Surely, no judge in the land would send her down for giving in to temptation and throttling her niece? The phrase ‘justifiable homicide’ rattled around Carrie’s brain with pleasing harmony. Yes, she’d almost certainly get away it. Teenagers were tricky little sods, although her sister might have something to say about it. Angela managed her daughter’s strops with understated equanimity, but then she was very good at putting up with things. Carrie, on the other hand, found it difficult not to react. How come she could cope with a class full of other people’s kids but was ready to strangle her own niece for being a first-class, there was no other word for it, madam? It would be wrong to come right out and call her that, strangulation was therefore entirely reasonable. Her fingers twitched. So, so tempting.
‘Told you we wouldn’t get in,’ Jade pointed out for the third time, in her loud ‘I’m disgruntled voice’, attracting pernicious interest from the people in the queue behind them. No doubt a score of parents were heaving fervent sighs that she wasn’t theirs.
Did Jade have any idea how close she was to having the very living breath choked out of her?
‘You should have booked the tickets online, like I said to. It’s ridiculous,’ moaned Jade, contradicting any pleasure she might have gained in being right.
Carrie scowled at her niece. One, she flatly refused to pay a two-pound fee, per ticket, mind you, for the luxury of booking tickets in her own home and two, especially not for a film you could flipping well see for free on television. Breakfast at Tiffany’s had been around for fifty years.
‘Now, now, I’m sure there’s something else we can see,’ said Alan, stepping back to look up at the bank of screens advertising at least another eleven films being screened.
‘Yes,’ said the girl at the desk, with a touch of desperation, trying to hurry them along. ‘One of the films starts in two minutes.’ Whose side she was on? She’d soon be out of work if people paid the over-priced booking fees and didn’t buy tickets at the desk.
If that happened and you had to do it all online, there’d never be any chance to be spontaneous and decide to see a film. Take pot luck. Not that Carrie had done anything that random in ages. With sudden dismay it occurred to her that spontaneity was in short supply these days. Did that happen to everyone with age? Was it growing up? Maturing? Or just her getting duller?
‘Which one starts in two minutes?’ asked Carrie, straightening up and flashing the girl a brilliant smile. ‘Wait. Don’t tell me.’ She turned to the others. ‘Let’s go for it. It’ll be a surprise.’
They all stared at her as if she’d gone mad. As well they might, where had that crazy thought come from?
‘What! We can’t do that,’ said Angela. ‘We don’t even know what it is. We might hate it.’
‘That’s the most ridiculous thing. Why would you do that? That’s so lame.’ Jade shook her head. ‘Anyway there’ll only be tickets left for the crap films no one wants to see.’
‘And also rather risky, darling,’ added Alan.
‘Or it could be fun!’ Her voice lifted with enthusiasm, looking back at the united front of three deeply sceptical faces. ‘We might see a film we’d never normally choose and enjoy it. Broaden our horizons. A voyage of discovery! You might love it and you’d never have known. And what about that sense of anticipation?’
‘Like who does that?’ Jade punctuated every word with a different facial expression.
If displeased gurning ever became an Olympic sport, she’d surely clean up. ‘Sounds a pathetic, losery sort of thing to do.’ She continued.
‘Erm, if you could …’ the girl at the desk nodded her head, indicating the restive queue. ‘Or perhaps step aside while you’re deciding.’
‘No. Not happening. There’s no way I’m queuing all over again.’ Jade turned to the girl. ‘What tickets are left for anything that’s not totally shite?’
‘Well there are two screens showing An Unsuitable Man, which is pretty popular.’
‘Done.’ Jade gave Alan an unapologetic smile. ‘Sorry Al, it’s a chick flick.’
‘That’s fine, I think I’ll cope,’ replied Alan, amusement glinting in his eyes.
Carrie shot him a grateful smile and got her purse out. ‘Four tickets for that, then.’
‘Does anyone know what it’s about?’ asked Angela.
‘Not a clue, but it’s got Mr Delicious Arse in it, so if all else fails we’ve got man candy. Sorry, again Al.’
All was right again in Jade’s world.
‘Isn’t that a tad sexist?’ teased Carrie, on safer ground now.
‘Sue me.’ Jade grinned. ‘But I bet you agree. Sorry Al, again, but the man with the oh-so-yum butt is serious sex on legs.’
‘Jade!’ said Angela with a half-hearted exclamation of consternation, before adding, ‘But we still don’t know what it’s about.’
‘I’m guessing,’ said Carrie, paying for the tickets and tucking away her purse, ‘there’s a clue in the title, which probably contravenes the trade descriptions act. Cute unsuitable man reforms to become cute suitable man.’
‘And there speaks the scriptwriter,’ said Alan, wrapping his arm around her as they walked towards screen seven.
‘Then it sounds like a very good alternative,’ said Angela. ‘Although perhaps a bit unfair on the sole male in the party.’
‘Well Al would prefer that to a shoot ‘em, beat ‘em and kill ‘em, fast and furious thing, wouldn’t you? You’re used to all that Pride and Prejudice, Far From the Madding Crowd stuff.’ Jade shuddered. ‘I’m so glad, once this