fling open the door and I was suddenly terrified of being caught standing on the other side. She couldn’t discover me listening to their conversation. For a split second, Mum hovered with her hand on the door handle and gave a dismissive shrug. ‘If that’s what you want …’
Sensing my knees were about to crumble, I quickly crouched down at the side of the grandfather clock and held my breath. Her voice trailed off as she flounced past me and disappeared up the stairs. She didn’t spot me, much to my relief.
Forcing myself to stand up, I stole a quick look into the living room before racing back through the kitchen and thrusting my feet back inside my boots. I ran and ran over the fields until I flung my hands around Billy’s neck, who nuzzled my pockets looking for carrots.
I thought back to Grandie who had been slumped down in his chair. He’d raked his hand through his hair before doing something I’d never seen him do before: he cried.
I’d no idea what he and Mum were arguing about but just twenty-four hours later I was strapped into the back of a taxi, tightly hugging my teddy bear. Of course, I’d asked where we were going but Mum wasn’t forthcoming with any answers. ‘Stop asking questions Alice, you’ll see when we get there,’ was all she offered me.
Mum’s best friend, Connie, had clutched on to her arms at the bottom of the steps to the farmhouse. ‘I don’t understand why you’re leaving. Where are you going? What’s happened?’ The barrage of questions tripped off her tongue, but Mum never answered any of them. In a trance-like state Mum muttered something then swiftly pressed a kiss on to Connie’s cheek before hugging her and clambering into the passenger seat of the taxi. She never even gave as much as a fleeting glance backwards.
I had no idea where we were going or why. All I knew was I had this wretched, nauseous pain in the pit of my stomach. Feeling scared, I snuggled my teddy bear and blinked back the tears. As the taxi pulled away from Honeysuckle Farm, I looked up and took a last glance towards the farmhouse. There was Grandie, standing in the bedroom window. He placed a hand on the pane of glass in front of him and I did the same. His tearful, saddened eyes never left mine but as the taxi reached the ornate black iron gates at the end of the drive he got smaller and smaller, before he finally disappeared out of sight, and the pain twisted in my heart.
Little did I know that this would be last time I saw Grandie for thirteen years.
New York City, thirteen years later …
Hearing a knock on the door, I knew immediately it would be Molly, you could set your watch by her. Molly Gray had been my best friend for the last three years. She was a proper city girl, born and bred in New York and living in a second-floor apartment near the corner of 57th Street and 9th Avenue on the west side of town. I, on the other hand, had arrived thirteen years ago as a terrified and bewildered child, and I had always felt I struggled to fit in. I was now living in a dingy flat in a less salubrious area of Manhattan, a place full of unfamiliar sounds and smells and where everything and everyone were constantly on the move. It was a million miles away from the country village upbringing I’d had, and often, I’d long to hear the familiar sounds of a cockerel or the bleat of a lamb. Occasionally I’d dream that I could freeze the constant motion and walk the streets silently, at my own pace.
Every Sunday morning, come rain or shine, Molly would power her legs around Central Park for a good hour or so before grabbing a coffee and a catch-up at mine when she’d finished.
‘The door’s open,’ I shouted, ‘I’m in the kitchen.’
Molly soon appeared in the doorway, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks aglow.
‘Morning,’ she panted, switching off the latest gadget that was measuring her performance and heart rate. ‘Not a bad time,’ she muttered to herself.
Her slender body was poured into the tightest, most flamboyant running gear you’d ever set eyes on and an abundance of rust-coloured hair was escaping her pony-tail as she hooked it behind her ears.
‘This was sticking out of your mail box,’ she said, placing the flyer down on the table in front of me before slumping on to the chair. ‘That’s right up your street,’ she said, sneakily pinching a piece of buttered toast from my plate then grinning at me.
Auditions for Wicked
The Majestic Theatre
Broadway, New York City
‘What, are you saying I’m a witch?’ I smiled up at her, hugging my third mug of coffee of the morning.
‘A good witch,’ she chuckled, ‘but this morning looking more like one of those English eighties rock stars. What’s with the make-up thing?’ she waggled her finger towards my face before standing up and sliding her Nike-swathed feet over the brown tatty lino that had seen better days towards the coffee pot.
‘It wasn’t the best night I’ve ever had, let’s put it that way,’ I answered, placing my mug on the table and looking up at Molly.
‘I’ll pour us both a coffee and you can tell me all about it. It can’t be that bad.’ Her tone was sympathetic.
‘Sorry, but there’s no more coffee, I’ve run out … again.’
Molly peered at the coffee pot then back to me, her expression a mix of surprise and sympathy, but she had no idea how difficult things really were. I immediately felt guilty for not sharing my woes with her, but the last thing I wanted was pity.
‘You can have this one,’ I offered, sliding the mug over the table towards her.
‘It’s okay, you look like you need it more than me. I’ll grab a water from the faucet.’
‘I don’t get paid until tomorrow.’ I sighed, ‘But there’s a couple of slices of bread left if you fancy some more toast.’
Molly gave me an inquisitive stare before pulling open the door to the refrigerator. Every shelf was bare except for a mouldy block of cheese wedged right at the back.
‘What are you planning on eating today?’
I shrugged, feeling totally helpless. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead yet. I didn’t want to think that far ahead.
‘Dunno, I’ll probably end up with a couple of Twinkies,’ I replied partly in jest, but deep down I knew if things carried on the way they were this could become reality.
‘Have things really got that bad?’ Molly’s tone was now a little more serious.
‘Oh Molly, I just can’t make ends meet, no matter how hard I try,’ I answered, not meeting her gaze. ‘It’s really difficult to find work, with a decent wage, working decent hours. Every job I go for has already been filled or the salary only just about covers my rent, leaving nothing for anything else. I don’t want to be working dead-end jobs; I want a career, I want to work in the area I’m trained for, but I just don’t get past the auditions. Something has got to give. I can’t carry on like this.’
Molly shut the refrigerator door before squeezing my hand, but stopped short of telling me it was going to be all right. It wasn’t. In fact, it hadn’t been all right for the last few years, but lately things had been slipping further out of my control and I was unable to hide it any more. There was a pile of unpaid bills sitting on the table in front of me and to make matters worse, I was already a month behind with my rent.
‘Let me help you.’
I didn’t realise I was holding back the tears, but I clearly was, as her kind gesture soon had them flooding down my cheeks.
I shook my head, ‘Thank you, that’s a kind offer but no, you have your own bills to pay. This is my problem, not yours.’
‘Don’t be crazy Alice, you’re my friend, my best friend. I can stretch to some