Little Red Lies Read Online Free Page A

beautiful,” I say, “but she can’t act worth beans.”
    “If you’re beautiful, you don’t need to be able to act. She has class, she has high cheekbones, and she’s blonde. That’s all you need these days, besides great teeth. She’s also tall and willowy.” Ruthie goes to a lot of movies, so she knows what she’s talking about.
    “As far as acting goes,” I say, “her finest attribute seems to be the strength of her voice. It probably carries from the auditorium stage all the way to the second storey of the school.”
    “
Ahem!
Are you jealous?”
    “No. It’s just that, with Mr. Mackiewitz in charge, the play was all about decibels, not emotion, not style. I’m just hoping Mr. Tompkins will be a bit more lavish in the passion department.”
    “He will be. You can tell just by looking at him, his second name is passion.”
    “If I were directing the play, I’d give the audience some grand sentiment to take home. I would have them gasp or shed tears or cower in their seats.”
    “Wouldn’t that be more or less the playwright’s job?”
    “Initially, yes. But then the director has to go to work and wring every drop of emotion out of each word, comma, and period.”
    “Well, what about my role as the ding-dong maid? I don’t know how you’d find any emotion in
Will that be all, Madam
? Not exactly high drama.”
    I would never mention this to anyone, but Ruthie has about as much acting talent as a dead guppy. “It could be
medium
high drama,” I say. “Personally, I see your character as a vamp. Why don’t you swing your hips a bit and say the lines with some passion in your voice? Maybe with a slight foreign accent.”
    “She’s just a girl who answers the door and dusts the furniture.”
    “But she could be so much more!” I’m thinking hard. “She could have a little catch in her voice as she says
Madam
.”
    “But, why?”
    “Perhaps her lover was killed in the war.”
    “It takes place before the war.”
    “I’m sure there was a war on somewhere. Anyway, you’re playing the maid too flat. It’s highly possible that she has a dead lover. I think you should let her sound as if she’s close to tears.”
    “I’ll try it, but I’m afraid Tommy will think I’m ridiculous.”
    “Forget Tommy. Consider the audience. It needs to feel immediate sympathy. It needs to wipe a silent tear from its collective eye.”
    She doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I’ll do my best,” she says.
    She waves good-bye at the corner, and we scurry along our separate ways before the black clouds decide to dump on us.

CHAPTER

3
    Granny’s there when I get home. She comes in from the farm nearly every weekend to have dinner with us and sometimes to spend the night, more often now that Jamie’s home. Her old dog, Bounder, prefers to stay with the hired man while she’s in town.
    During dinner she keeps staring at Jamie, lips pursed, as he stickhandles his food around his plate, without eating much of it. “That lad has picked up some foreign bug,” she says. “He’s eaten almost nothing. If I were you, Dora, I’d hike him off to a doctor right smart. Who knows what germs are roiling around inside him? Those foreign hospitals, where he had his leg looked after, are nothing but a breeding ground for all manner of diseases. It’s a wonder anybody gets out alive. Look what happened after the last war. Everybody died of the flu.”
    “A few were spared,” Dad announces from his end of the table.
    Jamie puts his fork down. “Look, I’ve seen enough soldiers’ spilled guts, along with quantities of their blood, to turn me off food for the rest of my life.”
    Mother puts her hands over her ears. “Oh, Jamie, stop! You’re spoiling dinner for the rest of us.”
    He stares at a spot on the far wall and pushes a few forkfuls into his mouth. He chews and chews, and after every bite, he takes a couple of swallows of milk to wash it down. He’s just trying to make a point. It’s obvious