Last Summer in Louisbourg (5 page)

Disheartened that Cory was not around, Justine downed her Coke in a hurry. Andrea gulped a 7-Up and bought a chocolate bar, and they left. Justine was silent as they walked back. It wasn't until they were in the bathroom washing away the final traces of their brief acting career that her downcast mood began to improve.

“So, ah yew goin' to go ay-out with him…Calvin Jeff-ah-son Lee?” she asked, mocking his accent.

“Don't bug me. I dunno.”

“I just thought of something. When he sees you without your make-up and your fortress costume, he might think you're…too young or something.”

“I'm not too young,” Andrea almost shouted.

“Just kidding.”

“Besides, I can always make myself look older.”

“How?”

“I'll get a grey wig, and a walking cane, Aunt Roberta's orthopaedic shoes, and my mom's reading glasses and…”

“And he'll think he's going out on a date with his grandmother,” giggled Justine.

“Right.”

“I dare you.”

“Well, he has to ask first.”

Chapter Seven

There was a knock on the bedroom door. “Phone call for Andrea,” announced Roberta, who then clumped heavily back down the stairs. Andrea opened her eyes and looked at her alarm clock. It was 7:20 A.M. Why would he call her at this unromantic hour of the day? She got up, yanked her bathrobe over her pyjamas, dashed into the hall, and picked up the phone.

“Hi,” she said, hoping she sounded as if she had been awake for ages.

“Hi, sweetie,” came the voice of her mother.

“Mom!” she exclaimed. “It's awfully early.”

“It is. And it's even an hour earlier in Ontario, but I just felt like calling you before the day got started. I miss you, you know. Sometimes I worry about you. I know that's silly but…”

“I'm fine, Mom. Honestly. I've been meaning to write to you. It's just that I've been busy, very busy,” Andrea yawned. It was an effort to think of anything interesting to say when she had been awake for only a couple of minutes. For a while she simply listened as her mother chatted.

“How do you like your new job?”

“I like my job. I like my boss. I like my roommate. But the big news is that I got to play a part in a movie.”

“A movie?”

“Yes, a film is being shot in the Fortress of Louisbourg because the story is set way back in history and the fortress looks absolutely right for that. Justine, my roommate, was in it too. We were supposed to be servants. It wasn't a very big role.”

“How wonderful! When can I see it?”

“Not for quite a while. They're still working on it. And we're back to our real jobs,” Andrea explained, a bit wistfully.

“What's the weather like down there?” her mother asked. She always asked that.

Andrea hadn't even looked outdoors yet. She went to the top of the stairs, where she could see the sky through a small window. It was beginning to rain. “It's raining, Mom,” she replied dismally, not looking forward with any joy to the prospect of a damp day full of restless little kids and no likelihood of seeing Calvin.

“Too bad. The sun's shining here.”

“Anyway, Mom, I'd better go. I have to get dressed and then eat and get to work. I promise I'll write and tell you more about it, okay?”

“Okay. Take care. Stay out of trouble.”

“Mu-um. Stop worrying about me.”

“Brad sends his love.”

“Thanks for calling.”

“Bye.”

Andrea and Justine were gulping a fast breakfast when Jackie Cormier dropped by to offer them a lift to work. By then a steady rain was pelting down. When they reached the fortress parking area, the girls climbed out of the car, but Jackie remained inside, along with her five-year-old son, Kenzie.

“Aren't you coming with us?” asked Andrea.

“I'll be along later. I'm going to Sydney first to see my mother. She's in a nursing home there.”

“Oh. Too bad.”

“It is. She's got Alzheimer's disease. She has good days and bad days. It's hard for us sometimes, especially for Kenzie. He never knows whether his grandma will recognize him or not.”

Andrea thought about how sad that must be. Her own mother was still young and healthy enough to worry about her.

“Anyway,” Jackie continued, “I'll be back soon. And I'm looking forward to a relatively quiet day without that film crew in my hair. They always seem to need something—permission for this or that, or else they want to borrow things, or rearrange the furniture. Today they're spending the entire day filming in the chapel.”

“Is that so? Thanks for the ride, Jackie,” Andrea called as she swung the car door shut. She ran to catch up with Justine, who was already on board the bus.

The volunteer children soon began to arrive in plastic raincoats and wet sneakers. They donned their costumes and prepared for a day that promised indoor activities only. There would be many games of checkers. Some of the girls would work on their embroidery. There might even be a session of blowing bubbles through the stalks of angelica plants, a simple pastime that the colonial children had invented using the tough, celery-like stalks of a flowering plant that grew in their gardens.

