The Cinema at Starlight Creek

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘Hmmm … you do have a point.’

  ‘How long are you here for?’

  ‘I’m supposed to be going back to Ashton tonight.’ Claire dreaded her meeting with Nigel and the rest of the production team.

  ‘But?’

  ‘There’s no but.’

  ‘I have amazing powers of intuition. There is a but. I can sense it.’ Scarlet’s cheeky wink made Claire wish she could spend more time in this friendly woman’s company.

  ‘I promise you, there is no but. I wish there was, but there isn’t.’ Claire laughed, and Scarlet joined in.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  Claire slumped against the chair, her shoulder blades uncomfortable against the hard wood. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

  CHAPTER 6

  1994 – Starlight Creek, Queensland

  Claire sat in the driver’s seat, shining the light from her torch onto the neatly written letter she’d spent the last hour penning. A mountain of screwed-up sheets of paper were next to her on the passenger seat.

  Folding the letter and placing it into an envelope Scarlet had given her, Claire got out of the car and crossed the road. The moon shone on the deserted street while she picked her way past potholes to avoid the indignity of tripping and sprawling face-first onto the ground.

  Standing out the front of the cinema, she turned the envelope in her hands and sighed. So much rode on the words on these pages.

  Claire crouched down and shoved it under the door then leaned her forehead against the cool glass pane. She took a few deep breaths.

  She went back to the car, turned on the engine and replayed Nigel’s phone message in her head: Come and see me the second you arrive in Ashton. I don’t care what time it is, you find me.

  Steering the car onto the road, she navigated through the dark and tried to prepare for the inevitable fireworks.

  * * *

  The drive to Ashton felt like four hours instead of forty minutes. Although her grandma had always told her not to borrow problems from the future, Claire’s mind couldn’t stop playing out the scenario where Nigel would lose his cool and she’d be out on her ear. She loved that he was a stickler for authenticity and it made absolute sense to film Amelia Elliott’s story in a cinema that had catapulted her to fame, though maybe Nigel was asking the impossible. Perhaps she was, too. This was Nigel’s dream. Claire’s dream. The people at Wattle Films’ dream. And it certainly was Amelia’s family’s dream. How could Claire ever expect Hattie or Luke to comprehend the importance of a dream that wasn’t theirs?

  She shook her head. The letter she’d left Hattie was useless.

  Nearing Ashton, Claire steered the ute onto the designated field for production vehicles. She parked, got out and stared up at the inky sky. A powder spray of stars twinkled above, their innocence spellbinding.

  Her bag sounded with the annoying Nokia ringtone and she pulled out the phone.

  ‘I’m already here, Nigel.’

  ‘Who’s Nigel?’

  ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Is that Claire Montgomery?’

  ‘Yes?’ she answered slowly.

  ‘This is Hattie Fitzpatrick. I’m wondering if we could meet tomorrow at nine o’clock?’

  Claire’s mouth hung open.

  ‘Claire?’

  ‘Oh! Yes, yes of course we can meet. Where would you prefer?’

  ‘How about the café? This time we’ll try to keep you dry.’

  * * *

  Claire sat in the café and checked her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. After meeting with Nigel the night before, she was able to dull his roar to a grumble after she’d told him about her upcoming meeting with Hattie. The night had been a restless one with Claire tossing and turning, so she’d risen early, taken a walk through the beautiful rainforest nearby, and sat by the river while she contemplated Hattie’s change of heart. Whatever the reason for Hattie calling, Claire was grateful.

  ‘More coffee?’ Scarlet asked as she approached Claire.

  ‘I think I’m good for now, thank you.’ Claire eyed off the carrot cake but decided against it. The knots in her belly made it impossible to stomach anything other than coffee. It had been that way since Hattie had called.

  ‘What’s brought you back? When you said goodbye yesterday I thought it was for good.’

  ‘I’m meeting Hattie Fitzpatrick this morning.’

  Scarlet’s eyes widened. ‘Oh! You’ve found a way to film here?’

  ‘I’d like to think this meeting is encouraging but I’ve had enough experience to know things aren’t always what they seem.’

  ‘Ain’t that the truth.’ Scarlet set to work wiping down the already clean surface of Claire’s table. ‘I often wonder if we’re supposed to jump through a series of hoops to prove we really want something. And even then, the universe will only hand us what we need.’

  ‘Which is sometimes not what we want.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Scarlet sat opposite. Claire loved Scarlet’s easygoing nature. ‘Take my sister, Laura, for example.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘We moved here because we needed to, not because we wanted to.’ Scarlet scrubbed at a small stain that looked well and truly embedded into the wooden surface.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘We lost our parents when we were young. I was nineteen and Laura thirteen.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Scarlet shrugged. ‘It’s life, unfortunately. Or death, I guess. The thing is, I was the party girl, always looking for a good time, never at home, constantly giving my parents lip, all that typical teenage-angst stuff. Then we lost them in a car accident.’

  ‘That’s horrible.’

  ‘It was. We don’t have any other family, apart from a grandmother in England, and so it was up to me to make sure we had a roof over our heads and food on the table. I had to change my life dramatically, and even though I resented it at the time, I now realise it was the best thing for me. If I’d continued on the way I was I could easily have ended up going down that party-girl rabbit hole, never to surface again.’

