He is at the cinema. Enjoying the dark. His common retreat, a small, art house cinema, a twenty minute bus journey away. Can't stand multiplexes. Comfortable bucket chairs, drinks and food at extortionate prices, virtually every film aimed at glutinous, popcorn-devouring children, and those damned adults with the viewing habits and mental capacity of the under-14s.
He comes here a few times a week, doesn't mind what he's watching. Tonight a small and beautiful Korean film. 3 Iron. He finds himself in love with the girl, even though she looks nothing like Jo. Elegy and melancholy, love and sadness. He is entranced, drawn in by the romance. The silence. With beautiful perfection, the lovers never speak.
There are less than ten people in the audience, as is often the case, but tonight there is someone special. At first he'd thought it was Jo herself, here in the flesh. She had come here often enough with him in the past, why wouldn't she be here now?
The more he looks, however, the more he sees the differences. It's not Jo, just someone who dares to look like her. Yet he also convinces himself of the similarities. She sits alone, and he wonders what kind of woman goes to the cinema unaccompanied, particularly to such a romantic film? What message is she sending out?
It will be dark when they get out; the streets will be quiet. He could talk to her. He could take it a bit further. He imagines leaning in towards her, her hair in his face, breathing her in. Hesitation before he kisses her or touches her. That lovely moment of anticipation. A finger drawn softly across her neck, his lips touching the bottom of her ear.
As the film progresses, he becomes agitated. He is distracted, until eventually the film has lost him. Not a long film, but by the end he cannot wait for it to be over. There's someone in the cinema with whom he has business, and that business knocks everything else from his mind.
And as the credits finally roll, and the woman who might well be Jo rises from her seat, he bides his time, listening to the thumping of his heart. It had been like this the first time with Jo too. And the last.
The cinema is quiet, the few people in attendance with nothing to say, as if influenced by the silence of the principal characters.
The woman who is not Jo is also distracted, also did not allow herself to be completely immersed in the film. As she leaves the cinema she wonders whether to call her boyfriend — getting as far as taking her mobile from her bag — but at the same time knowing that she will leave it until she gets home.
There is a stupid argument to be continued, and it would have to be continued that evening, but she's prepared to leave it for as long as possible.
However, on this particular evening, she will never reach her front door.