However, Andrea had a plan of her own. Once the children were dressed in their costumes, she sprang it on them.

“Kids! I've got an idea for this morning. Instead of just hanging around and doing handicrafts, I thought it would be fun if we walked up to the chapel for a while.”

Justine stared at her in utter surprise. “In the rain? Are you crazy? Why on earth do you want to do that?”

“Because…the chapel is so beautiful. It's peaceful and it's…I can't explain…I was just in the mood for…”

“For praying?”

“Wouldn't you like to go? You're a Catholic, aren't you?”

“Yes, but we don't usually go to church on Tuesdays.”

“Well, it wouldn't hurt. I bet the kids would like it for a change. Okay, who wants to come with me to the chapel?” Andrea asked enthusiastically.

A chorus of agreement greeted the idea of going somewhere. Justine made no further comment. Possibly Andrea had a serious problem, she thought, or a terrible secret she couldn't discuss with anyone. Maybe she needed to sit in the chapel and meditate, although why she would want to do so with a dozen young children tagging along was something of a mystery. They wrapped the children in their capes and hats and soon they were all trudging through the drizzle towards the chapel.

When they reached the chapel, everyone except Andrea was surprised to see that the little church was anything but a haven of tranquility. Andrea managed to look appropriately amazed at the blaze of lights, the camera equipment, and the glamorous Deborah Cluett standing outside the door, dressed to kill, and—wouldn't you know it—smoking a cigarette.

“Hi there!” she greeted them, as if they were old friends. “This is my wedding day. Would you like to watch me get married?” she invited, as she butted her cigarette on the wet ground underneath a dainty white shoe. Her wedding dress was even more spectacular than the dress she had worn the previous day. It was the ivory colour of old lace, with an embroidered bodice and a long, full skirt that billowed out over a hooped petticoat. A delicate veil hung from the top of her wig to her smooth shoulders. Andrea would have given a lot to try on that costume. She wondered where it was kept when Deborah wasn't wearing it.

“Sure is a beautiful dress,” Andrea managed to say.

“Yes, but I wish it was more comfortable. It has a whalebone corset inside the waist, and I can hardly breathe it's so tight,” Deborah complained.

The bride returned to the chapel, while an entourage of children and Andrea and Justine stood and watched from the doorway. Deborah took her place in front of the altar, while her attentive audience stood silently against the back wall.

“Andrea,” whispered Justine sympathetically, “it's not very peaceful here right now. We can come back some other time.”

“It's fine. Really,” Andrea reassured her, then turned to the children. “Now not a peep out of anyone, understand? This is a wedding, and if we're very quiet we can watch them film it.”

In front of the altar stood a gaunt-looking actor dressed as a priest. He was being fussed over by Charlene, the make-up artist, who kept dabbing more powder on his bald head. Nearby Mr. Grundy, the director, was engaged in some sort of argument with a frowning Penny Goodman. Deborah, the bride, was sitting on a folding chair blotting her hairline with a paper towel and complaining about her itchy wig. The governor, who was about to marry her, was immaculately dressed in a royal blue brocade coat and those same clingy white tights. However, he looked as if he couldn't have cared less about the wedding. He was sitting on the top step of the pulpit, leafing through a sports magazine. Near him stood Calvin Jefferson Lee. He was looking in the opposite direction, as if something were about to happen in the farthest corner of the chapel.

Justine nudged Andrea and whispered, “They certainly didn't waste any time getting married, did they? They only fell in love on Friday and here they are getting married on Tuesday.”

“Honestly!” giggled Andrea. “They don't film scenes in the sequence that the audience sees them. In the story, there could have been a long time, maybe a whole year, between when they first met and when they finally got married. They're probably filming this wedding today because it's raining and they can't work outside.”

“I know that!” said Justine. “I was making a joke.”

Christopher Grundy heard the buzz of conversation and squinted past the bright lights to see who it was. Andrea was silent immediately and her face turned pink with embarrassment. Only a minute earlier she had been admonishing the children to keep quiet and now she and Justine were the ones to be caught making a noise.

“Oh, it's you.” He gave a slight wave. “Don't go away. I want to talk to you.”

Andrea and Justine exchanged an apprehensive look. Mr. Grundy continued talking to Penny until they had apparently resolved their problem. Then he spent another couple of minutes explaining something to the priest.