  ‘I think a lot of us have teetered on the edge of that particular hole.’

  ‘I guess. Overnight I had to become mother and father as well as big sister to a kid who had just become a teenager. I had no idea what I was doing but I owed it to my parents to look after my little sister. We were living in Brisbane at the time, but it got too expensive. Plus, I could see Laura was moving in crowds that weren’t good for her. So, we sold the house with the mortgage and packed up and arrived in Starlight Creek. We could afford a house here; the school is good, and I easily found work.’

  ‘Do you like it here?’

  Scarlet sat back, her expression serious. ‘I do, actually. Originally, I only did it out of desperation. Starlight Creek is so very different to my life in Brisbane but that’s not a bad thing. Laura seems settled, she’s getting really good grades in school, likes her part-time job here … on paper it looks fantastic.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘Like I was saying yesterday, I still feel like an outsider. There’s no sense of community in this town. Not like I expected, anyway.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘I think Starlight Creek used to be a close-knit community but that’s not the case anymore. Don’t get me wrong, people are friendly but there’s none of that unity that you expect from small towns.’ Scarlet laughed. ‘Or maybe I read too many books or watch too many movies and my ideas about small towns are skewed.’

  The bell above the door rang and in walked Hattie, not a hair out of place, her suit immaculately pressed. Claire glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine o’clock, right on the dot.

  Getting up to meet Hattie, Claire wasn’t sure what to do. Born into a family where hugs and kisses were as natural as waking up in the morning, she often had to stop herself from reaching out and enveloping someone she barely knew in an embrace. Normally she could read if someone was a hugger or not but with Hattie
Fitzpatrick, Claire had no clue.

  ‘Ah, Claire, it is lovely to see you.’ Hattie held out her hand and took Claire’s with affection. They walked over to the table where Claire had been sitting and a moment later Scarlet arrived with a pot of steaming tea and a cup and saucer with delicate blue and gold swirls. Hattie set about her ritual while Claire looked on, anxious to ask questions but forcing herself to remain silent. Hattie added one sugar to her masterpiece, closed her eyes as she had a long sip, put the cup down and fixed her gaze on Claire. ‘Thank you for waiting.’

  ‘It’s no problem at all.’

  ‘I imagine you have myriad questions running around that young mind of yours and I’ll give you the chance to ask them. But first, I wish to address the letter you wrote me.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Hattie let out a light laugh. ‘My dear girl, you don’t need to look so scared! In fact…’ She pulled out the neatly folded letter, opened it and lay it flat on the table. She donned her reading glasses and said, ‘There was so much to enjoy.’

  ‘Really?’ Claire breathed an internal sigh of relief.

  ‘You don’t have a great deal of faith in yourself, do you?’

  Claire paused. ‘I couldn’t do this job if I wasn’t confident. I need to believe in what I’m doing, introduce myself to new people, open myself up to being rejected …’

  ‘Does that happen often?’

  ‘Not until yesterday,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Yes, well, that’s another matter we need to discuss, but first let’s address this correspondence you left in my foyer.’

  Claire shuffled forward. ‘What did you want to discuss?’

  ‘Although these are only words on a page, I connected with every single one you wrote. There’s so much emotion, so much heart. I tried to remember your voice as I read it but I’m afraid it escaped me. Please, will you read it out loud? I want to imprint your inflections and feelings in my memory. I know I will read this again and again.’

  ‘You will?’

  ‘There goes the confidence again. Please,’ she passed the letter to Claire, ‘humour an old chook, will you?’

  This all felt very odd but right now Claire was willing to climb onto a unicycle, recite the alphabet backwards and wear an orange leotard. She cleared her throat and began:

  Dear Miss Fitzpatrick,

  First of all, please allow me to apologise for the manner in which I behaved today. I should have been upfront and told you why I was in town the second I realised the cinema was yours. It was never my intention to mislead you and I am very sorry if it came across this way. I enjoyed your company, and your compassion for my messy predicament was greatly appreciated. I was brought up to always be honest and respect other people’s feelings and I’m sad to think that I have wronged you in any way.

  Secondly, I am desperate.

  ‘I could see that,’ said Hattie.

  Claire glanced up, trying to read Hattie’s expression. Thankfully, there was no anger in her eyes. Claire returned to the words she’d slaved over:

  I’ve worked extremely hard to put myself through university to obtain a degree in film production. While I went through school I worked two jobs, ate baked beans for breakfast, lunch and dinner, took on work experience where I ended up spending money, not earning, and even now I am constantly studying the craft of film. This has been a passion since my grandma first took me to see Gone with the Wind at a cinema that showed Hollywood classics. I fell in love with actresses such as Vivien Leigh, Hedy Lamarr and Mae West—all strong women on and off the screen. They taught me about self-respect, reaching for goals no matter how impossible they seem, and having faith that hard work and passion will get you through.

