in a mock-threatening voice, ‘You’re going to rehearse us, because we still need it. And if you don’t, you might find yourself going off to be a Broadway actress all by yourself!’
‘Never. You’ll both be with me,’ Katie declared, pulling the girls closer, putting an arm around each one of them, glancing at Denise admiringly. Her velvet-brown eyes, full of hidden depths, were sparkling. She was never anything but high-spirited and happy, bubbling with laughter and good humour. She had a kind of golden radiance about her, with her long blonde hair and pink-and-white porcelain skin. She was a genuine All-American beauty, slender, shapely and long-legged.
In contrast, Carly, who had been Katie’s closest friend since they were toddlers, was very different. She was quieter, had a more introspective demeanour, was a little fey at times, and her seductive, rather dramatic looks belied her retiring, gentle nature. Eyeing her, Katie thought that even in her school clothes she looked voluptuous. Carly had a beautiful diminutive figure, and with her short dark curls and pansy-violet eyes had the look of a young Elizabeth Taylor.
With a sudden rush of emotion, Katie felt her abiding friendship and love for them both flowing through her…they were her dearest, her very best friends.
‘It’s the three of us or nothing!’ Katie exclaimed emphatically. ‘And I’ll be glad to rehearse with you tomorrow. But listen up you two, you’re much better than you think. Just remember that.’
Carly and Denise beamed on hearing these words, but neither girl made a comment and, arms linked, the three of them left the stage together.
As they always did, they went through the long-established ritual of sitting at the table drinking a bottle of Coke each. Today they were intent on dissecting Katie’s performance, and generally discussing their parts, their set pieces for the concert. It was Carly who changed the subject, when she suddenly straightened in her chair and said to Katie, ‘Do you think your Aunt Bridget will be able to find us an apartment in New York? Do you really think it’s all going to happen for us?’
Katie nodded. ‘I do. Absolutely. And she said we can stay with her at the loft in Tribeca for as long as we want.’
Denise interjected, ‘Mrs Cooke is sure we’ll be able to get into the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. She even said she’ll help us.’ Denise reached out, squeezed Carly’s arm. ‘Don’t be such a worry wart.’
Carly let out a sigh, then she leaned back in the chair, relaxing, sipping her Coke. After a moment, she said in a reflective voice, ‘Just think, next year at this time we’ll be in the big city, attending drama classes and camping out at Aunt Bridget’s fancy loft.’
‘Hey, it’s not all that fancy,’ Katie exclaimed, grinning at her. ‘But it’s comfortable, I’ll say that.’ She jumped up, headed towards the curtained alcove which they used as a changing room. Pulling the curtain open, she stepped inside, then swung her head, explained, ‘I’ve got to hurry, I’m really late to help Mom with supper.’ She eyed the Portia and Desdemona costumes and other items strewn around haphazardly, and shook her head. ‘I just don’t have time to help you tidy up, I’m sorry.’
‘That’s no problem,’ Carly assured her. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter if it’s messy in here. Nobody ever comes to the barn except us.’
‘Uncle Ted says that after all these years it’s ours.’ Denise looked from Carly to Katie and grinned, then reached for the copy of Othello which lay on the table. She started to flip through the pages of the play looking for the part she was learning.
Katie disappeared behind the curtain; Carly opened The Merchant of Venice, wanting to study Portia’s famous ‘quality of mercy’ speech, wondering if she would ever master it, worrying about it again, as she had for several weeks.
Within seconds, Katie was stepping out of the curtained alcove, wearing her school clothes and struggling into her jacket. ‘See you in class tomorrow,’ she said, as she rushed across the floor to the door.
Denise flashed her bright smile and Carly, looking up, asked, ‘Can you please bring the long black wig tomorrow, Katie? I think it might work for my Portia.’
‘Yes, it’ll look great on you. I’ll bring it to school, Carly.’ She waved nonchalantly over her shoulder as she left the barn.
Katie closed the heavy barn door behind her and shrugged deeper into her jacket. It had turned cold and she shivered as she hurried up the hill leading to the highway. Her mind was still on Carly and Denise. They were so much better than they realized, good actresses who were accomplished and knew what they were doing. But they didn’t give themselves enough credit, genuinely needed to gain more self-confidence, that was their main problem.
Mrs Cooke, their teacher, who ran the drama group and taught acting at the high school, predicted great things for them all in the next few years, because of their talent, dedication, and willingness to work hard. It pleased Katie that Heather Cooke believed in them with such conviction that she was encouraging their ambition to work in the theatre.
Katie trudged on up the steep slope, continuing to think about her best friends, imagining what it would be like to be living in New York and studying at the academy. She could hardly wait for the time to come and she knew Carly and Denise felt the same way.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw rapid movement close to the mass of rhododendron bushes growing in profusion on the hillside. She stopped abruptly, half turned, stood frowning in puzzlement at the clump of dark-green bushes. But everything was still, silent, and there was no sign of life.
Shrugging dismissively, Katie continued on up the slope, deciding that the dark flash must have been a deer. There were a great number of them in the Litchfield hills, and they were becoming bolder. Everyone’s gardens, her mother’s included, attested to that fact.
Within minutes, the hillside flattened out into a piece of barren land that stretched all the way to the highway. This cut through New Milford, ran up to Kent and the small towns beyond.
Katie paused at the side of the road to let a truck pass, and then ran across to the other side. A second or two later she was on the dirt track that led through the wide meadows behind Dovecote Farm, a local landmark with its picturesque red barns and silos, and, in the summer, lush fields of rippling golden wheat.
At one moment, as she walked along, she glanced up. The sky had turned the colour of old iron, bitter, remote, and forbidding. Dusk was slowly descending and the meadows were beginning to fill with shadows. Wanting to get home as fast as possible, she began to jog down the track, and found herself plunging deeper into the fields. But soon she realized she must slow down. A faint mist was rising, wispy and vaporous, floating in front of her like a grey veil; trees and hedges were rapidly becoming blurred, turning into weird inchoate shapes looming all around her. Having tramped this dirt track from early childhood, her feet knew it well. Nevertheless, she found herself moving at a snail’s pace, growing more cautious, afraid of stumbling in the thick fog.
Far off, in the distance, she heard cows lowing, and even farther away a dog was barking. These distant sounds were reassuring in their familiarity, yet still she felt a loneliness pervading the deserted fields, a strange sense of melancholy, and she was unexpectedly uneasy. It had grown even colder. She pulled her jacket around her chest, moving faster again, growing conscious of the time, as usual worrying about her mother.
It did not take Katie much longer to reach the end of the dirt path, and she finally came to the wide road which led into the area where she lived with her parents and her two brothers, Niall and Finian.
Malvern had been founded in 1799, and it was called a town, but it wasn’t even a hamlet, not really. It was a scattering of houses, a couple of shops, a cemetery, a white church with a steeple, poised on top of the hill, and a recreational hall near the church. To Katie, the white