“I'm going to re-name Mr. Grundy ‘Mr. Grumpy,'” Andrea announced quietly. “That guy never smiles.”

“Grumpy Grundy,” echoed Justine with a smirk.

Just then he turned and strode to the doorway where Andrea and Justine were surrounded by a huddle of children in damp capes. “The very girls I wanted to see,” he greeted them. “It appears we have another role for you in this film sometime soon. Are you interested?”

Too surprised to speak, Andrea and Justine nodded their heads.

“Splendid. Let's see now…you are Anna and you…ah…are Christine,” he ventured.

“Andrea,” corrected Andrea.

“Justine,” corrected Justine.

“You'll be hearing from us. Penny's got your names written down somewhere,” he said, and promptly returned to the altar to have a few words with the restless bride.

“Gawd,” Deborah groaned loudly. “This damn dress is so uncomfortable. I can't wait to get it off.”

“Not till after the weddin', Deborah dahlin',” joked Calvin Jefferson Lee.

“From the top!” shouted the director imperiously. Calvin and the rest of the crew stepped off to one side. The bride and groom took their places beside each other. The priest opened his prayer book and read something in Latin. The filming began.

By the time the third take was completed, the youngest children were starting to shuffle their feet and whisper among themselves. Reluctantly, Andrea herded them all outdoors. It was better to leave now, before they were asked to leave. She was annoyed that Calvin hadn't even noticed she had been there. However, she had seen him. What's more, she was now going to play an additional role in the film. He wouldn't have any choice but to notice her next time.

“Isn't it wild?” giggled Justine as they all hurried along the road in the dwindling rain. “Maybe they really are in love.”

“Of course they're not,” Andrea insisted.

“Could be,” Justine persisted.

“I happen to know that Brock Rutherford is already married to someone else. They're just acting.”

“Actors get divorced any time they feel like it, and then they get married to somebody else. Everyone knows that,” Justine declared.

“Not all of them. And I'll tell you something, if I ever get married—and I'm not sure I'm going to—it will be for keeps,” Andrea said emphatically.

“Same here,” echoed Justine. “But if I were Deborah Cluett, I wouldn't want to marry that guy anyway. He's much too old for her.”

“You want to marry Cory up at the store.”

“Oh shut up.”

Chapter Eight

The following day was as bright as the previous one had been dreary. A brisk west wind banished the clouds and rain. A galaxy of waving wildflowers could be seen in the fields surrounding the walled town.

On days like this the sea was the colour of sapphires, a fathomless, deep blue, broken only by the bursting white spray where distant waves collided with offshore rocky islands. Even if there had been no Fortress of Louisbourg, Andrea imagined that it would have been a fulfilling experience for tourists just to stare at the ever-changing Atlantic Ocean. She never got tired of looking at it herself.

Andrea turned back towards the town, where a busload of visitors could be seen crossing the drawbridge by the Dauphin Gate. Suddenly she noticed Justine in front of Lartigue House. She was talking to a nice-looking guy, chatting to him in a way that suggested she knew him, that he was more than a visitor asking for directions. Did she have a crush on someone else? What about Cory? Andrea ambled slowly towards them, curious to get a better look at whoever he was. Eventually Justine saw her and waved enthusiastically.

“Andrea, come on over!”

Andrea approached nonchalantly, not wanting to appear too eager.

“Surprise, surprise. This is my brother Marc. Marc, this is Andrea.”

“H'lo there,” said Marc shyly, with a quick half-smile.

“Hi,” Andrea greeted him. Marc was a large, imposing-looking fellow, dressed in a new pair of jeans and an oversized, white T-shirt. He had short, dark hair, the same colour as Justine's. He had dimples when he smiled.

“So guess what?” asked Justine, without stopping long enough for Andrea to guess anything. “Marc drove up to Sydney airport to pick up a couple of exchange students from Quebec and it turned out they missed their connecting flight out of Halifax, so now they won't get here until this afternoon on another flight. Meanwhile, Marc had to hang around, so that's why he came over here.”

“Helps to pass the time,” explained Marc.

“Well, yeah, there's lots to see,” Andrea agreed.

“You gonna stay for lunch?” Justine wanted to know.

“Nah, I better be on my way. I can get a sandwich at the airport,” said Marc.

“Anyway, we should go too. Almost performance time. I'll see you in a few weeks,” concluded Justine.

“See ya,” said Marc, and then, as he walked away, he turned and added, “Nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Andrea smiled.

