Jesse smiles another small grin. "I asked how you found your way into theatre."
The waiter interrupts, and they order drinks, and Casey orders spaghetti with meatballs and Jesse has the same, hold the meatballs. Casey scans his brain for reasons why, but then he figures he should answer Jesse 's question, so: "I was actually born in Cali. My father is American, and Mum 's British, but when I was - well, the times then, it wasn 't too great in California, so we moved to the UK."
Jesse looks like he 's figuring something out in his head when he interrupts, "The war started."
Casey nods. "It wasn 't brilliant foresight on their part, but who saw anything coming?" Thinking about that time makes him think about the smells in London, the rubble, the destruction - then living with it for many years after the war. It 's painful, it 'll probably always be so, but he forges on to get through this part. "The only escape for me was the pictures, when we could afford it. I 'd watch, and when we 'd go see something from America I 'd think about my birthplace and just," he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to remember the feeling of the Carlton Cinema in Canonbury in the northern part of the city, the seats and biggest screen he 'd ever seen.
"I 'd imagine I was elsewhere, a place that felt safe where I could be somebody else, which was, in fact myself." He opens his eyes, feeling silly, but when he does he sees Jesse 's eyes locked on him, lips parted. Rapt. "I - I had a hard time being