Just a Fan (38 page)

Chapter 25

Highland Retreat

Just as I'd heard on that eventful night, Connor had indeed arranged for us to leave Glasgow that very Monday, taking the train up North across the Highland line and into the most mountainous, scenic part of Scotland, where he apparently rented a small holiday home.

'It's a place I usually like to go after long periods of time in big cities,' Connor informed me as our train smoothly left the station. 'Torridon's just beautiful - I know you'll love it.'

'Torridon...' I repeated quietly, frowning in thought. That sounded familiar...'I think I heard you mention it on a talk show, once.'

'Did I?' Connor wondered, apparently having forgotten. 'I suppose I must have talked about it at some point...it's my favourite place to be, after all.'

I smiled out of the large window, watching the wide green fields and wild brown trees rush by beneath the stormy clouds. 'It must be
very
lovely indeed, then,' I remarked. I heard him laugh softly.

'You'll see for yourself when we get there,' he answered, crossing one leg casually over the other. For a moment we sat in companionable silence, watching the small stone villages and rolling hills go past. Then, I turned my head and looked around at the inside of the train musingly.

'It's very nice, first class,' I commented casually, trying not to sound too excited and amazed. I had never experienced the calm luxury of a first-class train carriage, even though Connor seemed fully accustomed to it.

His chuckle suggested that he had caught the candid tone in my voice, but he was unable to reply because at that very moment an English man in a dark suit happened to come up to us.

''Scuse me, um...might you be Connor MacGowan, by any chance?' he asked, sounding a bit bashful. I was quietly surprised; the people who usually recognised and approached Connor were generally younger and female. This man appeared to be a serious, respectable person rather than a squealing fangirl, but he still seemed quite in awe of Connor nonetheless.

'I am,' affirmed Connor with a smile, his voice taking on the kind, straightforward tone it usually did with shyer people.

The businessman's face lit up in surprise and joy. 'Oh, I
thought
so!' he said. 'I'll have something interesting to tell my daughter when I call her tonight, that's for sure!' They laughed together, and I smiled in amusement.

'Why don't you sit down for a while?' Connor offerred politely, indicating the seats opposite us across the little table.

'Just for a moment, then - I've got my laptop still working over there,' the man replied, and sat himself down obligingly. He beamed at Connor. 'My daughter Fiona's such a big fan of yours - and so's my wife, as a matter of fact! We were on holiday in New York at the time of one of your film premieres, and so Fiona and Liz ended up going to see.' The man chuckled, shaking his head fondly. 'They had a quick lunch across the road from the place, and waited for about eight hours along the barriers until it was evening. There was still a big crowd there before them - but even though they weren't at the very front Fiona still managed to catch sight of you, and she's
still
not stopped talking about it...'

Connor gave a little smile. 'It's a shame that we never get to talk to
everyone
who's come to see us at premieres,' he replied regretfully. 'I was talking to the director that night, and he said it's the harsh rule of first come, first served...which is a pity, because that night I talked to so many interesting, sweet people while I did the signing...'

I was still feeling amazed. This man's daughter and wife had waited
eight hours
, and not even gotten an autograph or a chance to say hello to Connor. I knew that sometimes he even gave out light-hearted hugs to people who were especially keen...but they were always the people at the very front. When I had been at that premiere, in the cleared-out area of the carpet between the barriers, the hundreds of fans who had been there had just seemed like one big block of people to me, rather than individuals who had been waiting and hoping for so long. That just drew attention to how freakishly lucky I had been to stand out from that crowd in Connor's eyes...

'...and she was terribly jealous because one of her friends had been in Los Angeles outside the place where you were at one of those talk shows,' the man was saying. 'Her friend got to meet you afterwards, and had gotten a picture of you signed...Fiona was just beside herself at that -'

'Well, I'm sure we can remedy that,' Connor told him with a grin. 'Have you got any paper?'

After Connor had generously written out a lengthy, signed note headed "To Fiona" on a sheet of paper in the English man's notebook, the man was absolutely overjoyed.

'Thank you so much!' he said. 'I had no idea you were so amiable to your fans!'

'Trust me, he is,' I replied, giving Connor a big smile. The man blinked at me, as if seeing me for the first time.

'This is Lillian,' Connor explained. 'Who, up until sometime last year, happened to be a fan of mine.'

'Oh - yes, I've seen you in a magazine, I think,' the man told me with a smile. 'My wife admires you so much.'

I blushed. 'That's very nice of her,' I replied bashfully, not expecting to have admirers.

The man stayed and talked with us for quite some time, seeming to have completely forgotten his laptop. In fact, he stayed with us for the rest of the journey, and only realised it when we pulled into the station.

