by Holly Bourne
“Yes, but can I ask what film, please?” I pressed.
“Oh.” The lady got it now. “Whoops. Yes. I mean Walking with Sausage Dogs.”
“We’re a bit busy tonight, but where do you want to sit?” I pulled up the available seats on the computer screen and pulled it around so she could see.
She grumbled a bit. “Aren’t there any aisle seats left?”
“Sorry, we’re almost fully booked.”
“I guess we’ll take E3 and E4 then.”
She handed over her card and I miraculously managed to put the payment through without breaking anything. The stream of customers poured past me, most with their tickets already on their phones.
Harry pinched either side of my ribs to squeeze past me. “The battery on my torch has gone,” he explained, when I glared at him. “She’ll complain about the price of the food next,” he whispered as the lady walked away. And, with true comic timing, we overheard her say, “Five pounds for some popcorn? That’s a bit steep, isn’t it?”
“I told you. People always do and say the same stupid things in cinemas.” He shoved a new battery into his torch and then crept past me – putting his arms up in the air. “See, no touching.” He winked, and my body was suddenly annoyed he wasn’t touching me, which was precisely the point. He dashed back to the doors, all gracious with the customers, even bowling over Mrs Complainy. “Seats E3 and 4, you say? Right this way, madam.”
I was just shamelessly admiring the back view of him – because you can look at someone like Harry and just enjoy it without ruining your life by adding feelings to it – when Alice’s face popped up right in front of mine.
“AUDDDDRREEYYYYYY!” Becky and Charlie were right behind her. They jumped and pulled me in for a hug over the counter.
“Oh my God, look! You’re in uniform and everything!” Becky shrilled.
“Hey, girls,” I said, as un-hollowly as possible. “You made it!”
“We did, we did!” Charlie said. She was the most dressed-up, wearing ruby red lipstick and, by the looks of it, she’d even curled her hair.
I smiled as far as my face would stretch. “I can get you fifty per cent off.”
“Ahhhh, that’s amazing. Can we all sit together?”
I looked at the screen. “Yes. If you don’t mind being in the front row?”
“Nope.”
Harry swooped behind them just as I was taking their money. He put an arm around all of them like it was okay to just touch people.
“Ladies,” he said. “You must be Audrey’s friends?”
I looked pointedly at his hand, which was so over Becky’s shoulder it was almost touching her boob – not that she minded in the slightest.
“This is Harry,” I deadpanned. “He works here too.” I shook my head at him and he smiled. “He’s about to say ‘Audrey didn’t tell me how beautiful you all were’, or something similar.”
Harry pulled them in closer. “Audrey didn’t tell me how beautiful you all were.” He kept eye contact with me at all times.
“I told you.”
The girls dissolved into unoffended giggles. “How long have you worked here then, Harry?” Becky asked him, in full-on flirt mode.
“Full time since the summer.”
“He’s in Dougie’s year,” I added, handing over their tickets.
“Oh.” Alice was doing her flirt-smile rather than her actual smile. Alice was always worried she had “too much gum”. She even once pitched an article to a women’s magazine about how there are no beauty products for too much gum. “So, why aren’t you at uni then?”
Harry didn’t answer and a tiny wince crossed his face. He coughed. “So, have you girls got your snacks?” he asked and guided them towards LouLou, his hands still around their shoulders.
I was just peering after them, marvelling at how one human being could have that much charm when I heard, “Hi, Audrey.”
All my insides turned to shards of ice.
I made myself look up – look right at them. “Guys! You came!” I sounded like I was a wind-up toy that had been wound too tight.
Milo was wearing the American varsity-style jacket that he knew used to make me want to lick him.
“Yeah, I dragged him out,” Courtney said. “He’s agreed to watch Walking with Sausage Dogs if I come watch the new Scorsese next week.”
Milo smiled apologetically. “You’re going to be sick of us, Audrey.”
I closed my eyes for a bit longer than was probably necessary. “Great, well, there aren’t many seats left, but hopefully you can sit together.” I pushed the screen round, which was stupid because I knew exactly which seats they were going to pick. Harry had warned me about them. The Make-out Seats.
