Page 6 of Just Like in the Movies

‘That’s the plan,’ he replied.

‘That’s fabulous and so fortuitous. Because that just happens to be the evening we’re kicking off Matty’s Classics season.’ Or rather, it is now. ‘And I wanted to invite you to the opening event. We’re doing a themed evening around The Wizard of Oz.’ Watching the musical masterpiece together had always been one of her and Matty’s favourite traditions. ‘There’s going to be fancy dress and themed cocktails and we’re sourcing a singalong version of the film,’ she continued, embellishing the lie, aware that her five minutes were ticking down. Except it wasn’t a lie. Because really what better way to commemorate Matty than to show some of his favourite films at The Royale? The more she thought about it, the more it made perfect sense. ‘You must … you absolutely must come along as our guest of honour. Not only will you be able to see what we do, you can get to know a bit more about your uncle. Everyone at The Royale adored Matty, he was the centre of our universe.’ She swallowed around the asteroid. ‘And The Wizard of Oz was one of the films he loved best.’

Devlin hadn’t said anything, and what she could see of his face wasn’t even radiating emotion, let alone enthusiasm, so she went for broke.

‘If you need, I could source you a costume, so you can get into the spirit of the thing.’

It was the wrong thing to say, she realised, when a muscle in his jaw tightened and twitched.

‘Something low-key and totally cool …’ She backtracked furiously, racking her brains to think of one single character in The Wizard of Oz who didn’t dazzle and sparkle. ‘Maybe you could come as Uncle Henry?’ Perhaps Luke Devlin was more of a sepia personality than a Technicolor one. ‘Or … one of the farm hands in Kansas before they turn into the Lion, the Tinman and the Scarecrow?’ That rigid jaw did not look like a yes, but perhaps it was a maybe? If she could get the right costume.

‘I don’t do dress-up,’ he said.

So not a maybe. Definitely a no.

‘That’s absolutely fine,’ she said. ‘Not everyone wears a costume.’ Another whopper – The Royale’s singalong evenings were legendary, and the one she had just invented would be even more so, because every single person there would be celebrating Matty’s life and legacy with the same passion Matty had showed every one of them during his thirty-one-year career as their favourite cinema proprietor. Matty hadn’t just built a local art-house cinema with The Royale, he’d built a community of like-minded people who needed the glittering fantasy world he had created to escape their humdrum lives just like Dorothy when she landed in Oz.

‘I’m sure they’ll be other people there who aren’t in costume.’ Perhaps she could bribe Errol their projectionist to come in civvies so Devlin wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. It was probably better for health-and-safety anyway to have Errol not wearing tons of flammable fabric near their ancient 35mm projector – and Errol had once pointed out the distinct lack of black people in Oz, so there was that.

‘You could just watch the movie with us,’ she finished, struggling not to deflate completely.

‘I saw the movie as a kid,’ he said. ‘The flying monkeys freaked me out.’

‘You didn’t like it?’ she asked, unable to keep her own jaw from heading South. Had she ever met anyone who didn’t love The Wizard of Oz – apart from Errol, and at least he had a good reason? And how could Matty’s own flesh and blood not adore it?

‘If you’re busy that day, we can reschedule …’ he began, and glanced at his iWatch again, losing interest. ‘Or I can email once I’ve checked out the financials,’ he added, pulling out his phone.

‘No, really, it’ll be fine,’ she interrupted. ‘I’m sure I can make some time to speak to you that evening. I’ve seen the movie a thousand times already.’ She totally couldn’t make time. She needed to be in the auditorium on Friday night for the gala singalong screening of The Wizard of Oz that she’d just invented. She wanted to see the movie she and Matty had loved again, to sing her heart out to all the amazing tunes – well, all except King of the Forest, the song no one ever remembered the words to because it was the only dud. This gala screening, and Matty’s Classics season in general, was going to prove to everyone who loved The Royale that even if Matty was dead, his spirit lived on.

But that would all be academic, if she couldn’t get her new co-owner on board.

And really, what better way was there to do that, than to get Luke Devlin to sit through The Wizard of Oz. To give the movie that had freaked him out as kid another chance. And thus persuade him to give The Royale a fighting chance, too.

It was clear she had her work cut out getting this man to buy into The Royale’s mission, but surely this was a good strategy to start with? How could anyone sit through the most hopeful movie ever made, and still worry about The Royale’s bottom line?

‘It would mean so much to me if you would come,’ she said, desperation starting to war with her determination. ‘Please, Mr Devlin, if you won’t do it for me, would you do it for Matty?’

It was a cheesy line. But then Matty had been the king of cheesy lines. And sometimes cheesy worked, if it was delivered with one hundred percent conviction. Right now, Ruby was sure her life depended on Devlin agreeing to come to the screening, so she could show him The Royale in all its glory, so her conviction was one thing she was not faking.

He let out a soft sigh and shoved his phone into his pocket. ‘Okay, sure, email my assistant the details and I’ll be there.’ He tugged out his wallet and handed her the same card he’d handed Ryker.

‘Thank you, Mr Devlin.’ She took the card, running her thumb over the embossed lettering, so relieved even her catastrophic headache dimmed a little.

He stuffed two fingers in his mouth and whistled. She jumped, but two seconds later a black cab pulled up to the kerb – just like in the movies.

People actually did that?

He opened the door, as if he had expected nothing less, then glanced over his shoulder. ‘But no publicity, of any kind, I don’t want anyone to know I’m coming. And no costume, you got that?’

‘Absolutely.’ She saluted him with his card, ready to sell him her first-born if he asked.

He jumped into the cab without another word. The vehicle sped off, belching out a burst of exhaust fumes.

Ruby watched the cab disappear into the rush-hour traffic, reminded of the Wicked Witch of the West cackling maniacally while writing “Surrender Dorothy” in mile-high letters over the Emerald City with her broomstick.

She tucked Devlin’s card into her backpack.

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