The Vintage Cinema Club

by Jane Linfoot

  Luce jumped straight onto that one. ‘Hell no, last time you had two Margaritas on an empty stomach, they laid you out, and we had to get that off-duty fireman to carry you to the taxi. And a crying shame you were too far gone to see him, because he was sizzling. Shame I missed him too, because I would not have minded a piece of that one, but hey, someone had to take you home.’

  Great. Izzy let herself breathe again. A discussion about post-cocktail disasters could go on all night, given how many there had been.

  ‘Anyway, we’re not here to talk about cocktails.’ So that was Luce coming clean. She did have an agenda after all. ‘I wanted to clear up the Xander stuff, because two weeks on your own with him in France is a long time, especially when his sister is as hell bent as I am on getting you two together.’

  Izzy’s stomach took a high speed lift ride, and came to a halt, somewhere a long way under her stool. ‘Shit, you have to be joking me?’

  Luce shook her head, and her lips twitched with amusement. ‘Nope, she’s convinced a bit of homey Izzy is just what Xander needs.’

  Izzy’s appalled face gave way to one of her hard stares, which she turned on Luce. ‘And you found this out how?’

  Luce’s eyes went skywards. ‘Long story. I thought I’d better check things out, and when I looked back at the account details, I realised Christina’s had quite a bit of stuff from us before. So I rang her for a little check-up chat.’ Luce’s lips curled into a “told you so” grin. ‘Apparently Xander’s had a rough time for quite a few years, but last week he started smiling again. I think you’re being credited with that one.’

  Izzy was wailing again. ‘So why didn’t you let me in on this?’

  Luce shook her head. ‘Every time I tried to tell you, you hijacked the conversation.’

  And that was true. The merest mention of Xander by Luce, and Izzy had bounced the subject anywhere else.

  ‘Happy hour was my last hope of telling you.’ Luce gave Izzy a sideways grin. ‘I can’t pretend I’m not pleased you’re getting a second chance with Xander, because he’s a peach. But you are doing all of us a monumental favour with this trip, when I know you’d rather stay at home. You’re stepping right out of your comfort zone for us. If you insist you want to keep Xander at arm’s length, we should lay down conditions with Christina, in advance. So she knows not to meddle too much.’

  Good old Luce. Izzy could barely admit to herself, let alone her best friend, how fast her heart had raced when she’d heard there was a chance she’d be thrown together with Xander again. And the fact her first refusal was over ridden, and wrapped up in a way that meant she had no alternative, well, that brought out her goosebumps. She tried to shut out how amazing that night with him had been, and then there had been that amazing swan song of an afternoon, which they both went into knowing it was a one off. At the time, she’d just been desperate to jump him, full stop. He couldn’t have made it clearer that he wasn’t available in the long term, which was absolutely fine, because she definitely wasn’t available either.

  So although she was reluctantly resigned to going, it still had her waking in the night and mouthing OMG into the darkness. What she hadn’t begun to work out was how she was going to handle hanging out with Xander in France, after what had happened between them. Mental note to self: hands off the hottie. But spelling it out, loud and clear, in advance of their trip was one inspired idea that let everyone know where they stood. And what’s more, it made her sound like she meant business. Which obviously she did.

  ‘You think that would be okay?’ Izzy wanted to hug Luce for this.

  ‘You’re calling the shots here, and I know from the relief on your face, that you’d be happier if we spelled it out.’ Luce grabbed Izzy’s hand and gave it squeeze. ‘We all owe you big time for this, so it’s our responsibility to know you’re comfortable. Leave Xander and his sister to me, I’ll make sure they get the message.’

  And a big phew to that. ‘Thanks, do you know how brill you are?’ Izzy flung her arm around Luce’s neck and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘You’re the closest I’ve ever got to having a sister.’

  ‘Real life sisters aren’t always that great, but thanks yourself.’ Luce, cheeks all pink, paused, played with her ice some more. When she next looked up at Izzy, her eyes were clear and sharp, and her tone was altogether different. ‘Did you sleep with him?’

