell, a teacher from the next village over. ‘That’s what happened to a lot of these old art deco cinemas.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Vi, a trendy-looking local artist who had curated the display in the café. ‘I don’t mind a bit of bingo.’
‘I had my first kiss here, in the back row of the stalls,’ Ian told Sarah and James. ‘During a screening ofJaws.’
‘Who was the lucky lady?’ asked Sarah.
Ian’s eyes twinkled. ‘A gentleman never tells.’
‘Pari!’ squealed Sarah, noticing her best friend come in. Pari had used her contacts in the comedy world to help the cinema. She’d organised a fundraising gig and got big-name comedians to donate.
James gave Pari a hug. ‘It’s good of you to come.’
‘It worked out well,’ said Pari. ‘I have a gig in Oxford tomorrow. Besides, I know how much this means to you both.’
Pari still juggled working at the BBC with plugging away at her stand-up. James wasn’t sure why she hadn’t made it big yet – she was funnier than most people on TV.
