A Snowfall of Silver - Laura Wood Page 0,2
commit to these things, otherwise what’s the point in doing them at all?”
“My thoughts exactly!” We share a conspirator’s look, and just like that, it feels as though we’ve known each other for ever. It’s a nice feeling, as if I am sitting with a friend or a member of the family, someone familiar and worn in like a particularly cosy jumper.
“So, you’re running away to London?” Kit asks. “Hopefully not to actually live as Oliver Twist?”
“No,” I reply, a little regretfully – joining a gang of pickpockets really would be an adventure. “I’m going to stay with my sister, Lou. One of my sisters, I should say. I have three of them, and four brothers.”
Kit doesn’t say any of the mundane things that people like to say about us being a big family. To be fair, eight children could be considered rather over egging the pudding. Pa sometimes says that there might have been more of us if it hadn’t been for the war keeping him and Midge apart for a time, and that we should be thankful for small mercies. It’s a sad sort of joke, but quite a good one given the state of chaos that exists in our little farmhouse.
My oldest sister, Alice, is married now, with a little girl of her own, and the next oldest, Lou, is living in London; but that still leaves six of us at home. At just turned eighteen, I have been promoted to head of the siblings. After me comes Tom, who is thirteen, then the triplets, Joe, Max and Davy, who are five, and Anthea-the-baby who is two now but may well be Anthea-the-baby for her whole life.
“That’s all right, then,” Kit says. “At least you’ll have someone to show you around.”
“It will only be for a very little while,” I add quickly, lest he thinks my adventure diminished. “Until I get my first part. I’m going to be an actress, you see.”
Again, Kit nods in easy acceptance. “On the stage?”
“Yes,” I say, leaning forward, feeling the pulse of excitement that comes with those words. On the stage.
“I really do understand. How funny that we’d end up travelling together. I want to be a playwright, myself.”
“Do you?” I ask, eyeing him with interest.
“Yes. Always have done. I did my own running away to London a couple of years ago.”
“And?” I ask, breathless. “What is it like?”
He shrugs one shoulder and gives a wry half-smile. “Hard, heartbreaking … wonderful. I haven’t had any of my plays staged or anything like that. I’ve been working stagehand jobs, trying to learn what I can, and working on my own script in my spare time. It’s…” He breaks off, as though trying to put it into words is too difficult. “Well, there’s nothing like it really.”
I sigh. Hard, heartbreaking, wonderful. And all out there just waiting for me. “What were you doing in Taunton?”
“My aunt lives there, I was visiting. I’m just about to go on tour with the company I’ve been working for, so it’s the last chance for a while.” He flushes slightly. “It’s my first opportunity at stage managing, actually. The man who was going to be doing the job got shingles and had to pull out on quite short notice, so … they promoted me.”
“On tour,” I breathe. “How thrilling.”
Kit picks up the book on the seat beside him, and with a flick of his wrist, sends it cartwheeling through the air. I catch it between my palms and turn it gingerly so that I can read the title.
“The Importance of Being Earnest!” I exclaim. The play is a favourite of mine. I open the dog-eared paperback and notice that there are a lot of pencil marks and scrawls in the margins and whole parts underlined. “Is this the production that you’re going on tour with?”
“That’s right.” Kit sits back. “With the Queen Anne Theatre’s touring company. The theatre is a lovely old place, tucked round the corner by the National Gallery.”
I wriggle in my seat. “I can’t wait to see it. I can’t wait to see all of them – the theatres, I mean. I’ve only been to London once in my life to visit Lou. We went to Drury Lane and saw The New Moon with Evelyn Laye, and they set a pirate ship on fire, right there on the stage.” The thrill of it comes back to me as I remember the scene. “But that’s all I’ve seen of the theatre. Can you believe it?”