Page 33 of Christmas at the Movies
‘2046starts in twenty minutes,’ said the man selling tickets. Hong Kong had been handed back to China a few years previously, but most people in the former British colony spoke excellent English.
The man had them pick their seats on a paper seating chart. He wrote out their tickets by hand, his black pen forming elegant characters on the paper, then directed them to the auditorium.
Sarah could feel her wet jeans sticking to her thighs and water from her hair running down her neck in rivulets. ‘I feel like a drowned rat.’
‘We’ll soon dry off,’ said James cheerfully, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Set in 1960s Hong Kong, the film wove together multiple meandering stories. One was about a science-fiction author writing a novel about a mysterious room 2046, where whoever was in it could revisit the past but never return to the present. Another followed a woman desperately in love with the writer. Every Christmas Eve, they met for dinner, but the writer never reciprocated her feelings.
When the lights came back on, Sarah sat in awed silence. ‘That was amazing.’ She’d loved the film, with its melancholy soundtrack, gorgeous period costumes and saturated colours.
‘I thought it was confusing,’ admitted James. ‘Even with the subtitles.’
‘It was like a strange dream,’ said Sarah. ‘Dreams don’t always make sense.’
Outside the cinema, it had stopped raining and dark had fallen. The promenade at Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront was decorated with colourful lanterns for the autumn harvest festival. Families were out strolling, admiring the lights and the full moon shimmering over the harbour. Children held home-made lanterns on sticks and wore traditional outfits made of silky brocade. Sarah and James bought paper lanterns with the white Moon Rabbit on them from a vendor.
A little girl in a pink dress with a matching ribbon in her hair rode her bike towards them. She was going fast – her long black hair streaming out behind her. Her parents shouted after her in Cantonese. Although Sarah didn’t understand the words, she could tell they were warning her to slow down. Too late. The tyres skidded on the wet pavement and the girl fell off her bicycle. She sprawled on the ground, crying.
Sarah gasped. ‘Oh no.’
They dashed forward to help her up.
Sarah crouched down in front of the girl. Her knee was bleeding and there was a scrape on her chin. ‘Does it hurt?’
The little girl nodded, her lip trembling. Sarah took out a tissue from her backpack and pressed it gently to her grazed knee.
‘Would you like my lantern?’ James held out his lantern to the little girl. ‘Look – it’s got a bunny on it.’
‘What’s your name, sweetie?’ asked Sarah.
‘Iris,’ said the girl shyly, taking the lantern.
Eventually, the girls’ parents caught up with them. Iris’s mum gave her a hug, then, once she’d checked her wounds, scolded her in Cantonese. Turning to James and Sarah, the woman tried to give them back the lantern, but James insisted that Iris keep it.
‘Thank you,’ said Iris’s mother.
Iris’s dad picked her up, while her mother wheeled the bicycle along. Sarah smiled as the adorable little girl wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck and waved at them over his shoulder. She turned to watch them go, the rabbit lantern bobbing along.
An image of her and James, each holding the hand of a little girl with curly brown hair and blue eyes, popped into her mind. Suddenly, Sarah was overcome with an intense longing – ahunger– to have a baby of her own.
‘She was cute,’ said James as they strolled along.
‘Yes,’ agreed Sarah. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he was thinking the same thing.
Don’t be ridiculous,she told herself. The woman at the temple must have put ideas into her head. They weren’t ready to start a family. They lived in a small flat and worked crazy hours. Much as she loved living in trendy East London, Sarah couldn’t imagine raising kids there, with sirens wailing at all hours and buses belching pollution into the air. Plus, she wanted to finish her screenplay before starting a family. She still hadn’t completedThe Ghost Writerbecause she was too busy editing other people’s scripts. She’d thought about starting something new, but was so tired on the weekends she couldn’t muster up the energy.
Further along the promenade, the pathway was embedded with plaques and handprints, honouring the greats of the Hong King film industry.
‘It’s like the Walk of Fame in Hollywood,’ said James. On their honeymoon, they had visited Hollywood Boulevard, looking for their favourite actors’ stars.
‘Look, it’s Wong Kar-wai,’ said Sarah, pointing to the star commemorating the director of the film they’d just seen.
As they continued down the promenade, they also spotted stars for Maggie Cheung and Gong Li, who had acted in the movie.
Back at the hotel, Sarah kicked off her trainers. ‘I’m exhausted.’
‘Maybe we should lie down for a bit …’ said James, sliding his hand under her still-damp T-shirt and nuzzling her neck. ‘God, you always smell so good.’
