Free Last Summer in Louisbourg by Clare Mowat Page A

that afternoon, but she knew she had to. It was a good thing the script didn’t call for smiles or laughter. She could never have managed that, not today. In her next scene, during which she was still fleeing across town with her secret message, she had to portray fear, to look as if she thought she was being pursued by someone dangerous. She had spent a lot of time in front of the bathroom mirror every night for two weeks past, practising expressions of fear, anxiety, and exhaustion. She had wisely locked the bathroom door in case Justine barged in and observed what she was doing.
    By the middle of the afternoon it wasn’t a challenge to look exhausted. Eventually she was rescued by the weather. This particular scene had to be filmed in fog. There had been lots of that in the morning, but by three o’clock the wind had shifted and, to the delight of everyone except Christopher Grundy, the sun began to shine. Completion of the scene was postponed until the next foggy day.
    Andrea returned to her regular job for the rest of the afternoon. Jackie was generous in letting her take part in the film, but Andrea never imagined that it would occupy so much time. Justine had taken most of the children for a walk among the ruins beyond the fortress, so Andrea didn’t have much to do. She used the time to tidy the costume cupboard and then she caught an early bus to town. She was relieved to get back ahead of Justine so she could wash off every trace of the theatrical make-up before her roommate came home. When Justine did return she was still aloof, but Andrea was determined not to let it get to her. Together they walked to the store in gloomy silence while Andrea prayed silently that Cory would be on duty when they got there.
    And he was. However, there were five other customers in the store, so he was kept busy ringing up sales, stuffing things into plastic bags, checking out videos, and selling lottery tickets. One by one the customers left, all except one fellow who slouched against the pop cooler while he read a magazine from the rack.
    Andrea finished her 7-Up and tossed the can into the garbage pail. Justine, who could sip a Coke more slowly than anyone else in the world, stopped reading the community notices on the bulletin board and meandered back towards the counter where Cory was finally alone, arranging a stack of videos on a shelf.
    Andrea thoughtfully kept her distance. She knew what it meant to Justine to have a private chat with Cory, even though her moody friend always insisted she didn’t give a hoot. She did so. Andrea walked over to the magazine rack, selected a copy of
Canadian Living
, and pretended to be reading an article describing how to dry wildflowers, a subject that didn’t interest her at all. She was really listening to Justine talking to Cory, telling him something that one of the tourists had said to her that day.
    â€œâ€¦no kidding. That’s what he asked. He wanted to know why didn’t they build this fortress over near the Bras d’Or lakes instead of here, because there isn’t as much fog over there. Also—get this—he said it would have been handier to the TransCanada Highway as well.”
    â€œJeez,” Cory guffawed. “So what did you say?”
    â€œI told him there was no highway in 1717, the year that the king of France decided to build here. I mean, they hadn’t even invented cars then. People travelled in ships. Louisbourg has an awesome harbour. I pointed to it, but the fog was so thick this morning we couldn’t see it.”
    â€œSome people!” Cory snorted.
    â€œDumb de-dumb dumb,” trilled Justine.
    Andrea turned to put the magazine back on the rack. She’d learned everything she needed to know about dried flower arrangements. She headed back to the counter, paid Cory for her pop, then tactfully suggested to Justine that they would miss their supper if they didn’t head back.
    Justine swallowed the