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know, because I’ve seen you at it. Yes, and snoring too.
     Once you’ve got your kids penned in, you all have a nap, don’t you?” Shamefaced nodding and agreement from the adults. “And
     why do you fall asleep? Same reason I do. Because the films are rubbish! And this one you’re about to see is no exception.”
    Chris stared about wildly and flapped his hands at Ella, trying to make her stop, but she had her audience now, some of them
     laughing in agreement.
    “And another thing. The popcorn. Have you ever wondered why the popcorn is so expensive? Have you?”
    She had everyone’s attention now. “Go on—why?” a voice came from the queue. Chris clapped his hands to his face in dismay.
    “Because they think of a price and then quadruple it. Really, they do. I heard them discussing it one day. Y’know, ounce for
     ounce, the popcorn here is more expensive than beluga caviar. And that’s very expensive.”
    “It’s not true,” Chris wailed ineffectually. “Really, it’s not…”
    She turned to face Chris and went on in crystal clear tones. “And while I’m in the mood for exposing the truth, I may not
     wear contact lenses, but I’ve got nothing against people who do—or glasses, come to that. Nothing at all. In fact, my brother
     wears lenses and he’s one of my favorite people in the whole world. That stuff about Marie Stopes was just made up. I was
     trying not to hurt your feelings. I wish I hadn’t bothered now. You see, everyone…” Chris tried to manhandle Ella down
     to the foyer but she kept on—and on. “You see, Chris here asked me out and I really didn’t want to go. Well, can you blame
     me? I mean, look at the way he’s behaving now. That’s hardly likely to win a girl’s heart, is it? But I didn’t want to hurt
     his feelings, so I made up an excuse and…” They were almost out the door now, but the people in the queue were laughing,
     jockeying for a view of the tiny, still-shouting girl and the tall, furiously blushing man whose glasses were now halfway
     down his face.
    Out on the pavement at last, Chris scowled at her. “Don’t you ever even think of coming here again. Not even to see a film.
     You’re banned, understand? You can do your sleeping somewhere else. And don’t come crawling to me for a reference because
     it’ll give me the greatest pleasure to make sure everyone in the world knows what a lazy, lying, conniving little good-for-nothing
     you are. Now get out of here—go on!”
    Ella brushed herself down and squared her shoulders, a little cheered to hear the boos that greeted Chris on his return to
     the cinema, before setting off through the afternoon sunshine back to the flat. What did she care? It was a crap job anyway.
    By the time she got back home, Ella’s mood had dropped. She let herself in cautiously, wondering if Frankie was there. She
     didn’t fancy having to explain that she’d lost yet another job, and he’d be bound to guess if she turned up at this time of
     the day. Fortunately, there was no sign of him although he’d not been gone long, to judge from the evidence. Ella cut herself
     a large slice of the still-warm fruit loaf and, scorning a plate, cupped her spare hand beneath to catch the crumbs before
     ambling over to have a lie-down on the sofa.
    She sighed. It wasn’t even as if Frankie would be cross when she told him. He’d just look sort of disappointed, the way he
     did when he didn’t get a part he’d auditioned for. And worried too. That was what she really hated—when Frankie looked worried.
     She knew they were short of cash. She knew she shouldn’t have run up such a big phone bill. She knew she should really get
     a sensible job, but she hadn’t heard back from the radio station and there just wasn’t anything else out there that seemed
     even vaguely bearable, let alone interesting.
    Maybe she’d call one of her old college friends—although most of them had jobs that kept them busy during the day. She