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Back The Actresses Save as PDF
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. THE ACTRESSES
  3. About The Actresses
  4. Contents
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. About Barbara Ewing
  49. Also by Barbara Ewing
  50. An Invitation from the Publisher
  51. Copyright

But the party was, in a way, over. The shadows lengthened up across the grass from the river, the women in their pretty summer dresses shivered a little, looked for jackets. One by one people came up to Pauline and Viola standing together: to say thank you, to say how much they’d enjoyed themselves – the food, the wine, the company. Anthony appeared and smiled goodbye too, got into conversation with a plump casting director; his agent joined them, they huddled together, planning something.

Molly and Banjo came up to Pauline and Viola; Molly and Pauline were not actresses for nothing, smiled goodbye to each other politely and Pauline thanked Banjo for intervening in the fight.

‘How did you stop that son of mine so – simply?’ asked Pauline curiously.

‘I got no aggression in me man,’ said Banjo, parodying himself, and then, quite simply, ‘I think people can feel it.’ Molly’s eyes suddenly filled with tears and she turned away to Frances and Harry for a moment, hugged Michael gently who stood so pale on the grass beside her.

And then she quickly turned back to Pauline, the best friend of her youth. She didn’t kiss her but she put her hand urgently on Pauline’s arm. ‘Pauly, Pauly listen, please. It wasn’t what you think, please.’

Banjo had leaned over to kiss Viola on the cheek, so no one saw Pauline O’Brien turn sharply away from Molly McKenzie, violently pushing the hand away from her arm.

12

Juliet Lyall flew to Los Angeles that Sunday and so missed the Bonhams’ garden party; missed seeing Harry Donaldson who she was trying so hard to contact but who hadn’t returned her calls; missed seeing Anthony Bonham’s beautiful son Benedict take a punch at his father; and missed seeing Iona Spring, the third ex-wife of Terence Blue the famous film star. Or as she and Harry Donaldson knew so well, Iona Spring, the fourth ex-wife of Terence Blue the famous film star. Missed also the sun setting over the Thames and the long shadows across the garden.

Juliet stared out of the plane window, waved the hostess and the champagne away.

Of course she could do it.

That same flicker of doubt lay there, somewhere at the back of her mind.

About the time they flew over the white-capped vista of Alaska she fell uneasily asleep, the latest copy of Vogue falling from her lap; woke as dusk fell, saw the horizon catch fire, a wild red panorama, unimaginable colour unless you’d seen it: there, above the world. The world was hers. She must not lose what she had now.