Love in Another Town. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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Maggie had a fluidity and a gracefulness when she moved and she appeared to take things at a more leisurely pace. But she had as much energy and vitality as Samantha. Very simply, her style was slightly different. It was calm, controlled, and she was the quieter and more reserved of the two. And yet she was a vibrant woman, full of life and optimism.
Even in their style of dressing they were true to themselves. Tonight Samantha wore what she termed her uniform: well-tailored blue jeans, a white cotton shirt, a black gabardine blazer with brass buttons, and highly polished black oxfords with white socks.
Maggie, who tended to be less tailored, was dressed in a full, three-quarter length skirt made of brown suede, matching suede boots, a cream silk shirt and a brown cashmere stole flung over her shoulders.
Both women had a casual style about them which reflected an understanding of clothes and what suited them; it also bespoke their privileged backgrounds.
Best friends since college days, they had remained close even though they had been separated by thousands of miles for many years. They had managed to meet quite frequently, at least twice a year, and they had spoken to each other on the phone every week for as long as they could remember. Maggie had moved to Connecticut eight months ago, after a dreadful upheaval in her life, and they had become inseparable again.
The banging of a door at the back of the theatre startled both women, made them jump. Automatically they swung around, peering into the dimly lit auditorium.
‘Oh, it’s only Tom Cruise,’ Samantha said immediately, a look of pleasure settling on her face. She waved with a certain eagerness to the man walking down the aisle towards the proscenium.
‘Tom Cruise,’ Maggie hissed, grasping Samantha’s arm, following the direction of her gaze. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, for God’s sake! Has he moved here? Is he taking an interest in the theatre group? Oh my God, I hope he’s not slumming, doing a part in the play just for kicks. I’ll never be able to design the sets! Not with a real pro around.’
Samantha burst out laughing. She said, in a low voice, ‘As far as I know, Mr Cruise is still living in Westport. The guy walking towards us could be him though, and that’s why I call him Tom Cruise.’
Maggie let go of Samantha’s arm as the young man walked across the stage to join them.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said to Samantha, stretching out his hand, shaking hers.
‘No problem,’ Samantha answered. ‘Come and meet my friend. Maggie, this is Jake Cantrell. Jake, this is Margaret Anne Sorrell, usually known as Maggie. She’s an interior designer and will be designing our sets. Maggie, Jake’s a genius with lighting and special effects. I hope he’s going to become part of our little group and work with us. We certainly need a lighting expert of his calibre.’
Jake gave Samantha a small smile that hinted of shyness and then turned to Maggie. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ he said politely and offered her his hand.
Maggie took it. His hand was cool, his grasp firm. ‘I’m happy to meet you too,’ she murmured.
They stood staring at each other.
Maggie thought how extremely good-looking he was, realizing at once that he was completely unaware that he was. He’s a troubled man, she thought, recognizing the sadness in his eyes.
Jake was thinking that he’d never met a woman like this in his life, so beautifully groomed and well put together. He was suddenly awed by this woman who was looking at him so thoughtfully through her cool, intelligent eyes.
THE THREE OF THEM sat down at the table on the stage and Samantha handed Jake a copy of the play.
‘Thanks,’ he said, glancing at it, then looking up at her as she continued, ‘As you can see we’re doing The Crucible, and I think you should read it as soon as possible.’ She flashed him a vivid smile, and added, ‘Basically, the meeting tonight is for us to become acquainted. I was hoping the three of us could get together again later this week, maybe on Friday or Saturday, to have our first detailed discussion about the scenery and the lighting. By then you’ll have a better understanding of what’s required.’
‘I know the play,’ Jake replied, giving her a pointed look. ‘And very well. From high school. I also saw a revival of it a few years ago. I’ve always liked Arthur Miller.’
If Samantha was surprised to hear this she certainly disguised it. Merely nodding, she murmured, ‘That’s great. Obviously I’m delighted you know the play; it’ll save us a lot of time in the long run.’
‘I’ve never done any stage work before, as I told you when you phoned,’ Jake said. ‘But what’s required for this play in particular is real mood, that I do know. All stage lighting should underscore the meaning of the drama, the scenes being acted, and create an atmosphere. In The Crucible it should be one of … mystery. Deep mystery, I think. And revelation … impending revelation. It’s important to introduce a sense of time as well as place. In this instance, Salem, Massachusetts in the seventeenth century. Candles are going to be important, as are special effects. It’s necessary to simulate dawn and night-time. I remember a night-time scene in the wood. You’ll need interesting combinations of light and shadow–’ He stopped, wondering if he’d said too much – even worse, made a fool of himself.
Jake sat back in his chair and looked at the women. They were both staring at him intently. He felt himself flush and experienced a surge of acute embarrassment.
Maggie, who had been observing him closely and giving him her entire attention, sensed that he was suddenly feeling uncomfortable, although she wasn’t sure why. But wishing to put him at ease, she said swiftly, ‘You’ve hit it right on the mark, Jake. I’m fairly familiar with the play myself, but I know the scenery is going to be tough for me to do. This is my first stab at theatrical design. Like you I’m a bit of a novice. Maybe we’ll be able to help each other as we go along.’
Smiling, Maggie finished, ‘Samantha has a good point about meeting again later in the week, once we’ve both had a chance to refresh our memories about the play. I’m available either Friday or Saturday.’ She glanced at Samantha and then back at him. ‘Which day do you both prefer?’
‘Saturday,’ Samantha answered.
Jake was silent. An unfamiliar discomfort had settled over him. They were taking it for granted he was going to get involved with their drama group, but he still wasn’t sure that he would. Or whether he even wanted to. He wondered if he’d said too much a moment ago, if he had led them to believe he intended to participate.
‘Would Friday be better for you, Jake?’ Maggie asked.
He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so. I – ’ He cut himself off abruptly, suddenly wary of making any kind of commitment to them. It might take up too much of his time; after all, he did have a business to run these days. Also, he was beginning to feel a bit