Village Squire, 1980-06, Page 12In case the lite of a sitcom actress seems glamorous, Rosemary
points out she "couldn't think of anything else when doing the
show."
Rosemary admits playing Tina, the divorcee girlfriend of Larry
King, was difficult after Fiona Reid had proved such a popular
"wife" to the happy-go-lucky shopkeeper. It was, Rosemary
says, "difficult to come in and stake out your own territory."
Just when she felt Tina was staking out that territory, after 18
shows, the producers decided to try making King unattached
again.
Still, Miss Radcliffe is pleased that the show when her
"parents" came to visit, dropping the bombshell that poor Tina
was illegitimate, received one of the highest ratings of any CBC
production.
ALL CONSUMING
Working on the series proved to be "all consuming", and
Rosemary said she doesn't know "how Al has done it year after
year." But, despite the fact the show was "very exhausting
work", Miss Radcliffe admits she might be persuaded to try a
series again.
In the meantime, Rosemary Radcliffe had tackled somethia,,.
very different - composine the music for a show called Skin
Deep, "the story of people who really want to be beautiful."
The play was written by Nika Rylski, and originally done as a
workshop production at Toronto's Tarragon Theatre. But now
it's being transformed into a musical, to be performed at the
1981 Charlottetown Festival..
What does the future hold for Rosemary Radcliffe? Likely
more auditions, although she said when you audition in Toronto,
"you meet your friends, and go for coffee" and people aren't
"nasty" if someone else gets the part.
Or she might be heading south - at least that's the prediction
made by a fortuneteller when Rosemary had her tea leaves read
in Winnipeg.
Are there any regre ts? Perhaps, that she doesn't have more
classical acting training and sometimes, that she isn't married,
with a family, but she realizes there's still lots of time for that.
There aren't any regrets about choosing the unconventional
and she likes the fact "there's a certain amount of freedom"
about her lifestyle.
If those tea leaves are correct, Canadians would hate to lose
Miss Radcliffe to Los Angeles permanently, out then, it really
couldn't happen to a nicer person.
Village Squire fiction
Murder in Utopia
(by G.P.)
Speedwell lies in the curve of the river just walked to the big general store, Frank
below the falls, where the pioneers tapped turned to his brother. "Dolly dreams of a
the rushing water to power their first mills. June wedding. I don't suppose you have any
The fertile farmlands on either bank offer intention of settling down."
unbroken prosperity. Too far from the city to "God forbid," chuckled Harold.
worry about theft, only the Widow Moore "We've talked it over. The house is big
locks her doors at night. The standing village enough for two families, let alone three
joke is that Constable Green has grown fat people. The new west wing alone has four
from lack of exercise, the only wrong -doers rooms. Let's divide the place. You make any
being lads that snitch an occasional mcllowv alterations you wish while we're on our
October McIntosh from nearby orchards. honeymoon and take your pick of the
When Frank Blackwell and his wife were furniture."
killed on their return trip from Florida, it was Frank, looking straight ahead as they
only natural that their capable twin sons crossed the street, didn't see the sly grin on
would take over the family business. the other's face.
Although the two worked in perfect So it turned out. Harold in his room
harmony, no two brothers let alone identical breakfasted alone and had his lunch at the
twins could have been more dissimilar. Wee Bite Cafe. On Dolly's suggestion. he
Harold, a targe, florid backslapping young dined with the newlyweds at night. since the
man took after his father. the late mayor. He young bride argued it was as simple to cook
always spoke with a grin about "older for three as two.
brother" Frank, senior by nine minutes.
Frank Jr. for his part was equally tall, but Dolly, a spritely young lacy. showed no
slender and fine-featured, favouring his early enthusiasm for children, and was
mother. happy in her freedom to run into the city
As joint owners of the community's most whenever she wanted. She also reaped
prosperous business they were also its most pleasure from her enthusiastic, but rather
eligible bachelors. Harold played the field, awkward effort, in forming and directing
while Frank was already engaged to Dolly Speedwell's first little theatre group.
Givens, the parson's daughter, at the time of Three untroubled years passed as the
the tragedy. The fun-lov ing Dolly had gone Blackstone Bros. business expanded to
out with both lads during their high school match the growth of the town. Harold, still
days, but like other girls in town, had single, was named godfather for the chunky
dreamed of one day walking up the aisle with new son that Dolly presented her proud
the handsome and more obviously stable husband. Frank the third seemed a bit
Frank. much, so the delighted father suggested
One bright May morning as the two men naming the baby Harold after his brother.
PG.10 VILLAGE SQUIRE/JUNE 1980
Dolly did not demur .
As the baby grew, people noted a
resemblance more to the uncle than the
parents. It was disappointing to Frank who
was devoted as ever to his vivacious
brown -eyed wife. All the Blackstone family.
however. had been solidly built and square
of face. You could look all around the families
in the village and see the way heredity had
played tricks. It was just as appropriate to
declare the baby the very image of his
grandfather.
One or two town gossips recalled Dolly in
her late teens had been rumoured to be a bit
of a high stepper but the high regard in
which Reverend Henry Givens was held.
kept the whispers behind closed doors. No
one in town was held in greater esteem than
hard-working Frank Blackstone.
Baby Harold couldn t have had a more
devoted father. Nothing pleased him more
when his evenings were free than to play
with the child in their spacious library when
Dolly was busy with her theatre group in the
town hall. It was from this room in the old
days a door gave ready access to the wing
now occupied by Frank's brother. Since
Frank's marriage, the door had been locked
and never used.
That evening as the two played on the
floor, the little lad rolled his ball to the door,
laughed and shouted. "Daddy, you get."
Obeying his son's command. Frank moved
to retrieve the ball. Why he noticed the door
at that moment, he would never be able to
tell. It was unlocked. In the years since his