Page 147 of A Night with Damien Spur

Fair warning, the Voice said,she’s very enthusiastic. Already writing the scenario and it’s feature length – she’s hooked.

Chapter 45

Damien and Frances had spent many happy months together: dinners, walks in the park, a long weekend in Tuscany, working on her screenplay.

On graduation day, Damien came to the show. Held her hand in the dark.

So here he was again, Damien Spur the Svengali, sitting with a zany American whose raw ambition and enthusiasm had pulled him into her journey, just like Anna had.

He stole a glance at Frances, her eyes focused on the cinema screen.

Title up –Lost and Found: A short film by Frances Swift.

The opening shot – a little boy lost in a labyrinthian department store. The camera tracks him as he weaves in and out through a sea of legs and then the scene swiftly cross-cuts to a woman slumped in a chair in the manager’s office.

‘Please help me,’ she sobs. ‘It was my fault. Jamie was pulling my hand. Wanted to go to the sweet shop. And he tugged so hard that I lost my grip. The next minute he’d gone.’

The scene shifts back to the little boy.

The film swirls into a dizzying kaleidoscope of colour and sound as the little boy spins round and round, panic etched on his tear-streaked face. ‘Mummy,’ he sobs, his voice raw with fear. ‘Where’s my mummy?’

A woman materialises from the throng, her face obscured by dark glasses and a vibrant blue scarf. She clasps Jamie’s hand, her grip surprisingly strong. ‘Don’t worry, little one,’ she murmurs, her voice husky and strangely calming. ‘We’ll find your mummy. I know just where to look.’

Swiping a tissue from her bag she dabs his eyes. ‘I think she might be searching for you outside. Shhh, no need to cry.’ She puts her finger to her lips and with a predatory grasp steers him by his shoulders towards the exit.

The loud hum of voices fade into a murmur. Then, a crackle, a hiss, and a man’s voice on the Tannoy cuts through the silence echoing through the store.

‘Jamie Jones, stay where you are. Your mum is coming to get you.’

‘Wow! That’s me! I’m Jamie.’ The child looks up as the crowd of shoppers circle round him.

There was a palpable intake of breath from the audience as the tension rose.

For a brief moment the camera moves in on the woman’s face, her grimace swiftly masked by a forced smile.

‘Looks like your mum has found you, sweetie, so you don’t need me anymore.’

Jamie sees the bobbing head of his mother as she zigzags through the shoppers to meet him.

‘Jamie!’ she cries.

And they are in each other’s arms.

‘It’s alright, Mum, this nice lady was looking after me.’

But when Jamie turns back the woman has gone.

Jamie’s mum looks towards the exit and briefly catches the profile of a woman before she vanishes into the street, blue scarf fluttering.

The film ended in a hushed silence, then the theatre erupted in a thunderous wave of applause punctuated by whoops and cheers.

So, Damien, another of your prodigies on their way,said the Voice.

***

He was fond of Frances. She had terrific energy, she was interesting, warm, sexy… always there for the taking. When he needed a break, she would leave him alone. Very accommodating. She slipped in and out of his life without making waves. No surprises. He knew where he stood; she was an open book that was easy to read.

Yes, Frances was great, but she wasn’t a soulmate. Some people live without combat, settle for a restful life. Not Damien. No compromise.

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