'Oh, my! We're here already? Well, that went fast!' he remarked. 'Thanks so much again, Mr MacGowan, it was really nice to meet you - and you too, Lillian!'

'What a lovely guy,' I said to Connor a few minutes later as we left the train. 'He's going to have a lot to tell his family...'

Connor chuckled. 'I hope you didn't mind that we had company for the whole journey,' he said, but I just laughed.

'Mind? Of course I didn't mind!' I replied. 'It just goes to show how wonderful you really are, since so many people know your face and love your work.'

Connor put the arm that wasn't occupied with a suitcase around my shoulders. 'All this flattery, Lilly, really...'

'What, would you rather I was nasty about you?' I teased as we left through the big doors of the station. 'OK then - you're...you're...um...' I struggled for a moment to come up with something I disliked about him. 'You eat squid -'

'Matter of taste,' countered Connor.

'You snore -'

'Really?'

'Everyone loves you too much -'

'Haha.'

'You have no fixed home with personal belongings -'

'Hmm...'

'- and...and...you're so good-looking you make me sick.'

He was silent for a while, then stopped walking to clap his hands. 'What brilliantly valid anti-flattery, Lilly,' he praised me teasingly. 'Though I suppose the home thing is true. But it's useful, since I move about so much...'

'How many places do you have, anyway?' I asked him, becoming a bit more serious.

Connor counted aloud ponderingly. 'Well, there's my penthouse in Manhattan...the apartment in LA...regular hotel room in Detroit doesn't count...nor the one in Vancouver...then there's my rented house near London in the UK...and my special little Highland retreat here.'

My eyes widened. 'Four homes all over the world?'

Connor grinned. 'Just in the USA and the UK, actually,' he corrected me. 'Though some guy was going to sell me a private island in the Pacific, you know...but I said no.'

I was shocked. 'You refused your own private island?' I gasped, unable to imagine who could resist that. 'Why? Was it too expensive?'

'Not too expensive, no - you don't even have to be a movie star to buy one,' replied Connor idly. 'But islands aren't all they're cracked up to be - you have to provide your own generators for electricity, set up a water supply, employ workers...I just don't have the time for that. Besides, I'd be much happier just going on holiday to a place rather than buying and maintaining it...'

'I suppose so...' I said.

'Anyway, this little place of mine in Torridon beats any island house I've ever visited,' Connor remarked. 'Let's go find our car!'

The vehicle that Connor hired was not like any bashed-up old holiday car that ordinary people might get. This one was just as sleek and smooth as one of his own cars, and ran beautifully well over the long roads leading into the mountainous area of Torridon.

'I made sure the tank is full,' Connor told me as the lovely, wild countryside rolled past. 'We're in quite a remote place...'

I sat in awed silence as we began our trip along the winding, ascending roads up the mountainside. The car turned smoothly around the hairpin bends, and had no trouble whatsoever on steeper ground. We passed through a beautiful little forest, all the while meeting hardly any other cars on the road.

'Oh! There's still some snow on the peaks over there...' I noticed, pointing over at the craggy, rocky summits opposite us.

'Just wait till we go down this hill in a second...' Connor told me with a smile, and when we were over it, I gasped.

The clear road wound beside tall, rocky hills covered in short, green grass, curving alongside a magnificent glassy lake, that reflected the stormy northern clouds up above. The car swooped smoothly down the gentle incline of the road, and I felt absolutely breathless with wonder.

'Oh...' I whispered in awe.

'Now you see why I get so homesick sometimes,' Connor replied as we drove alongside the clear grey waters of the lake, spindly brown mountain trees rushing by.

'Yes, I do...' I answered, and looked at him. His position at the wheel was as relaxed as always, but this time something wild and euphoric danced in those blue eyes of his. Pure joy deepened the expressive lines parenthesizing his smiling lips, and I could plainly see how deeply he felt for this place.

I felt entirely the same way; I had a feeling that I would not forget this lovely corner of the Highlands for a long, long time...

Connor's house was some way uphill from the road, with its own little track leading up to it. It was a modest-looking, but still very pretty house, and as soon as Connor had parked the car I got out to have a look.

'It's so lovely!' I told him with a big grin, then turned around in a circle to take in the beautiful views all around. The whitewashed house with the dark roof was tucked right up at the foot of a small, green-grassed hill, behind which a shadowy, rocky mountain rose some way away. A fresh, cold breeze whipped my hair back, and I couldn't stop smiling. Up here above the empty mountain roads and stony valleys, it felt as if Connor and I were completely alone in the world.

'It does make a change from those crowded New York streets full of paparazzi,' Connor agreed, coming up behind me. 'It's just a shame that I can't come here as often as I'd like to...shall we take our bags inside, then?'