  Izzy gulped, and inhaled a lungful of cocktail. As she finally swallowed back her coughing, she knew she was opening and shutting her mouth like a goldfish, but no sound would come out. Eventually she croaked out a mumble. ‘Er, who, er, what…me…?’

  Luce was straight onto her. ‘From the speech hesitation, I’ll take that as a yes.’

  Shit. No chance of secrets with Luce around.

  Izzy suspected that despite Luce’s ear to ear beam, she was toning down her delight.

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Luce was hugging her again, this time so enthusiastically Izzy could barely breathe. ‘I knew there was an information black hole when you were at The Pink House. Good for you, you little tart.’

  Except Luce was missing the point here.

  ‘We both agreed it was a one off.’ Izzy strategically missed out the “both times” bit, or the fact they were both clear about the last time being exactly that.

  ‘Neither of us want to take it further, but how the hell do I face him again now, every day for two whole weeks? I mean I nearly died that day he came into the cinema, and he was only there for a few minutes.’

  Luce pulled down the corners of her mouth. ‘If I was bothered about meeting the guys I’d slept with, I’d never set foot outside the front door.’ She gave a low chuckle. ‘Having sex with someone is in the moment, it’s a bit like drinking a milkshake with them – it happens, you both have a great time, then it’s over. End of.’

  Izzy wasn’t being deliberately dense, but she wasn’t getting this. ‘I can’t see where milkshakes come into it.’

  Luce gave a shrug. ‘The point is you enjoy it at the time, but then you move on. And the knack is, you don’t think about it ever again, especially not if you meet the person.’

  Izzy pursed her lips. ‘So you’re saying I go to France with Xander, and I just blank the sex bit?’

  ‘Exactly, and believe me, I should know.’ Luce gave her a superior, serial-shagger-and-proud-of-it grin.

  ‘Right, thanks for that one.’ Izzy wasn’t sure she could pull it off, but at least she had a tactic now.

  ‘So how was it?’ Luce was waiting, expectantly.

  There was no dodging it, so Izzy answered fast. ‘Absolutely fucking awesome. Ten plus four. Next question.’

  Luce gave a suitably satisfied nod. ‘This definitely calls for another cocktail.’ She hoovered up the last of her drink, and shoved her empty glass onto the bar. ‘Now do you need any more dresses to take? We want you to look very pretty.’

  45

  Sunday Afternoon, 29th June

  XANDER & IZZY

  In Izzy’s back garden

  Something less corporate

  ‘Now you’re here, and you’ve crashed my Sunday afternoon completely unannounced, what I want to know is why the hell you’re doing this whole damned France trip thing in the first place?’

  Xander stood back, and watched Izzy. Hands on hips, head tossing, voice revving like a Ferrari. All very familiar. He was kicking himself, because this could have gone so much better. Yes, he should have told her he was coming, but that would have made it all too formal, and after Luce’s call he was only trying to get things clear before they set off. Better to have the shouting here than in France.

  He tried not to show his disappointment. ‘A trip to France – wasn’t that what you wanted?’ Only with Izzy could he have got this so wrong.

  As for why he was doing this, he’d asked himself that question a lot of times too. In his head he maintained that he was doing it all for Izzy. Because she was so upset and worried that last day at The Pink House, about losing her liveli
hood, and the cinema. This trip was something he’d dreamed up to help her.

  Izzy’s eyes flashed. ‘You waft in, waving a fait accompli offer that no one will let me refuse. Don’t you realise how much I hate being controlled?’ Her heartfelt complaints were pouring out. ‘I feel like a beetle that’s been picked up, and no matter how hard I’m waggling my arms and legs, someone else is deciding where I go.’

  Damn, damn, damn. How could he have got this so wrong?

  ‘Beetles don’t have arms,’ Xander pointed out. What a stupid thing to add, but for the moment sensible was evading him.

  Izzy gave that the eye roll it deserved. ‘You do realise that the clever little incentive package you put together meant I couldn’t possibly say no.’

