Short Story Movie Night

“Excuse me, excuse me, terribly sorry.” The lady squeezed down the crowded cinema row towards the vacant seat next to Keith.

“Apparently this is my chair,” she said, checking her ticket.

“The man at the sales kiosk was very particular that I have to sit where I’m put.”

“It’s certainly a packed house tonight,” Keith said to be conversational.

“Isn’t it just?” She sat down, arranging her handbag on her knee. “I don’t even know what the film is.”

“You don’t?” Keith asked, surprised.

“Has it got that nice Clint Eastwood in it?” she asked, twisting round to scan the auditorium. “I loved him in Bridges of Madison County.”

“Perhaps he makes a cameo?”

Keith said uncertainly. “I take it you don’t go to the pictures very often?”

“Now I think about it,” she paused thoughtfully, “that was probably the last time I went.” She frowned. “I don’t like going on my own.”

Keith nodded sympathetically. He also didn’t particularly like going to the cinema alone, but it was better than not going at all. Still, he was glad to have a bit of company for a change. She leaned forward and peered over the rows in front, causing the people behind them to tut.

“Is there a problem with your chair? We can swap if you’d prefer?” Keith asked, feeling

Don’t miss out on your sleep

chivalrous. “Mine’s got a perfect view of the screen.”

“It’s not really the screen that I’m here to see,” she whispered. Keith was surprised. “So what are you here to see?”

“My son.” She opened her handbag and took out a packet of lemon sherbets. “He’s here on a date and I thought I’d better come along to keep an eye on him.”

Keith raised his eyebrows.

“Just in case,” she added, as though this was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

“In case of what?” Keith persisted.

“You hear all these horror stories about people going on blind dates with people they’ve met online,” she mused, “don’t you?”

Keith wasn’t sure he’d heard any horror stories, but he was a bit out of touch with these things.

“Your son’s on a first date with someone he met online?” he asked. “That’s all very modern, isn’t it?”

“Well, no,” she said, “I believe she’s someone he knows from his running club.”

“It’s not a blind date then?”

Keith asked.

“Well, I’ve never seen what she looks like,” she said, “and besides, you know what these young people are like, anything could go wrong. I’m just here for back up.”

“Ah, young love,” Keith said nodding. “How old is he?”

“Thirty six,” she said, and then added quickly, “though he’ll always be my little boy.”

Keith understood perfectly.

“Still, he could need me.” She untwisted a sweet from its wrapper and popped it in her mouth. “He could lose his car keys.”

Just then her mobile phone chirped, causing the people behind them to tut again. She pulled it from her handbag.

“See!” She studied the screen and tapped. “I was right! He’s texting me.”

“Has he lost his car keys?” Keith asked.

“No,” she frowned. “It says, ‘Mum, stop stalking me’.”

Keith tried not to laugh.

“Anyway, I’m not here to see him, I’m here to watch a movie with my new friend.” She brusquely turned off the phone. “What’s this film all about, anyway?”

“I think we’re about to find out,” Keith smiled warmly. It had been a while since he’d made a new friend.

“Nice to meet you.” She offered him the bag of lemon sherbets.

“I’m Meryl.”

“I’m Clint,” he said, and she laughed just as the lights went down.

By Jackie Brewster