Grace: And that includes fudge sauce.
Tempting. But I had to remain firm. I typed back.
Me: CRYING ALL OVER AGAIN.
But I didn’t want to see the film, think about the film, know about the film, or even eat the free ice cream for the film. Well, maybe that one, a bit.
Me: Message when you’re out.
Me: And sorry.
Grace: SORRY??? I have popcorn, am sitting so close to Maeve’s seat I could sniff her hair, and there’s an empty seat which means v soon I might be witnessing Joseph D Chambers in the FLESH 
OK. Maybe I wasn’t the worst friend in the world.
Grace: Have I mentioned he’s 
I think that was a good thing.
Grace: btw my bag fits loads of popcorn so you shall feast after all 
Grace was officially the best. I was dying to tell her what had happened – her face would make this all so much better, but it was a story that needed to be told in person.
Me: You are a legend.
Me: Am going to tell Mum and Dad I’ve got food poisoning.
Grace: 
So I did. But the screening was running late and I had to field a ten-minute call from Dad trying to track me down. In a stroke of genius, I flicked on video to show my sweaty face and said the only way I would feel better was if they supported the film and watched it while I drank some water and stayed in the bathroom. Which did the trick and he agreed that as long as I stayed in the cinema, we were OK to meet after the film. Result! Just enough time for me to make a full fake recovery in time for our booking at Pizza Express. Those dough balls weren’t going to eat themselves.
But half an hour later, my messages to Grace stopped getting delivered. Her phone must be off for the film. And as safe and quiet as it was in this bathroom, I couldn’t spend another two and a half hours in here. I tied my hoodie round my shoulders. Not great, but at least people might not recognize me from earlier. I poked my head out the door and looked round the hallway. PHEW. The people with clipboards had disappeared and it was just normal cinema staff sweeping up and packing away the displays.
I walked out carefully, trying to blend in with the background, looking for my next hiding place. And there it was! A huge storage room with the door open, nothing inside except props, a popcorn cart and, best of all, zero people. Perfect.
“You!” A guy Tess’s age appeared out of nowhere. He had perfectly slicked-over blond hair, a headset like Clipboard Man and was wearing a super-smart suit. I froze. Was he talking to me? “I don’t think you’re getting paid to be doing…” I looked around, but it was only me here. “Nothing?”
“I, er, don’t work here?” Not sure why I said it like a question. I held out my wristband. He physically recoiled.
“You’re a … guest?!?” Avoiding making eye contact, like I was contagious, he lifted up the wristband to inspect it. “A triple A, top VIP-level guest?”
“I guess so.”
“And that’s …” He looked me up and down … “what you decided to wear?” Did his eye actually twitch?
“I, er … also guess so?”
“So, whose list are you on…?”
I really didn’t want to give him any details. But I also wasn’t sure how to avoid them.
“My family. The, er, Bells?”
He scrolled on his phone. Down and down, until.
“Wait.” He looked up at me. “Are you … Molly?”
Uh-oh. Where was this going?
“That is what people call me. Yes.” Awkward silence. “Because that is my name.”
The guy nodded slowly, like I’d solved the mystery of why pizzas are round but their boxes are square.
“Little. Elf. Girl.” He swept his hand through the air as if visualizing it. “Almost ten years later.” Instinctively I shrunk backwards at the E-word, as if my hoodie could somehow ingest me whole. HOODIE, PLEASE INGEST ME WHOLE. “Now THAT is a press story I would LOVE to put out – ‘You Won’t Believe What the Cutest Elf in the Whole Wide World Looks Like Now!’”
“No way!” I blurted out. But I could picture it all too clearly, along with a terrible school photo of me. “Nope.” I shook my head. “Just no. That’s not how it is…”
“So you’re not Elf Girl?” He looked thoroughly confused.
Gulp. “Erm, well, sort of. Maybe. But not really. Not any more.”
“Oh, come on. Your fans would love to see it!” I snorted. Fans?! This guy was more delusional than Stormy! “Everyone would love to see it.”
Not true. I was already seeing it, and it was making me want to have a lie-down in a quiet room. For ten to twenty years.
“They wouldn’t. And no one is going to. EVER. Ever.” Just in case he wasn’t getting the message.
“So if I was to invite you to all the press events for Sleigh Another Day you’d say…”