“There’s two together right at the back there.” Courtney’s long nails scraped the screen as she picked the seats I thought she would. “Ahh, how cute! They’re on their own little row.”
“Righty ho.” I clicked confirm like someone who said Righty ho.
A clatter of heels and giggles and I saw the girls following Harry into the dark of the cinema, each cradling a huge bucket of popcorn and a Diet Coke. Becky, at the back, raised her eyebrows madly at me while pointing to Harry with her spare hand. Then she spotted Milo and Courtney and stopped. She saw my face and mouthed, “Are you okay?” and I gave a slight nod, subtle enough so Milo and Courtney wouldn’t notice. Milo was digging around in his pocket for money. They hadn’t asked for a discount and I sure as hell wasn’t going to offer one. Becky put her free hand to her face, with her middle finger up against her cheek – facing Milo – and walked into the cinema, winking at me as she plunged into the darkness. And just that made me like my friends again. It melted the tips of the icicles which were now my guts, sploshing water in and giving me the strength to hand over the tickets to my ex-boyfriend.
The second they were out of my eyeline, I slumped forward on the counter, taking deep breaths.
I heard Harry call out, “You have to go in now, the movie’s started.”
“We haven’t got food yet,” Milo said.
“Sorry, it’s our policy. We don’t want latecomers to disrupt the film for others.”
I made a shrugging hey-not-my-bad face at Milo as he strode past again, looking Harry up and down, all pissed off.
“We’ll just go for dinner afterwards,” he said to Her. He kissed her on the lips, right in front of me, and they stepped past Harry into the dark.
The doors swung shut behind them.
I found myself slipping against the wall until my bum hit the carpet. I put my knees up and rested my face into them. I could hear the film’s opening music ever-so-softly through the door.
I felt Harry’s presence standing over me. “Thanks for being mean to them for me,” I said, my eyes still pushed into my kneecaps.
“That was him then, was it?”
I didn’t say anything back. I couldn’t work out what emotion I was. Angry – that he had the cheek to show up. Sad – that it wasn’t me he was taking to the cinema any more. Humiliated – that I was so disgusting and bad at sex that he’d dumped me…
“You want me to say he’s obviously an idiot?” Harry said.
“I want you to say something that isn’t a total cliché,” I said into my knees.
“His girlfriend’s boobs are too close together.” The shock of it made me laugh and I looked up. “What does that even mean?”
He shrugged and started folding his long body so he was sitting on the carpet across from me. “I’m just saying, there’s the nice normal cleavage you can get. That’s just…you know.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “And then some girls wear these weird crazy bras that push them together so it looks like they’re in pain. I felt really sorry for her boobs.”
I was still laughing, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
LouLou appeared, her quiff all wilty from the heat of the pulled pork machine. “Oooo, carpet party! Why are we all sitting on the floor?” Without waiting for an answer, she sat he
rself down next to us.
“My ex-boyfriend is here,” I explained.
“Ahh.” LouLou nodded knowingly. “Is that why you say you’re numb to Harry’s charms?”
“Hey!” Harry said. “Were you warning her about me, Lou?”
“After Grace quit? Yes.”
“She didn’t quit because of me.”
“Didn’t she?”
“How did you meet this butt-plug anyway?” Harry asked, noticeably changing the subject.
I rested my chin on the tops of my knees. “We were in Drama Club together. We both got the main parts in the school play.”
“You act?”
I shrugged, the memories making me achy and uncomfortable. “I did act. But I haven’t taken Drama on to upper sixth, I dropped it, and I quit Drama Club.” I say it quickly, hoping they won’t pry further.
LouLou and Harry shared a look, both of them suddenly smiling.
“What?” I asked. “What is it?”
Harry’s eyes were so bright. “Audrey, if you can act, you have to be in my movie!”
LouLou clapped her hands together. “Oh yes, Audrey, you must! We can film tonight, after the cinema closes.”
“But the cinema doesn’t close until gone midnight.”
“Exactly!” Harry stood up, shaking out his legs. “The perfect shooting time for my award-winning film about the walking dead. We need someone to play the zombie bride, Audrey. My friend, Rosie, tried a few scenes but she’s only good at screaming and attacking, she’s not so good at running lines. Oh my God, this is SUCH good timing. I’ll message her now and let her know she’s off the hook!”
“I…I…” I leaned further back into the wall. “I’m not very good.”
“You just said you were the lead part in your school play!”
“Yes…but…”
I was good, at least I used to be good. I used to be able to climb into the skin of whoever I played, lose myself in their life, their emotions, forget who I was, where I was, that there was an audience watching. It was what made me happy. I thought back to last winter, to those heady days of rehearsal, of Milo and I running lines snuggled up on a sofa in a coffee shop, his mouth on my neck, my head heavy with falling in love. My heart so much lighter, something I’d never thought possible after Dad left. “You’re so good,” he would whisper, his breath hot from his latte. “I even hate you a little bit, you’re so good.” But that was then and this was now, and now I could hardly even act liking my own friends. I could hardly pull off being a caring daughter. I was already failing the part of efficient employee. I’d been sitting on the carpet for ten minutes.
“Come on,” Harry begged, the corners of his eyes scrunched up. “I need you. I’m desperate. It will be the perfect way to get your mind off butt-plug boy.”
I laughed at his new nickname for Milo.
“I dunno. Won’t your friend, Rosie, mind?” Was Rosie the cool girl from the car?
Harry shook her head while LouLou nodded.
“Nah, she’ll get over it. I told you, she doesn’t like speaking parts.”
“She only wants to do the scenes where she gets to kiss you,” LouLou said.
“Oi!” I said. “You didn’t tell me about that.”
Harry shook his head, his smile well and truly back in place. “Don’t worry, Audrey. We’re not filming that scene for a while yet, and I’m sure you’ll have kissed me all of your own accord by then anyway.”
I started to stand up. “I bloody won’t have done!”
Just then the front door swung open, letting cold air in and signalling the flurry of activity for the “serious” film we were showing as an alternative to Sausage Dogs.
“Hi, are you here for The Right Side Of Man?” Harry asked the group of middle-aged women who strode in. They melted under his mega-watt smile. “Come this way,” he said, ushering them towards me.
LouLou sprang up to get back over to the bar. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you about him,” she muttered.
“Two tickets, please.”
“Two popcorns, please.”
“Two glasses of Merlot, please.”
Cinemas are full of pairs.
Time raced past as we got the fussies into their seats and brought them all their artisan pizzas. Before I knew it, the double doors of Screen One opened and everyone spilled out – most with tears running down their cheeks. I stood with a smile etched across my face, holding out a bin bag that everyone ignored.
“Thank you, thanks for coming, I hope you enjoyed it.”
The girls all came out with red and blotchy faces. Alice hugged me again. “Oh my God, Audrey. I think my face is having an allergic reaction to how sad that was. That was the most beautiful film EVER!”
Becky and Charlie hugged me too, causing a blockage. I stepped to one side, still holding the bag.
“Guys, that bit when the sausage dog ran away!” Becky squeaked.
“Oh, and then it had gone to his house!” Alice shrilled shriller.
My grin stayed all grinny. “So glad you enjoyed it.”
Alice’s face darkened. “We did. But we also saw Milo here with HER. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I would have a sore throat tomorrow from all the high-pitched faux-enthusiasm.
“What’s he even doing here?” Becky asked. “I mean, he has some nerve.”
I bit my lip. “He’s Milo,” I explained. “Milo is all nerve, that’s who he…shh…”
He and Courtney pushed through the doors, the last ones to leave. Her lipstick was smudged and her chin was all red from his stubble. Milo held his hand up without waving it. “Laters, Audrey.” They walked out into the night, clutching each other like the world would end if you tried to shove even a sheet of paper between them.
I didn’t have any choice about the girls pulling me in for another hug.
“Aww, Auds, he’s such an arsehole.”
“How can he even treat you like that?”
“You can do SO much better.”
I let their words wash over me. I let them hug me. A tiny part of me that wasn’t angry and numb – if you can even be those things simultaneously – recognized that I was the problem, not them. But I let go and held up the bin bag as a defensive barrier. “I better go clean up.”
“Aww,” Alice said. “Can you not come out with us?”
“I don’t finish until gone midnight…”And then I’m maybe acting as a zombie bride…
Becky stuck her tongue out. “This sucks. You working sucks.”
I was about to nod until I realized I’d been here practically all day and hadn’t worried about Mum once.
“Who’s that Harry guy, anyway?” Charlie asked. “He’s cute.”
“He’s trouble.”
“Good rebound trouble?”
I shook my head a LOT then, just as he appeared with the Hoover.
“Audrey!” he called, all coo-ey and feminine. “It’s time for our bonding experience picking up people’s leftover popcorn.”
“Look, I gotta go. I’ll see you at school on Monday?”
“Ladies.” Harry pushed the Hoover along and then jumped on top of it like it was a horse. “Meet my trusty steed.”
“Rebound on him,” Alice whispered, as she gave her obligatory goodbye hug.
“We’re fully booked for the late showing,” Harry said as we, yet again, cleaned up the popcorn. “So I guess we’ll just need you on the bar, to help out with food and stuff.”
“I can’t believe this stupid movie is so popular,” I grumbled. The complainy lady in E3 had left the most mess – it was like she’d been in a fistfight with her popcorn.
“What’s your issue with romance films?” he asked, just as LouLou slid in on an extra Hoover, crying, “I’m here to helllllllp.
“Yes, Audrey,” she said, plugging it in at the wall. “What’s your problem with The Mr Dicky Curtisfield?”
I crossed my arms. “It’s simple. Women in most romance movies aren’t real.”
>
Harry cut off his Hoover and sat down on a chair, putting his legs on the seat. “Tell me, Audrey. How are they not real?”
I blew my hair up and thought back to all the films I’d watched with Mum and Dad on our family film nights. “Well, they never have any real insecurities, just like – cute ones! Like, ‘Oh, I’m really neat and tidy’, or ‘I’m mildly clumsy’. Where are the woman saying, ‘Why the hell haven’t you replied to my messages after shagging me?’ or ‘Do you mind if we take things slow because I was raped in college?’”
LouLou pointed at me. “This is true.”
“Plus” – I was still warming up – “they’re always crazy perfect skinny, even though they’re supposedly always munching down burgers and chocolate. That’s not real. You can’t have thighs that don’t rub at the top but also looooove hot dogs and beer. Those two things don’t coexist. You have to do squats every single moment of your life and only have one slither of cake, like, once a year, and probably eat it whilst still doing squats.”
Harry’s smile was so wide. He waved his arm like he was conducting me. “Go on.”
“Well” – I sat down next to him – “they always look amazing in the morning. They never have stinky breath or hair all over the place, or boogers in their eyes. And they sleep in, like, tiny pyjama short things instead of an ugly oversized T-shirt with jammy bottoms. I mean, AREN’T THEY COLD? Also” – I began to list them off on my fingers – “they never pick fights with the guy’s friends about the fact they’re sexist slobs. They never fart, let alone fanny fart, or get their period and accidentally bleed reddy-brown splodges onto their jeans. Their fringes are always impeccable. They’re always one of the guys somehow, and like sport and drinking beer or watching action movies, because that’s so real. They never nag the guy about watching football all the time, or say ‘Let’s watch Love, Rosie because it’s my turn to choose’. They’re never stroppy and they’re never difficult and they’re never needy and they’re never bloated and they never wear mismatching underwear and they never have cellulite and they never ask to have sex with the lights off because they hate their stomachs. And even if they ARE stroppy and difficult, it’s always something that’s MENDED by the end of the film because some guy with perfectly-sculpted arms kisses them in the rain.”