Page 92 of Christmas at the Movies
‘Look at this,’ said Sarah, pointing to the flyer on the noticeboard. ‘They run special screenings for senior citizens.’
‘What a great idea,’ said James. ‘We could do something like that at the Picture Palace – there are lots of retired people in the area.’
‘Daddy!’ cried Holly, rushing ahead to the concession stand. ‘Please can we get popcorn?’
‘Popcorn!’ clamoured Nick, jumping up and down.
James bought snacks, then they made their way into the auditorium.
‘Fingers crossed this wasn’t a terrible idea,’ said Sarah,as they took their seats.
The film’s rating was a 12, but it seemed worth the risk. They had some old Spider-Man comics at home from when James was a boy and Nick loved to look at the pictures.
At first, Nick seemed to be enjoying the film until a bomb blew up the Washington Monument on screen …
‘I don’t like it!’ Nick cried.
‘It’s OK,’ whispered Sarah. ‘It’s not real. It’s just a movie.’
Moments later, another explosion in the film ripped a ferry in half.
Nick promptly began to howl. He wriggled off Sarah’s lap, spilling a box of popcorn, and began to have a tantrum, thrashing around on the cinema floor.
‘Tais-toi!’ hissed someone in the row behind. James could feel angry eyes burning into his back as he stood up.
The whole family exited the cinema as quickly as if Spider-Man’s nemesis, the Green Goblin, was chasing them.
‘The big baby spoils yet another thing,’ grumbled Holly in the lobby.
‘I can take Nick back to the cottage if you and Holly want to watch the rest of the film,’ said Sarah.
‘No,’ said James. ‘This is our family holiday. We should stick together.’
He glanced over at Nick, who had squatted down to befriend a stray cat. His son laughed when the cat rolled around on the ground. Nick seemed fine at the moment, but it was hard to relax knowing the slightest thing could trigger a meltdown. James sighed, hoping they could get through the rest of the day without another tantrum.
They picked up some seabass at the fish market, then walked back to the cottage. By then, the rain had petered out. Nick returned to his drawing of the underwater kingdom, while Holly played games on the family iPad.
They usually restricted her screen time – but desperate times called for desperate measures: unlimited Roblox.
James opened one of the remaining bottles of wine and poured himself and Sarah each a large glass. He wiped down the garden furniture and they took their wine outside.
‘To this holiday almost being over,’ he said.
They touched glasses and sipped their wine, savouring the rich, fruity notes – and the peace and quiet.
‘This is delicious,’ said Sarah.
‘At least one thing about today isn’t a complete disaster,’ remarked James. ‘I guess Nick was too young for that movie.’
Sarah set her wine glass down. ‘It’s not about his age, James, and you know it. We can’t go on ignoring what we’ve known ever since Nick was a baby. That he’s different.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being different,’ replied James.
‘I didn’t say there was. But I think we should have him tested, like the school suggested. My mum knows an educational psychologist at the university who can do it for us.’
Before school had broken up, Nick’s teacher had suggested that they might want to consider having him tested for autism, or some other form of sensory processing disorder. James had been avoiding this conversation, shutting it down every time Sarah brought it up. He was annoyed that she’d got her mum involved – Geraldine had a way of taking charge.
‘No way,’ said James, shaking his head vigorously.