Every morning at 11:30 when the weather was fine the children performed for fortress visitors. A trio of boys played tunes on a recorder, a drum, and a tambourine, while a circle of girls danced a traditional French step vaguely similar to the square dancing of today. Visitors loved it. They always gathered around to watch and to take lots of photographs.

One sunny morning it dawned on Andrea that this little performance hadn't been invented for tourists. This had been the reality in the days before people had television or videos or amplified music. In this distant outpost people had had to rely on themselves for entertainment. It occurred to her that little children would have enjoyed this uncomplicated dance and simple music the way they enjoyed taped music and movies today. Was it possible they could have enjoyed it more? In this fortress community the performers and the audience would have been acquainted with one another. If anyone had a special talent, then everyone else would have known about it. No one would have had to wait a lifetime to be discovered.

“You want to know something?” Andrea confided to Justine as they observed the children. “I once thought about becoming a video star—well, maybe not a star exactly, but doing some professional acting or singing.”

“You did? So did I,” admitted Justine.

“I was in a play at school,” Andrea reminisced. “It was called
Lady Windermere's Fan
. It was a lot of work, but I didn't mind because I enjoyed doing it. There were four performances, and after the last one there was a terrific party. I didn't get to bed until two o'clock in the morning.”

“I was in a play at school too. It was a drama to teach kids to take care of their teeth. I played the part of the toothbrush,” Justine said proudly.

Andrea made no comment. That didn't sound like a very interesting part, pretending to be a toothbrush.

“The trouble is my mom doesn't think that acting is a good career choice. She says there aren't that many jobs around. So I thought about it for a while and decided I'd be an airline flight attendant. I love to travel.”

“I changed my plans too,” Justine agreed. “What I really like best in the world is animals. So I've decided to become a veterinarian.”

“I love animals too. I wish I had a dog. I might be getting one in the fall.”

“We've got a dog. And three cats. And seven cows. And twenty-two hens. And a pig,” counted Justine.

“You're lucky. I wish we had room for lots and lots of animals.”

“Do you want to come home with me sometime? You could see our dog and meet everyone. In August there's going to be a big party on my birthday. And my twin sister's birthday too, of course.”

“Sure. I'd like that,” said Andrea enthusiastically.

“We can catch the bus from Sydney. It only takes about an hour from there.”

The children completed their little show and the tourists clapped enthusiastically before dispersing to see other things. Andrea glanced along the quay and her heart suddenly skipped a beat. Calvin Jefferson Lee was striding towards them, his long hair blowing in the wind.

“Found you at last,” he said breathlessly to Andrea, as if he had been looking for her all his life.

“We haven't exactly been hiding,” Justine remarked quickly.

“Ah been lookin' for Andrea Baxter all over this burg, and he-ah she is, ta-dum!”

A shiver ran down Andrea's spine. “What's up?” she asked as calmly as if Calvin searching for her was an everyday occurrence.

“Penny Goodman wants to see you. Over on the parade square.”

“Now?”

“Right now.”

“Just me?”

“Just you.”

So Calvin was only the messenger.

“It's almost lunchtime,” Andrea protested. “We have to supervise.”

“You'd better go. I'll watch the kids till you get back,” Justine volunteered, but without a smile.

Andrea had to walk faster than usual to keep up with Calvin, who charged through the crowds with a long, loping stride. He was a lot taller than she was.

For a time he didn't say a word. Finally he remarked, “I s'pose you got a boyfriend back home?”

Andrea wasn't sure how to reply. Would he be impressed if she said she did have one? Would he think there was something wrong with her if she didn't? She decided the truth was the best choice.

“Not at the moment.”

“A purty gal like you and you haven't got a guy!” said Calvin in mock horror. “Why, ah might have a chance after all.”

“Who knows?” said Andrea as casually as she could, tossing her head in a way she hoped would tell him she wasn't tripping over her shoelaces to go out with him.

When they reached the main intersection of the town, Calvin turned the corner to the left.

“Ah'm off to see a man about a hoss,” he chuckled.

What did he mean? Was that some kind of code meaning he had to go to the bathroom, or was he…

“We gotta hire a pony from the stable for tomorrow's shootin'. S'long, dahlin'.” Andrea continued up the road by herself. When she reached the parade square, she couldn't see Penny Goodman anywhere. The place was deserted except for Grumpy Grundy way down at the far end. He waved and beckoned her to join him.

