November 1971 (part 1)

One

Ardee Cinema, our hometown- November 1971

"Aren't you going to lay those leaflets out a little neater?"

"Eileen, you've become a right b***h since Arthur left."

“You don’t need to be so rude!”

“I just don’t understand why you seem to be punishing me.”

Eileen sighed. "Probably because I miss him. Same reason as you, hey?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're on edge constantly. I know it hurts, pet, but I don't think he's coming back." She gave a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Mills.”

"Not even to see everyone?" Amelia sounded so hopeful.

“I doubt it. You’ve never been there have you?”

‘There’ was the picturesque seaside town to which Arthur had moved to stay with some old family friends, and their daughter, Gill- Arthur’s first love. Amelia shook her head. “I saw the postcard Gill sent him a few months ago. It looks okay, I suppose.”

“Well, take it from me- it’s stunning,” Eileen told her. “It’s cold and rainy, but isn’t everywhere?”

“Everywhere in this country is cold and rainy. I’m not so sure about everywhere else,” joked Amelia. “But I just don’t understand why he hasn’t been back yet. He only lives a few hours away!”

"Trust me, if he comes back he's bringing Gill. You know I always loved seeing your little face around the house but he changes when he's with her. If he loved you before, she has wiped it out of him."

"But you're his mother! Surely you could talk to him."

“No, I’m not going to do that to him.”

“But I just want-”

"Amelia, drop it."

She was shocked at Eileen's abruptness. "Fine.” Eileen didn’t offer anything in response, and after a few seconds, Amelia grew uneasy in the silence. “What time is it?"

"Quarter past. I'm going on my lunch break. Do you want anything?"

Amelia shook her head. Truthfully, she was grateful for the chance to be alone with her thoughts. School was easy for her- she was intelligent and her mind was quick and sharp, and so she never had a problem keeping up with work without having to focus on it too much. Even when she took her A levels, she still managed to spend a lot of time alone with herself, thinking about fantasies and happy endings when she should have been thinking about equations. But since she had left education and entered the ‘dastardly world of work,’ as her mother called it, she found herself becoming drawn into the mundanities of her everyday life, and obsessing over them as though these trivialities were life or death matters. It was exhausting, being Amelia, and even being around her- she cared about people's perceptions of her with a brand new fervour, and this was a difficult adjustment. Before she met Arthur, and was drawn into the miniature universe that was the Ardee Cinema and its staff, she had been almost carefree.

Once Eileen had gone, Amelia leaned against the counter and closed her eyes. Outside was a grey, rainy day, and when her eyes were shut she could pretend that the rain was falling in the sss rainforest, just a few short feet away from where she sat in shelter underneath a cascading tree. There were no people outside- just animals, revelling in the clear, lifegiving water falling over them like liquid diamond. The sun was breaking through the clouds, showering the green land beneath with rainbows. It was bliss.

She opened her eyes. The doors were still closed, shielding her from outside. But there was no rainforest- just a bleak concrete wasteland. There were no animals languishing in the rain, just busy people hiding from it. Amelia sighed- her escape had been much needed.

For what felt like forever, but was probably only fifteen minutes, Amelia sat with her chin resting in her hands, and stared out of the window. She concocted elaborate backstories for every passer-by- the man in the too-tight suit was walking so briskly as he was late for a meeting which would decide the fate of his family company; the teenagers coming out of the craft shop laden with bags were on their way home to make banners for the protests; the old lady struggling to cross the road was shuffling aimlessly as she didn't see much point in living since the death of her husband. Then Eileen jerked her back to life.

"I've been thinking of perming my hair; what do you think?"

"Don't do that."

"Why not? Margaret down the street had hers done and it looks lovely." She bustled behind the front desk, and sat down heavily.

"You'll look like an old biddy. Plus," Amelia continued, cutting off Eileen before she could speak. "You're not to get it wet for twenty-four hours after you've had it done. How do you expect to manage that in this country?"

Eileen sighed. "True. I suppose I just need a change."

“Why? What’s wrong with just plodding along as we are?”

“If someone told you that you’d have to plod along like this for the rest of your life, would you be happy?” Eileen grinned smugly at Amelia’s silence. “I didn’t think so.”

Amelia didn't like when conversations weren't about her. Unfortunately, my good friend had a tendency to be selfish. "What's so special about Gill anyway?"

Eileen rested her arms and chest on the counter. She wasn't an old woman, but she creaked like one. "If only you had met us three months earlier. You wouldn't believe it if you didn't see. She turns him into sunshine."

"That's a very vivid metaphor."

"And he turns her into a storm." She smiled at Amelia's stormy expression. "But it's magnetic. You'll see, someday." Her eyes widened and sparkled. "Look busy!”

"Huh?"

"Ladies!" Matthew's voice came booming across the empty room. He was a wonderful man and a fantastic manager of people, but his cinema's profits weren't the greatest reflection of this. "I'd like you to meet Jonathon, our new theatre attendant."

The new boy smiled; his teeth were so white that they sent pangs of annoyance through her.

"How can you even afford to pay him?"

"Amelia, I can't keep putting up with your attitude."

