Last Summer in Louisbourg by Clare Mowat Read Free Book Online Page A

Andrea asked.
    They stood watching him while he adjusted a light reflector. Justine considered the matter for a minute. “Sort of. Not exactly. I don’t like his hair.”
    â€œLet’s move it!” ordered Penny. She positioned the two girls in the doorway while she gave instructions about the way they were to look as they spied on the governor and his fiancée. She coached them on the expressions they should wear when they glanced at one another with their shared secret.
    â€œYou’re frightened by what you’ve heard and seen,” she emphasized. “Remember, you are servants. No status. No job security. If you get caught listening in on the boss, it’s…” she demonstrated by pulling her index finger across her throat as if it was a knife. “So you’re curious, but you’re also very nervous. Got it?”
    The girls nodded, already looking nervous.
    Penny stepped off to one side. The governor and his lady returned to their proper places, without the cigarette, the eyeglasses, or the newspaper.
    â€œMy heart is yours, my own sweet love.”
    â€œI pledge you mine.”
    â€œThen shall we rendezvous this very night?”
    â€œOh yes, my dearest.”
    â€œOh, yuck,” thought Andrea to herself. Did people ever really say this kind of thing to one another? Even if it was the eighteenth century it still sounded absurd. She would have laughed out loud except that the cameras were now pointing in her direction. She acted surprised. She acted alarmed. She exchanged a knowing look with Justine before the two of them nervously inched their way back behind the drapery.
    â€œCut!” called the director. “That’s the right idea. Now, next time it would be better if you, ah…Anita…” He pointed to Andrea. He had forgotten her name. “Could you stand just a little to the left of the door? And you…ah…” He pointed at Justine and didn’t even attempt her name. “Ah…you could look a bit less startled. Not quite so much expression.”
    They did the scene again. And again and again. In the end it took over an hour for them to create the precise mood the director wanted. By the time they were finished Andrea was weary and hot and Justine was in an irritable mood. Their heavy clothes were damp and their make-up felt sticky as they endured the heat from the lights. They were relieved when they were finally thanked and told they could leave.
    â€œY’all don’t have to hurry away now,” suggested Calvin, smiling at Andrea as he gathered up an electric cable.
    â€œWe want to get out of our costumes. We’re awfully hot,” Andrea complained.
    â€œThen we can get some pop,” added Justine.
    â€œThat’s a mighty fine idea,” Calvin agreed. “Ah was wonderin’ where a fella goes aroun’ he-ah for refreshment. Maybe ah could buy you a Pepsi. Maybe ah’ll call you up sometime.”
    Andrea tried not to look surprised. Was this guy asking both of them to go out with him? Or just one? Which one?
    â€œâ€™Low me to introduce mahself. Calvin ]efferson Lee. Ah’m the gaffer. New to these parts. Come from Alabama.”
    â€œOh,” remarked Justine, who couldn’t think of anything to say. She had never met anyone from Alabama before. Nor had Andrea.
    â€œSure…we could go out…sometime,” replied Andrea uncertainly.
    â€œAnd you are Miss Andrea…?”
    Andrea suppressed a giggle. “Miss,” for heaven’s sake. It was almost as old-fashioned as the governor’s dialogue. “Baxter,” she finally managed. “Andrea Baxter.”
    â€œI’m Justine Marchand,” Justine announced. “We’d better go now. We room together at the Northeast Bed and Breakfast.”
    When they were aboard the bus heading back to town, Andrea asked her roommate, “Think I should go out with him?”
    â€œUp to