“Hello there, Angela. Just the girl I wanted to see!”

“It's Andrea.”

“Of course it is. I need a word with you without your friend…what's-her-name.”

“Justine.”

“Right. I'll be brief. It now appears that we have a more expanded role coming up. The lady's maid is going to be somewhat more significant to the plot. We've revised the script, and we have a scene where the maidservant will be transporting an important secret message. It calls for dramatic looks—bewilderment, fear, relief—the sort of thing that you do rather well, if I may say so. Do you think you could handle this role?”

Andrea swallowed and thought about it for two seconds. “I think so.”

“Sorry we don't have another role for your friend. Josephine's quite good, but—”

“Justine.”

“You have what we're looking for.”

His cellular phone rang, and he reached into his briefcase to retrieve it. It was a call from Penny Goodman, who was supervising a scene in the garden behind the engineer's house. “Yes, Penny. Yes, she's right here and we've discussed the part. I believe she intends to do it.” He looked Andrea in the eye and nodded his head, asking for confirmation. Andrea nodded back.

“A done deal then,” he told Penny, and continued to talk to her about production details. After a while he perched the phone on his shoulder and said, “Thank you for coming by, Amanda. We'll be in touch.”

“I'm Andrea.”

“So you are.”

When the day's work was over, Andrea and Justine caught the bus back to town. As usual they walked to Vivian's store for some pop. It gave them something to do before supper and, of course, Justine had a chance to see Cory—if he happened to be on duty that day. She never knew for sure.

“I phoned home,” said Justine, “and my brother Marc said he'd come up and get us in the car when we get our days off in August. That way we won't have to wait around for the bus.”

“Sounds great,” Andrea agreed.

“And I was thinking. I might even invite one or two kids from around here. It's my birthday, after all.”

“Cory. Cory. Cory,” teased Andrea.

Justine blushed. “Shut up,” she muttered, and changed the subject. “So what did Penny want? Do we have to do that stupid scene over again?”

“No, we don't. Actually, Penny wasn't there. Just Grumpy.”

“Oh, him. What did he have to say?”

“Nothing really…except there's another scene to do.”

“Ohhh. Gimme a break,” groaned Justine. “All those hot lights. All that waiting around. All that make-up. I can't STAND it,” she proclaimed in mock dismay, holding the back of her hand to her forehead and looking up towards the sky.

“Actually…as it happens…this time there's only one part…for one servant…for me,” Andrea explained haltingly.

“Oh,” said Justine frostily, and didn't utter another word until they arrived at Vivian's store. Luckily Cory was behind the counter and that thawed Justine's icy mood. The girls were the only customers, so there was time to chat. And, as it turned out, there was a lot to talk about. The big news was that there had been a robbery at a convenience store in the town of Dominion, not far away. Cory had just heard all about it from the guy who drove the bread-delivery truck.

“The police figure the man was mainly after cigarettes,” he explained earnestly. “He took nineteen cartons of them and also stole twenty-five videos, along with all the money in the cash drawer.”

“How did he get in?” Andrea wanted to know.

“They think that maybe he hid, that he was inside the building at closing time. The fellow on duty that night had to step outside because there's a gas pump out in front. A couple of cars came by for gas just before he closed the store. Somebody could have walked in and hidden in a cupboard maybe.”

“Scary,” commented Justine, sipping her Coke very, very slowly.

Another customer came in, and Cory got busy slicing baloney, cutting a chunk of cheese, and signing out a video.

“We'd better go,” Andrea suggested.

“How's everything up at the fortress?” enquired Cory as they headed for the door.

“Come and see for yourself,” Justine suggested coyly.

“I might,” agreed Cory with a hint of a smile.

As they walked back, Justine became quiet again. The two girls ate their supper in silence and after that Justine slumped in a chair in front of the television, watching a re-run of
North of 60
. Andrea went upstairs and washed her hair. Justine was obviously hurt that she hadn't been asked to play another role in the film and Andrea had. It wasn't my fault, Andrea reasoned. I wasn't the person who made that decision. Why does she have to take it out on me with her big sulk?

When they were getting ready for bed, Justine announced importantly, “As soon as I finish grade twelve I'm going to apply.”

“Apply what?”

“Apply to the University of Prince Edward Island, to the veterinary college there.”

“Terrific,” Andrea said enthusiastically, and listened patiently as Justine mentioned the high marks she always got in science and talked about her interest in farm animals. At least Justine was speaking to her.