Every time you make a move

Flashback Filler: Reality calls pt 2

The Kensington Odeon

Monica's feet in her sandals shuffled uncomfortably as she stood on the lamp lit pavement and stared up at the showtimes above the entrance, trying to decide what she liked best on the programme. But the selection of features was so small, for there were only three screens and she was too nervous waiting on Freddie to figure it out.

The kiss goodbye from him that morning on the doorstep as he set off for the studio had been replaying in her head all day, before she took off and spent a few hours looking around shop windows and cafes and restaurants for signs advertising jobs, but with no luck at all. Her CV was yet to be posted back to her by her parents, and the job centre was her last resort, but she was considering it only if still couldn't find anywhere in a month's time.

Later in the day, Monica had gotten back to Freddie's flat in time to change into an black cotton buttoned blouse and elegant khaki palazzo pants, paired with her flats and a staple camel coat. It wasn't a lot, but it was all she had left with her in her suitcase that was clean and mostly unworn.

She found a pair of curling irons in Freddie's bathroom (which she assumed were Mary's, but she didn't care) and hoped that enhancing the waves in her brown hair, and that a few coats of mascara, would improve the way she felt about her overall appearance before she put the keys he left in her care safe in her leather shoulder bag and left.

Monica's heart skipped a beat at each an every taxi that pulled up at the entrance to the cinema, hoping it was him. She'd turn around and look at the upcoming film posters on the door lit up by the overhead lights and pretend to be distracted as whoever it was emerged from their cab.

Eventually Freddie did arrive after she waited for ten or fifteen minutes, and at that point she'd gotten so bored of waiting and had forgotten how to be anxious that she was now counting spare change in her pocket. She gave a few pounds the homeless man sitting at the lamppost a hundred yards away from where she stood, and then began to calculate much was left to buy perhaps a small tub of popcorn when she felt a small tap on her shoulder.

She thought that it was a beggar that had observed her giving change from a distance so she quickly put her purse back onto her coat pocket.

But the velvety British voice it belonged to said otherwise, "Darling, why must you act so suspiciously?"

Freddie had arrived with a pair of tinted sunglasses to partially mask his identity, wearing a dark fur coat for the night was cool, dark flares embroidered with stars where there were meant to be pockets, and white leather trainers.

"Hello." she blushed as she forced a smile.

He smiled back as he pulled her into his arms, sliding his tongue between her lips.

Such a public display of affection left her feeling bashful, for she hadn't kissed him back out in the open in front of so many eyes since the night that they met at the club, or on the taxi back to the hotel.

But then again time whirled by in that room, and their senses were lost in a trance.

His lips parted hers, "You found your way here alright?"

She nodded, her fingers digging into the fur of his coat, "Yes. I just followed your instructions... I didn't see you coming back though"

"I asked the driver to park around the corner so that nobody would recognise me," he could feel stares on him, "We should go inside quickly though"

"Yes, lets" she noticed people stopping and looking in their general direction.

"I wish I prepared myself for this" she thought as it begun to occur that from now on her private life wasn't going to remain private for long.