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up which my agent has put me forward for, so fingers crossed, but you need to tell me what you’ve been up to. After graduating from performing arts … well done you, by the way … your lack of status updates must mean you’re extremely busy.’

      ‘Yes, very busy,’ I answered. The words tumbled out of my mouth before I’d thought about what I was going to say. I didn’t want to stand there and admit I was a failure or share with Grace that I was living in a run-down flat, struggling to pay my bills with barely any money to my name. What would she think?

      ‘Yes, in fact …’ again I wasn’t thinking, ‘I’m just waiting to hear about an audition … a huge show opening on Broadway.’

      Inside I was screaming to myself, Alice, what are you doing? Just tell the truth! I couldn’t believe I’d lied to Grace. I felt so underhanded, but she’d assumed I had it all, and I couldn’t face admitting to her that the truth was so very different.

      Grace was successful, living the dream, and I wasn’t. I didn’t want the focus of conversation to be on me – I’d only just arrived. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about how it had all gone wrong for the girl in New York City. The reason I didn’t post regular updates on Facebook wasn’t because I was too busy. It was more down to the fact that I didn’t have anything to say. Surely, there was no harm in telling a tiny white lie.

      ‘How exciting! I knew you’d make it big and in New York too. You had that raw talent … anyone could see that, even at an early age. I tell all my friends about you … my friend is a star in New York! Everyone is jealous … I can only dream about being that successful.’

      How dreadful did I suddenly feel, misleading Grace like that? I needed to put her right straight away … but I didn’t. I swallowed, opened my mouth, but no words came out. I hadn’t meant to give her the impression I was something special, I was far from special, but for the first time in a long time, it was heart-warming to think someone actually thought I could be successful and capable of achieving my dreams too. That part gave me hope and boosted my confidence a little. So I wasn’t quite ready to spout out how difficult things were back in NYC. Did anyone really need to know?

      My heart squeezed with guilt for giving Grace the wrong impression, and giving myself a small shake, I managed a slight smile.

      ‘At least you can recharge your batteries while you’re here on holiday,’ said Grace.

      The word ‘holiday’ echoed in my head. Usually a holiday was a short period of time away from your work and then you returned home, but already, within a couple of hours, I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time, away from the bright lights of the city. Brook Bridge village was already drawing me in and I hadn’t even seen Grandie yet.

      ‘What are you pair doing up there?’ Connie shouted up the stairs. ‘The food’s ready.’

      Grateful for the change of focus and thankful this conversation was over for the time being, I gave a small sigh of relief.

      ‘Coming,’ Grace shouted. ‘Are you okay with Harry sleeping on your bed?’ He was now curled up in a tight ball and fast asleep at the foot of the bed.

      I smiled at him, ‘He’s absolutely fine there, I don’t mind at all.’

      Animals had been a huge part of my life when I lived in England and I missed the unconditional love they provided. I can remember feeling disappointed when I signed the lease for my flat back in New York, and the very last clause stated no pets were allowed, not even a goldfish.

      ‘Can I quickly use the bathroom to freshen up?’ I asked, taking the washbag out of my case and pulling a brush through my hair.

      ‘Of course, there’s a bundle of fresh towels in there. Help yourself to anything, treat the place like it’s your own.’

      Five minutes later, feeling refreshed, I wandered towards the kitchen. Connie had rustled up a delicious-looking ham-and-egg salad with homemade onion chutney and fresh crusty bread. ‘Eggs from the chickens at Honeysuckle Farm,’ she smiled. ‘Simply divine, and homemade pickles too.’

      ‘This looks delightful,’ I hungrily announced, sitting down at the table opposite Grace who was scrolling on her phone. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘I’ve received a message from Molly on Facebook,’ Grace flicked her phone towards me, ‘asking if you’ve arrived safely.’

      I gasped. ‘I forgot to message her and Mum when I landed. I’ll do it now. Talking of Facebook, I flicked through your latest photo album.’ I wasn’t sure why but the photograph of Sam Reid immediately popped into my mind. ‘You looked amazing.’

      Grace picked up her knife and fork. ‘Thank you. The cast’s last night together – it’s always sad when a production comes to an end. I’m actually feeling pretty gloomy about it. It becomes your whole life and then suddenly there’s nothing, but you’d know that feeling.’ Grace flicked a glance in my direction.

      I didn’t say anything but felt yet another pang of guilt at not confiding in them both about my current situation.

      ‘In fact, were your ears burning? You were the hot topic of conversation,’ Grace now teased, giving me a wink.

      ‘Ha! Me?’ I asked in wonderment when I realised she wasn’t joking. ‘How come?’

      Grace took a mouthful of water and put her glass back on the table. ‘I mentioned you to one of the cast members, told them my best friend from across the pond was a superstar and you were jetting in from New York for a visit.’

      ‘Far from a superstar,’ I managed to say.

      ‘Says the one who is far too busy to update her social media due to her hectic schedule!’

      Grace gave me a knowing smile and I could feel my cheeks redden at the mere thought that my little white lie was already coming back to haunt me only seconds later. Why did I have to give the wrong impression? The embarrassment and guilt were gnawing away at me, I knew I was no superstar. ‘Over-exaggeration,’ my voice came out a little sharper than expected.

      ‘Don’t be modest, credit where credit’s due, and it was only Sam I was chatting to.’

      My ears pricked up, ‘Sam?’

      ‘Yes, Sam … Sam Reid, the lead role in the production we’ve just finished.’

      My heart was racing now.

      ‘He was very impressed I had a friend who lived in New York City, in fact we need to have a drink with him while you’re over here.’

      Of course I was nervous about meeting the man in the photograph I’d admired from afar – but also a little excited. ‘I think I saw him in one of your photos: tight T-shirt, Levi’s jeans.’

      ‘You did notice him and scrutinised his photograph, by the sound of it,’ smiled Grace.

      ‘Maybe a little,’ I smiled, feeling the crimson flush to my cheeks.

      ‘You’d get on well, both of you are top of your game … are you blushing?’

      ‘Leave the girl alone, give her time to settle in before you go teasing her,’ Connie joined in, trying to rescue me from Grace’s scrutiny.

      The blushed cheeks had everything to do with Sam Reid but were also helped along by the high pedestal everyone seemed to be putting me on, which I’d encouraged by not offering the truth straight away about my life and career.

      ‘What about the kids we went to school with? Sarah, Sian, Lizzie and Ben, are they still living around these parts?’ I asked, safely steering the conversation away from my failing career.

      ‘They all moved on after university. Sarah’s a vet, Sian’s a doctor and Lizzie works on one of the national newspapers in London. They all discovered life outside the village, but Ben is still here.’

      ‘Works for his dad’s building firm. The yard is still in the same place, just off

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