Love in Another Town Read Free Page B

stark. Bleak almost. Certainly sombre, very eye-catching as well. I think the set has to be a little offbeat, not the usual thing. Let’s take the audience by surprise.’ Maggie raised a brow. ‘Don’t you agree?’
    Samantha grinned at her. ‘I sure do and I knew you’d catch the bug, once I got that clever little brain of yours working. You’re so talented, Maggie, and very imaginative, and I’m certain you’ll come up with exactly the right thing.’
    â€˜I hope so, I’d hate to let you down –’ She broke off, looking thoughtful, then added, ‘You know, I think I’ll drive into New York later this week, pick up some books on theatrical design and stage sets.’
    â€˜Yes, do that. No, wait a minute, there’s no need to go into Manhattan. Try the bookstore in Washington and the one in Kent. I know they’re both well stocked. They have everything from soup to nuts.’
    Maggie laughed, as always amused by her friend’s colourful expressions, as she had been since their college days.
    The two women stood centre stage, discussing ideas for the backdrop and the sets for a few minutes longer. At one moment Maggie went and got her notebook, began to sketch rapidly, all the time listening to Samantha and nodding.
    Both women were forty-three and good-looking, but they were strikingly different in appearance and personality.
    Samantha Matthews was of medium height and slim, with prematurely silver hair cut short with a fringe. The silver colour did not seem at all ageing since she had a youthfully pretty face and a fresh complexion. Her large eyes, set widely apart, were dark brown and full of soul.
    Energetic, enthusiastic and gregarious, she had an outgoing personality and a friendly nature. Somewhat given to taking control, she liked to be in charge. Nonetheless, she was kind, good hearted and easy to get along with.
    In contrast, Maggie Sorrell was tall, willowy, with the brightest of light blue eyes that were, at times, highly appraising. Her thick mane of chestnut hair was shot through with auburn lights and she wore it brushed back and falling to her shoulders. Although her face was a little angular and arresting rather than pretty, she was attractive and appealing in her looks.
    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 slightlydifferent. 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.
    â€˜Oh, it’s only Tom Cruise,’ Samantha said immediately, a look of pleasure settling on her face. She waved with a certain eagerness