Runaway Actress (7 page)

‘Completely ruined!’ Connie’s voice suddenly called down the stairs. ‘I’ll have to chuck them.’

Maggie’s eyes widened with joy as she immediately started planning what she could wear with them. However, looking at the svelte figure coming down the stairs, it dawned on her that she might actually be a couple of sizes out of the trousers’ league. She gazed at the fabulously skinny pair of jeans Connie was now wearing and immediately promised herself that cream cakes were a thing of the past.

‘At least I’m dry now,’ Connie said, joining Maggie and Isla in the hallway. ‘And now we can say hello properly.’

‘I’m Maggie,’ Maggie said, not wanting to wait a moment longer than she had to. ‘Maggie Hamill.’ She stepped forward, her right foot catching on the hallway rug, causing her to plummet towards Connie.

‘Careful!’ Connie gasped, getting a mouthful of dark hair.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m Maggie.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you. You write the letters, don’t you?’

Maggie nodded. ‘Astonishing!’ she said.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You being here.’

‘But you did invite me.’

‘Yes! I just never thought you’d come,’ Maggie said. ‘I mean, I hoped you would.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t ring to tell you first. It was a kind of spur of the moment thing but that’s all right, isn’t it?’ Connie asked.

Maggie nodded, a huge smile plastered on her face.

Connie sniffed. ‘You’re wearing Wishes!’ she said.

Maggie gulped. ‘Yes.’

‘I wear that too!’

‘You do?’

‘It’s my favourite scent. I take it wherever I go.’

Maggie bit her lip, and quickly changed the subject. ‘I wish you’d told us you were coming. I feel awful not meeting you last night.’

‘Hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t need a welcoming committee,’ Connie said.

‘It’s funny you should use that word,’ Isla said.

‘What word?’ Connie asked.

‘Committee. We have a
Connie Committee
, don’t we, Maggie?’

‘Oh! Yes, we do. It’s really just the fan club organisers. You’ll have to meet them. They’d all love to meet you. They won’t believe you’re here.’

‘There’s no rush for that, is there?’ Connie said. ‘I was kinda hoping to find my feet first – get to know the area a bit and relax.’

‘Oh, right,’ Maggie said, feeling a little deflated. ‘But you’ll come and see the Connie HQ, won’t you?’

‘What’s that?’ Connie asked with a frown.

‘It’s where we take care of the website and answer letters and things.’

‘It’s Maggie’s bedroom,’ Isla said.

‘It’s
not
my bedroom. I moved the HQ into the spare room at the front of the house,’ Maggie said.

‘Well,’ Connie said, ‘I don’t suppose there’s any harm in seeing the HQ, is there?’

‘Great!’ Maggie said, clapping her hands together and only just stopping herself from jumping up and down on the spot in excitement. ‘Will we go now?’

‘Right now?’

Maggie nodded and grinned.

‘I guess I didn’t have any other pressing engagements,’ Connie said.

‘Brilliant! Oh, this is so much fun. You’re going to love it, I know you will.’

‘Will you be having lunch here, Ms Gordon?’ Isla asked.

‘It’s Connie. Please call me Connie.’

Isla smiled and nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘I hadn’t really thought about lunch. Or eating. I don’t suppose there’s a restaurant here?’

‘In Lochnabrae?’ Maggie laughed. ‘You must be joking. There’s The Capercaillie.’

‘What’s that?’

‘The local pub but they only do baskets of chips and pies.’

‘Right,’ Connie said, wrinkling her nose.

‘I don’t suppose you eat that kind of thing,’ Maggie said.

‘I – well – I could give it a go, couldn’t I? I mean, I’m on holiday, right?’

‘Right!’ Maggie said. ‘We could get the fan club together in the pub. That would be fun, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t be official or anything – just a gathering of friends, really.’

‘Och, Maggie – will you let the gal settle in before you go parading her before the whole of Lochnabrae?’

‘Oh,’ Maggie said, looking somewhat crestfallen.

‘I will meet them,’ Connie said. ‘I promise.’

‘Okay,’ Maggie said. ‘I mean, we don’t really need to rush. I can keep you all to myself for a while, can’t I?’

Connie swallowed.

‘Oh, dear,’ Maggie said, ‘that sounded a little bit like that film,
Misery
, didn’t it – where the fan kidnaps that writer and ties him up and everything?’

‘Well, just a little bit,’ Connie admitted.

‘But I’m nothing like that. Honestly. I promise I won’t lock you up or prevent you from leaving or anything. You’re free to come and go as you please,’ Maggie laughed. ‘As long as you tell me first.’

Connie looked at Maggie.

‘I’m joking!’

‘Right!’ Connie said, giving a nervous laugh.

‘Now, come and see the HQ,’ Maggie said, opening the door and leading Connie outside.

When they were both in the street, Maggie couldn’t help noticing that Connie was peering at her neckline.

‘What’s wrong?’ Maggie asked.

Connie frowned. ