Alphabet Weekends - Elizabeth Noble [46]
UNINTERRUPTED SHOWING. TODAY 12P.M.
Natalie’s favourite film. She turned to him, open-mouthed.
Tom shrugged. ‘I’ve never seen it – thought it was time I found out what all the fuss was about.’
‘I haven’t seen it for years either.’
‘Thank God for that. I’d have been a bit stumped if you’d said you watched it last week.’
‘I can’t actually remember when I last saw it – with Susannah, I expect – but I can’t remember when. Thanks, Tom. I love this!’ She smiled at him with genuine pleasure and excitement, and Tom was glad. Grateful too: Serena had spotted the advert in the Guardian Weekend section and drawn it to his attention.
The cinema was, bizarrely, almost full. Natalie nudged him as they groped around in the dark for their seats. ‘See? I’m not the only weirdo out there.’
‘No, but I think I’m the only straight guy in here.’
‘And you’re wearing padded shorts!’
‘Shut up and sit down.’
Now Tom took off his rucksack and opened the zip.
‘What’s this?’
‘You can’t honestly expect me to sit here for five hours, or however long it is, without sustenance, can you? And I’ve brought a couple of bits for you.’
He started handing her things. It was dark, and she had to lift up each item to the light to see what it was. A bottle of Tizer. A Cellophane packet of liquorice catherine wheels. A bag of Quavers. And a Terry’s Chocolate Orange. Her favourite things.
Tom wished he could see her face. ‘That do?’
‘It’ll do,’ was all she said. But in the dark, as the white typography started rolling up the screen, telling the story of the American Civil War, her hand crept briefly into his lap and found his hand.
*
Tom couldn’t believe how riveted she was. Natalie barely took her eyes off the screen. She sat still and quiet, utterly engrossed. He fidgeted. He finished his snacks, and gazed around at the slightly freaky crowd of daytime cinemagoers. And at Natalie’s lovely profile, with the ever-so-slightly tilted nose, the full lips and the chin that always looked a little stubborn, even when it wasn’t moving in speech.
It was dark outside when they emerged, mole-like, from the cinema, but the wind had dropped.
‘Now tell me that wasn’t the greatest film you’ve ever seen.’
‘Please! The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, the first Star Wars trilogy, anything the Coen brothers ever made. No competition.’
Natalie pulled open the pub door. They went to the bar where she ordered a pint and a glass of white wine.
‘But it wasn’t as bad as I was expecting.’
‘Praise indeed.’
‘All that Atlanta burning stuff was cool.’
‘You’re so deep.’
‘Rubbish ending, though.’
‘How else could it have ended? Were you looking for a happy-ever-after, Pollyanna?’
‘I don’t know, but that was just crap. Were we honestly supposed to believe the spell was broken for him, and that he was suddenly over her?’
‘God, no. He just couldn’t take any more. But he was never going to be over her. She was the love of his life. In fact, they’re one of the great cinematic examples of a couple with chemistry.’
‘Didn’t he have halitosis?’
‘I’m not talking about Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable. I’m talking about Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler. Chemistry, big-time.’
‘But don’t you think that Scarlett O’Hara and Ashley Wilkes is the ultimate being-in-love-with-love story? And that Scarlett’s big mistake was ignoring what was right under her nose all that time, dreaming of some illusory romance that could never live up to her idealisation of it?’
‘Christ, Tom, you sound like Germaine Greer.’
‘You can’t handle me – a mere male – understanding your silly film perfectly well, can you?’
‘Oh, yes, I can. But what are we talking about here? Gone With the Wind or us, huh?’
‘Definitely Gone With the Wind. Don’t know what you’re alluding to.’
Natalie laughed, and punched him gently in the stomach. ‘Well, I loved it. It’s been a long time since I saw it.’ It had been a long time since she’d seen any film she might have chosen. Simon liked violent, noisy, fast-paced stuff. Die Hard, Matrix. And those bloody Tolkien films. She’d had to wait, if there was something she wanted