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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

‘Molly darling don’t keep asking me questions,’ he said peevishly. ‘Just open the champagne.’ He opened his eyes just for a moment. ‘I like your hair,’ he said and then closed them again.

And suddenly Molly McKenzie began to laugh. She leant against the open door and laughed and laughed till tears were running down her cheeks. She stared down at Anthony’s pained face, at the red roses lying everywhere, at the champagne bottles rolled into corners and she laughed. And she suddenly thought, how odd: I remind myself of Pauline, this is how she laughed when she was young. And for the shortest moment, almost subconsciously, a thought flashed into her mind, I’ll always miss her, and then it was gone.

Anthony, observing out of half-closed eyes that she wasn’t going to be responsible for the alcohol, pulled himself up to a sitting position, extracted some battered holly-decorated paper cups from his coat pocket, reached for the champagne. And then as he expertly opened the first bottle he began to laugh too.

‘God,’ he said, laughing and pouring the fizzing, spilling liquid, ‘I’m glad you’re here Moll, though I would even have come to Hastings to get you if I had to, Portia was making a vegetarian Christmas dinner.’

Molly slid down the wall on to her floor, still laughing, still holding a scrubbing brush in one hand. Anthony handed her a drink.

‘I guess we deserve each other for Christmas,’ she said at last, wiping away tears with the back of her hand, catching her hair with the scrubbing brush.

‘Of course we do,’ said Anthony, misunderstanding, ‘we’ve deserved each other for years, we deserve to be together after all we’ve been through. In a palazzo.’

But she shook her head, although she was laughing still.

A neighbour, walking his dog despite the weather, passed the two of them, laughing on the floor in the doorway. Surrounded by red roses they leant back against the wall and laughed together, shoulders touching now, drinking champagne out of squashed holly-covered paper cups as church bells pealed out incoherently all over the icy city.

41

And on Christmas Day Pauline O’Brien, actress, lay by the blue Pacific Ocean.

She had never seen such blue sea in her life and she was wearing a bright blue sundress that had caught her eye at Honolulu airport, blue like the water, like no colour she’d ever worn before. Anyone in the distance walking towards her would have thought a piece of the sea lay there in the white sand.