  It had taken him a few days to come up with a deal he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist, especially after her shock refusal first time around, which he really hadn’t been ready for. How like Izzy to wrong foot him, and do exactly the opposite of what he expected. Still he was pretty proud of coming up with an offer she couldn’t wriggle out of, especially one that everyone at the cinema would rally round and pressure her into. The important thing had been that she – and her business – stood to benefit in the long run. That’s all he’d wanted to achieve. Hopefully she’d get that eventually.

  Xander looked at her steadily. ‘You were the one who said you were relying on French stock to save the cinema. I took that and ran with it, to say thank you for all the work you’d done at The Pink House.’ That last bit was an impromptu addition. ‘And to answer your question, there isn’t just one reason why I’m doing it.’ That at least was true.

  ‘Right.’ Not sounding convinced, but she’d stopped jumping up and down. That was an improvement.

  He tried again. ‘It’s a combination of reasons that all coincide, and are beneficial to everyone.’

  Izzy gave a dismissive snort. ‘You’re talking producer-speak here Xander. Could you possibly be less corporate?’

  Xander drew in a breath, and counted to ten. Who was doing who the favour here? He had so much to learn about going the right way about things with Izzy.

  ‘I’m hoping it will help you and your business. Free travel, free accommodation, all you need to pay for is whatever you bring back.’ Important point, clearly made. On that basis alone, for anyone other than Izzy, it would be a no brainer. ‘And it’s a way of helping Christina, to pay her back for everything she’s done for me over the years. Her leg is broken, she can’t sort things out for herself, and she loves what you do. It’s a perfect coincidence of circumstances which…’

  Izzy butted in. ‘You’re veering into the boardroom again.’

  He carried on, making mental notes for future challenges. ‘And it’ll help all your friends at Vintage at the Cinema too. Supporting local artists and artisans is always a good thing.’

  ‘Supporting local artists?’ Another query, marked “Incredulous”. ‘Everything you’ve mentioned is about helping other people.’

  Xander gave her a searching look. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’

  Izzy gave a puzzled frown. ‘It just doesn’t quite fit with your image as a hard-nosed developer, that’s all.’

  Xander broke into a grin. ‘Developers don’t have to be hard-nosed. Maybe I’m a philanthropist.’

  That made her laugh out loud. ‘Now I’ve heard it all – a philanthropist and an entrepreneur.’ She picked up a handful of petals that had fallen off the clematis that was rampaging up the garden wall, and began to let them fall to the floor, one by one. She was so hot when she was furious, but when her anger melted away, it left a vulnerability which made his gut wrench. As for his caveman drive to crash her straight up against the wall, that was something he had to learn to block, and fast.

  Xander had to admit this offer was really about his guilt. The guilty as hell feeling he had for inadvertently dragging Izzy off to bed when he knew he couldn’t offer her anything more. By doing something that was good for her and her friends at the cinema he hoped it was a way to right that wrong.

  Although deep down he knew that it was also about him being completely selfish, because although he didn’t do commitment, and his life was a dysfunctional mess he couldn’t add anyone into, since he’d been around Izzy, he’d felt so much more human. Almost happy at times. There was just something about her – ordinary things were transformed when she was there. She had this goodness that shone out of her, and when she was around, it made him feel like a better person. And he hadn’t felt that for such a long time, if ever.

  The thing about Izzy was that even though she was impetuous, and just like today, she was liable to chew his head off as soon as look at him, she had an honesty and wisdom about her. In a few minutes, in his attic, she’d turned his pain and grief for his mother around, and made it something he could deal with. That kind of person, and this kind of connection hadn’t ever happened to him before. And although he knew he had nothing to offer her in the long term, he couldn’t let her slip away. Not yet.

  Right now, he could bear not to have her in his bed, but he couldn’t bear not to have her in his life. So he was entirely happy to agree to a hands off scenario, because that way he wasn’t deceiving anyone. Even though he had a whole set of screwed up ulterior motives here, he hoped he was still being honest with her. Long term, he’d have to wean himself off her in some way, extricate himself, but he’d face that later. And it was important that he didn’t let her get involved, and ultimately get hurt, although she was adamant that was the last thing she wanted anyway.

