Page 39 of Christmas at the Movies
He knew he was trying to convince himself of that as much as Nick.
James took a deep breath, determined to be strong for his son. ‘Let’s talk about something more cheerful. Can you believe it’s nearly December – almost time for the film festival.’
‘Have you and Mum picked the movies yet?’ asked Nick.
‘Not yet,’ said James. ‘But we will.’
He was sure Sarah didn’t mean what she said on the weekend about not going ahead with the festival. It was a family tradition. All four of them always watched the movies together and Nick was always allowed to stay up late, even on a school night.
James opened the back door and went outside to put the vegetable peelings into the compost pile. Fluffy white flakes were falling from the sky. ‘Nick!’ he called. ‘Nick – come outside!’
The ground and tree branches were already covered in a light dusting of snow. Jonesy was scampering across the grass, vainly attempting to catch falling snowflakes in his paws. In the distance, their neighbours’ cottages puffed smoke from their chimneys, their windows and Christmas lights glowing brightly in the dark night. The countryside looked magical as flakes swirled through the air, like a snow globe come to life.
‘It’s really coming down,’ said James.
Laughing, Nick scooped up some snow and shaped it into a ball. He threw it at Holly’s window, where it hit the glass with a soft thump.
A moment later, she opened her window and stuck her head out. White flakes landed on her dark hair and glowed in the dark night.
‘It’s snowing, Holly!’ Nick called up to her.
‘Yeah, I can see that,’ she said. But a few minutes later she joined them outdoors. Soon, she and Nick were running around, laughing and flinging handfuls of snow at each other. James wished Sarah were there too.
‘Make a wish!’ he called to the kids. ‘It’s the first snowfall of the season.’
He closed his eyes and looked up to the heavens. Cold flakes landed on his cheeks and eyelids, like angel’s kisses, as he made his wish.
Please let this be a good Christmas, he thought.And let me find a way to make Sarah happy again.
8th December 2006
James stood outside the cinema with his wife and father, looking up at the glowing marquee withGRAND OPENING TONIGHTwritten in black letters. Thecream-coloured façade, which had been covered with ugly steel cladding when they’d purchased it, had been restored to its 1930s glamour. In the classic art deco style, two elegant wings curved in above the entrance, giving the building the feel of an ocean liner. And in a way, a cinemawaslike a boat, because a film could transport you to any time and place – from fantasy kingdoms populated by elves and distant planets ruled by aliens to a coliseum in ancient Rome.
‘I can’t believe it is finally happening,’ said James. ‘The Picture Palace is actually opening.’
Sarah gave him a hug. ‘I never doubted it for a minute.’
‘Oh, I did.’ Sean chuckled. ‘For instance, when we discovered that the roof had been completely corroded by damp and lichen.’
‘Or when we found that all the walls were insulated with asbestos,’ added James, wincing at the memory.
‘Not forgetting when English Heritage rejected our plan to have a café,’ said Sean.
The cinema, designed by the noted architect Reginald Dickson, was a Grade II listed building, which had added a further complication to what was already an extremely tricky renovation. English Heritage had had to approve their designs, to ensure that they were preserving the architectural heritage of the building, while also conforming to contemporary health-and-safety regulations.
‘I couldn’t have done it without the two of you,’ admitted James.
The past two years had certainly been a wild rollercoaster ride, with twists and turns that had had James clinging on for dear life. There was a good reason the cinema had been derelict for so long – nobody had been crazy enough to take it on. Many people had warned him it was a fool’serrand, that even if he managed to complete the restoration, a small community like Plumdale couldn’t sustain a cinema. James was determined to prove them wrong. He’d ploughed all their assets into the cinema, so he didn’t really have any other option but to make it a success.
Thank God for his dad. While working on the renovations, James’s recently retired father had been living with them in their cottage on the outskirts of Plumdale, a short drive from the cinema. From his Pinewood experience, Sean knew how to manage a team of builders. He’d ensured that the workers adhered to their vision. Aware of their limited budget, he’d looked for ways to save money without cutting corners or compromising on quality.
Sarah had been instrumental, too. After the first year of renovation, they’d hit a major snag when they’d knocked down some walls to construct new bathrooms and discovered major structural defects. Water damage from the roof had caused the building’s steel frame to corrode, which would have taken them thousands of pounds over budget to repair. When the bank had refused to lend the necessary funds to reinforce the frame, Sarah had stepped in. She’d launched a fundraising drive, calling in favours from actors she knew from her BBC days.
The local community had been amazing as well. The Plumdale Beautification Committee had rallied, determined to rid the village of a derelict eyesore and give it a working cinema again. Practically overnight, James and Sean had found themselves a whole crew of volunteers. In exchange for a lifetime membership that entitled them to discounted tickets, helpers had ripped up carpets, removed damaged plaster, painted walls and tiled the bathrooms. Neighbours who weren’t handy had helped in other ways, bringing the workers tea and home-made biscuits.
James unlocked the cinema’s doors and they stepped into the double-height foyer with its ceiling lights
shaped like stars. It bore no resemblance to how it had looked the first time he’d gone inside. The stench had made him gag. The lobby had been filled with garbage and broken glass. The moth-eaten seats had been ripped out of the auditorium and were piled in a heap. Pigeons had been roosting in the balcony and a thick layer of guano had covered most surfaces. A leaking roof and corroding pipes had meant that stagnant water had puddled on the floor. Mice had nibbled through wires and insulation. The place had been such a mess, James had wondered if he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
