Page 8 of Christmas at the Movies
‘It’s such a lovely tradition,’ said Hermione.
Tickets for the Christmas films were free, with an optional donation to a different charity at every screening. For some local families, it was the only time they could afford to go to the cinema. The Christmas film festival was Sarah and her husband’s way of giving back to the community that had embraced them so warmly from the cinema’s very beginning.
Ian climbed down the ladder. ‘I’ve got some spare wreaths.’ He pointed at a pile of greenery. ‘Shall I hang one on your shop’s door?’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Hermione.
As Ian and Hermione headed to the candle shop, Sarah went back inside the cinema and searched for James. She finally tracked her husband down in the projection room at the top of the cinema. The small, stuffy room housed both the projector and the sound system – a tall column of amps that controlled the speakers and their output.
James was fiddling with the controls on the projector, surrounded by bowls of ice.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked him over the noise of the projector’s fan.
James barely glanced up. ‘The extraction fan is overheating. I’m hoping the ice cools it down.’
Great, thought Sarah. Now their most expensive piece of equipment was on the fritz. Yet another thing to worry about.
‘Don’t worry – I’m dealing with it,’ said James, tinkering with the equipment.
‘Ian reminded us about decorating the cinema for Christmas,’ said Sarah.
‘I know, I know,’ replied James distractedly.
‘And the school rang.’
James looked up. ‘What’s wrong now?’
She filled him in on her conversation with Mr Wu.
James frowned, running his hand through his hair. ‘Let’s not panic. It’s early days. And it sounds like the school is being supportive.’
‘It’s been nearly a term.’ Sarah’s eyebrows knitted together with worry. ‘I hate that Nick doesn’t have any friends.’
‘We can’t always be fighting Nick’s battles for him,’ said James. ‘And I’m not sure hiding out in the library is going to help him make friends.’
‘Well, what else was I supposed to do?’ demanded Sarah, her temper flaring. James sounded like her mother. ‘Nothing?’
‘It took him a while to settle into primary school as well. He’ll make friends in his own time,’ countered James. ‘We don’t have to blow this out of proportion.’
He turned his attention back to the projector, and anger coiled inside Sarah.
It infuriated her that James was being so relaxed about this. Why did she have to always worry about everything for the both of them? Feeling herself starting to sweat again, she looked at the ice longingly.
‘If it had been up to you, we’d never have had Nick assessed in the first place.’ She glared at her husband accusingly. ‘I guess that was blowing it out of proportion too?’
James held up his hand. ‘Hey – that’s not fair.’
‘You’re right,’ she replied, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just in a bad mood.’ She felt ashamed that she’d raked up an old disagreement. James had resisted getting Nick for neurodiversity but had agreed when he’d realised how important it had been to her.
‘We’re on the same side, hon,’ said James. ‘We both want what’s best for Nick.’
‘I know,’ said Sarah.
‘I expect you’re just tired.’ James pushed his floppy hair out of his face, a gesture Sarah had once found beyond endearing. It was mostly grey now, and there were crow’s feet around his blue eyes, but there was still a boyish air about her husband.
Men have it easy,thought Sarah. She was fairly certain her husband had never contemplated dying his hair or getting Botox on his wrinkles.
‘You haven’t been sleeping very well, have you?’