  Being a woman in the film industry can be tough, no matter if you’re behind the camera or in front of it. Actually, the film industry is tough for everyone, but more so for women wanting to do roles that have been dominated by men. This is why the current production I’m working on means so very much. Amelia Elliott was a woman with vision, who followed her dream even when the naysayers told her it was a waste of time. Her imagination and persistence helped establish the Art Deco movement here in Australia. And even though her designs weren’t in large cities where so many designers received accolades, she still managed to make her mark and leave a legacy behind for all aspiring female architects. Amelia’s family has put a lot of money into this project and one of the producers is her great-great-grandson. To see her story on screen is a huge deal to many people. The production company I’m working for has poured a lot of love and effort into this project, which, I believe, will help multiple generations understand what Amelia went through to achieve what she did in a world that didn’t support women like her.

  Although I’m no Amelia Elliott, I understand what it’s like to have a dream and not receive encouragement from others. I come from a family of doctors and accountants and lawyers, all very noble professions, but none of these careers are for me. You see, my family have always instilled in me the belief that I should work hard and reach for my dreams, but what I didn’t realise, until it was time to choose a career, was that the encouragement came with a caveat. My family had always thought I would be ‘one of them’, so they had a shock when I told them I was going to work in film. Storytelling, whether fiction or documentary, has always been my passion and it took a lot of courage to follow my heart and go against my family’s wishes. Finally, after all these years and the goals I’ve achieved so far in my career, my family are behind me.

  Working on this film could take my career to the next level and further prove to my family that listening to my heart was the right thing to do. But if I fail, there is a strong chance they will doubt me once more. I know families are supposed to support each other no matter what, but that’s not always the case in real life.

  Please, I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you or making you feel guilty for saying no, I am sure you have solid reasons. I would just like you to understand my motives behind my actions and why, frankly, I’m so desperate to make this happen. I know we could build a set based on Amelia’s designs, but Amelia’s great-great-grandson as well as the director are adamant that we remain as authentic as possible. As I walked through your beautiful cinema I felt layers of history all around me—from Amelia’s challenges in making her dream a reality, to the thousands of people who have sat in this cinema watching movies or news reels, pondering their own dreams, creating new ones, discovering new love, rekindling old love or mourning the love they never found or once had then lost. A purpose-built set cannot capture these ghosts and long-forgotten feelings that would influence how the actors play their roles. But yours can.

  Miss Fitzpatrick, I hope this letter helps you understand there is not just one reason for filming in your cinema. In the end, the decision is yours alone, but I do hope that this letter might at least help you appreciate my intentions were honourable.

  Again, I apologise if I inadvertently upset you and I thank you for being so very kind to me.

  Sincerely,

  Claire Montgomery

  ‘You know what this is?’ Hattie asked.

  Claire shook her head.

  ‘This letter is a reflection of the struggle so many have had, or continue to have, around the world. The world is full of unfulfilled dreams and …’ she sipped her tea, ‘if I have the power to make someone’s dream come true then who am I to say no?’

  Claire swallowed hard. ‘Are you saying what I think you are?’

  ‘Would you like me to write it on a serviette, dear?’ The cheeky sparkle in Hattie’s eyes made her even more endearing.

  Claire wanted to jump up and envelop Hattie in a tight bear hug. Instead, she offered the widest smile possible. ‘Thank you. Thank you so very much.’

  Claire wanted to believe this was now a slam dunk, but there was still one major hurdle. ‘I hate to bring this up but—’

  ‘Luke?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Bless him, he
’s a good lad but can be a tad over-protective.’ Hattie tapped her fingers against the china cup.

  ‘I gathered that.’

  ‘Don’t worry about him. The cinema is mine, so this decision is mine. However, before I sign anything, I need to know the details.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Why film so much of Amelia’s story in my cinema? Surely her life outside those walls is more significant.’

  Claire settled against the chair, delighted by Hattie’s interest. ‘When Amelia first started designing she couldn’t get any work because she used her first name. Back then no one thought a woman should have that kind of career, even though she was more than capable.’

  ‘Those were different times, although it hasn’t changed a lot in some regards.’

  Claire nodded, refraining from getting on her high horse. ‘She started using initials in front of her surname and, a little like Cyrano de Bergerac, she had her male assistant stand in as AJ Elliott.’

  ‘That doesn’t fit in with what you wrote in the letter.’

  ‘Ah, it does, don’t worry.’ Claire took a moment to get her history straight. ‘Although Amelia was confident in her designs, the attitude of her day was that women should be in the kitchen or hosting tea parties. She had to find a way around it but soon came to the realisation she was cheating herself, and other women, of the opportunity to show the world what they can do. One of her clients was behind in payments so she set up camp in the cinema until the bill was settled. That cinema burned down years ago, but it was where she made the decision to publicly announce who she was and the work she did. It was also when she fell in love with her assistant.’

  ‘How wonderfully romantic! Although wouldn’t having a man by her side make her less … progressive?’

  ‘Not at all! It was because of her newfound strength that she had realised she could have anything men could—a career and marriage and, years later, children. That’s the beauty of her story. She set out trying to work around society’s expectations but eventually realised that the world wouldn’t change unless she did something about it.’

  ‘I would have loved to have met her.’