She noticed Jonathon c***k the tiniest of smiles. It was almost as though it were only meant for her. She nearly missed it.

"Hello love!" Eileen bustled over to him and bundled him into a hug. It broke Amelia's stony face- never was a woman more like home than Eileen, and she never failed to brighten a room. "I'm Eileen, the cleaner, and this is Amelia- our front desk attendant!"

"Amelia. Hello."

"You're English?" Amelia was not impressed. (She often preached about republicanism but in actuality was politically illiterate.)

"Well, yes, but I have been here since I was a teenager. Pay my accent no attention- I am as socially aware as the doormat."

"Still, you should probably avoid talking to the customers."

"Amelia!" Eileen was shocked. "Matthew is right, you are awfully rude lately!"

"No, don't worry," chuckled Jonathon. "I like them feisty."

"Excuse me? Matthew-" But he had already left his staff to get acquainted. "Most Irish girls are feisty when confronted with English men with far too much cockiness."

"Well, maybe Irish girls need to give English men a chance. I promise, we don't disappoint." He winked, and it revolted her.

"Trust me, I am easy to disappoint."

"High standards," piped Eileen. "Only the best for Amelia." She chuckled, and ambled over to the supplies cupboard with a rag in her hand.

"Stop that!" Amelia felt flustered.

"Stop what?"

"The flirting."

Jonathon laughed heartily. "Sweetheart, you'd know about it if I was flirting"

"And I know it. Has Matthew showed you around?"

He shook his head. "Will you?"

"No. I'm busy."

"Doing what?" He swung his arms out to his sides. "There's no one here."

"Well, I have to reorganise the leaflets, and sweep the floors..."

"Those leaflets look pretty neat to me. And isn't Eileen the cleaner? She'll sweep the floors."

“Okay, well,  I can’t leave the desk unattended for too long.”

“It won’t take longer than half an hour, I promise. I walk quickly.” It felt as though he was pressing her, and she was bristling.

“And Matthew could come back in here at any minute and see that I’m not working.”

“Wouldn’t he want you to acquaint a new staff member with this place?”

"Fine!" Already she was exasperated, but couldn't quite explain why, even when I asked her years later. "Let's go."

"Where?" he asked, bemused.

"So I can show you around this bloody building, of course!" She marched off towards the staff room, with Jonathon hot on her heels.

"So this is..."

"The staff room. You'll probably spend ninety percent of your time here, as we never get any customers."

"Right."

"Coffee's shite. Bring your own."

"Got it."

"I'll show you the theatres now."

Never had anyone asked her so many questions! Jonathon wanted to know how long Amelia had worked there, where she was from, what the other staff had been like, why his predecessor left... it was exhausting. An agonising twenty minutes later, they arrived back in the lobby. Eileen was sweeping the floors.

"So you stayed to do A levels? Why do you work here then?"

Amelia snapped around to face him. "Jesus Christ will you just stop asking me so many questions? I feel like I'm in a fecking interrogation!"

"I'm sorry about her," gushed Eileen. "She's had a hard day. Amelia, maybe you should go home?"

"Maybe I should. But I'm not going to. I'm going to make a coffee."

"I'll join you."

Amelia rolled her eyes- Jonathon didn't seem to understand that she was trying to get away from him, not take him somewhere private.  "Fine." She hoped her curt tone would warn him away.

"I'll use your coffee, if you don't mind."

"Okay!"

Once in the staff room, she busied herself with making coffee, and made a point of only making one. Jonathon walked over to the kettle once she was seated, and after searching for a few moments, put two mugs down on the counter.

"I already have a coffee," she pointed.

"I know. I'm having two."

"Two?" At this point it felt that her eyes were permanently rolled back into her skull. "Is there any need?"

"I like two. I drink them quicker than I can make them, so it’s just easier this way.”

"Are they at least different?"

"No, two black coffees with no sugar."

"Exciting."

"I am exciting." He laughed. "No, really- wow, you're hard to crack."

"Excellent."

He wasn't giving up. "So what are your plans later?"

"I'm going to pick my cousin up from work and then going home to my mother."

"Aren't you going to ask me what my plans are?"

"No."

"Where does your cousin work?"

"At the furniture shop on Caper Drive- why are you asking me so many questions?"

"Because women aren't usually so repulsed by me."

Amelia looked up from her coffee and studied him, standing tall and dark at the counter. He leaned against it, confidence spilling from his pores, dressed in an ill-fitting yet cosy fair-isle jumper and jeans which seemed a little too tight. His messy dark hair flowed seamlessly into the stubble across his strong jaw, and she was definitely not repulsed by him. Not physically, at least.

"I'm not repulsed," she said truthfully. She regretted this instantly. "But you are English, and annoying, and obnoxious- I mean, what sort of man calls a woman "feisty" at their first meeting? Or sweetheart? You must be aware that pisses people off."

"And you, my dear Amelia, are ever so slightly racist. I can't help being English. See you later?"

Why did that sound like a question? She nodded despite being unable to respond with her words. For once, Amelia, the master of the most vivid imagination and colourful tongue in Ireland, was lost for words.