  ‘So Mr Philanthropist, what’s really in it for you then?’ She was gazing at him with her head on one side now. ‘Or is it all about the welfare of others?’

  Now it was Xander’s turn to laugh, but more with relief that she’d gently lowered him off the hook. ‘I’ll take the wine, and the sun and the scenery. It’s an idyllic spot. You’re going to love it.’

  And that seemed like the ideal place to leave things. They both knew where they stood on the hands off thing. That blueprint had been established when they’d snatched that last delicious, yet ferociously hot afternoon, which already felt like stolen goods, even when they were wrapped around each other. It was Luce, and the stern talking to she’d given him, that had sent him scurrying round here, but no one was making any moves today. It was for the best.

  ‘I’ll see you at the airport then. Bordeaux. 11th July.’ And with that he backed out of her garden, and left her to get on with her day.

  46

  Monday, 7th July

  Izzy’s To Do List

  Before I go to France…eeeeeeek!!!!

  Teach boys to make spag bol

  Show boys sink and Fairy liquid

  Remind boys how to wash up

  Tell boys where Sainsbury’s is

  Teach boys to use washing machine

  Write backup washing machine user instructions

  Ditto Dyson

  Remind self not to make out with you know who

  Show boys how to empty bins

  Show boys recycling bins

  Leave list of bin and recycling collections out

  Do outstanding washing

  Do outstanding ironing

  Pay car tax on Chou-fleur

  Sort out house insurance

  Email Ollie

  Print out plane ticket

  Clean house from top to bottom

  Pick up pill prescription

  Get Euros from post office

  Finalise deets of order wish list from Vintage cinema peeps

  Buy bulk supplies of factor 50 suntan cream (or risk speckled hen look)

  Buy plane friendly mini cosmetics bottles

  Pick up suitcase on wheels from Dida

  Buy apple & bubblegum supplies

  Remind self AGAIN not to make out with you know who

  UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

  Buy paperbacks/fill up kindle

  Buy new bikini

  Buy paint brushes to
take

  Wash painting dungarees

  Pack

  47

  Thursday Morning, 10th July

  LUCE

  In her flat

  A postcard from Thailand

  Luce, sitting at her sewing machine, pausing at the end of a seam, lurched as she heard the click of the letterbox downstairs. Summer dresses made up from vintage patterns were flying out of the shop so fast she could barely keep up with demand, especially since Izzy put them in the window display. Luce heard the click, and this time she was determined not to react.

  Every day when she heard the postman come, she careered down the stairs like a crazy loon, and every time she’d been disappointed. It seemed like forever since Ollie’s last post card had arrived. Looking back, those postcards arriving every week for Ruby had been like a connection to Ollie, and more fool her for a) taking them for granted and b) coming to rely on them. There really wasn’t any point in dashing down stairs again today. Snipping off the loose ends of thread, she put the skirt section of the dress she was sewing to one side to press later, picked up the next pieces of fabric, and eased them under the machine foot. Except she really wasn’t going to be able to concentrate. Not until…

  Ten seconds later she arrived breathless at the bottom of the stairs, and wrenched at the letter box on the back of the door. And damn her, there was a postcard. If her heart had been high jumping it would have cleared two metres, and her mouth stretched into a smile with no input at all on her part. Ignoring the picture she grabbed the card, whipped it over, and took in a Thai stamp.

  Yay! She thumped her fist in the air. Then her heart did another extra lurch, as she saw her own name. Lucy Morgan. Not Ruby, but Lucy. Ollie was writing to her. Her heart was galloping in her chest now. How many times in the last month had she’d opened her inbox willing there to be an email from him, only to be disappointed, and now it didn’t matter at all, because he’d written to her anyway. Except the writing was maybe neater than Ollie’s…And it was too small…And Ollie would never use turquoise ink, would he? And Ollie would have called her Luce, not Lucy? And this postcard wasn’t from him at all…was it? How could she have been so damned stupid? Her stomach sagged as she read the message.