Page 58 of Christmas at the Movies
They turned onto Pari’s road. She lived in a row of brightly coloured houses – hers was pastel pink. James located a key, hidden in a plant pot, and opened the door.
The kitchen was like something out of a luxury interiors magazine. With its marble island, sleek cupboards and special tap that dispensed boiling water, it couldn’t have been more different to the cosy but rustic kitchen at home.
‘I’m going to live in a house like this one day when I’m a rich and famous actor,’ announced Holly, dropping her shopping bags on the granite floor.
James chuckled. ‘You should have seen the house Pari and your mum shared in their twenties. Mice, mould and pants drying on the radiators …’
He opened the massive fridge. It was empty apart from a bottle of Prosecco, a shrivelled lemon, a lump of cheese and a half-eaten container of takeout sushi. Some things hadn’t changed …
‘Let’s order in some food for dinner,’ he suggested, scrolling through a delivery app on his phone.
When their noodles arrived, they settled down in Pari’s living room, which had an orange velvet sofa and wallpaper with parrots on it.
‘Oh, my God – is this Mum?’ said Holly, spotting a framed picture on the bookcase.
In the photo, Sarah’s arm was slung around Pari’s shoulder in a crowded field. She was wearing a short slip dress, Doc Martens and sunglasses, and holding a pint glass.
‘OMG. She had a nose ring,’ said Holly, peering at the photo. ‘And purple hair.’
‘I took that photo. We went to a music festival shortly after they both started working at the BBC – that was actually the first time I met Pari.’
‘They look so young,’ commented Holly.
It was Sarah’s smile that struck James, more than her youthful appearance. He’d seen that smile again this morning, when she’d told him about her new gig. She was so happy, she’d been practically glowing. Seeing her fizzing with excitement had made him realise how much she needed this. The film director’s sudden appearance in their lives did truly feel like a Christmas miracle.
Though, if he was being honest, he hadn’t loved the fact that she’d spent all night alone with him. The Aussie director had a reputation as a ladies’ man. It had been bothering him all day, even though he knew his reaction was ridiculous – Sarah had never given him any reason not to trust her. He supposed he was just feeling a bit jealous because a stranger had found the solution to the cinema’s problems, instead of him.
‘Let’s watch a Christmas movie,’ said Holly, slurping up some noodles.
James switched on the television and browsed through the streaming services. ‘They’ve gotHome Alone. That’s what your mum was watching the night she went into labour with you.’
‘Really? You guys never told me that.’
James didn’t like talking about it because it had been the most scared he’d ever been. But Holly was sixteen now. She was old enough to hear the story. Old enough to know what her mum had gone through to bring her into the world. ‘When Mum was in labour, I thought we were going to lose you. And her.’
Holly put down her chopsticks and stared at him. ‘What happened?’
‘You didn’t want to come out. That should have been our first clue that you were going to be stubborn.’
‘Ha ha.’
‘And then when they finally got you out, your mum suffered a post-partum haemorrhage.’ James could still remember every detail of that horrible moment as if it were yesterday – the heart-rate monitor beeping, doctors rushing in, blood gushing.
‘What’s that?’ Holly asked. Her face looked so innocent, it was hard to believe she was nearly grown-up.
‘Bleeding after giving birth,’ he explained. ‘Luckily, the doctors managed to get it under control, but it was touch-and-go for a while. Your mother was such a trooper – all she cared about was whether you were OK.’
Holly’s blue eyes welled with tears. ‘Poor Mum.’
‘Hey,’ said James, giving her a hug. ‘She was fine in the end. And it was all worth it because we got you.’
Holly snuggled up next to James and he put on the movie. He’d have been happy to watch anything – he just felt lucky to share this precious moment with Holly. It impossible to imagine a world without his daughter in it.
WhenHome Alonewas over, Holly switched off the telly. ‘That movie is so funny.’
‘Apparently it only took John Hughes nine days to write the first draft of the screenplay,’ said James. ‘And speaking of screenplays – I’m going to call Mum and find out how she’s getting on.’
Kissing Holly goodnight, he rang his wife.
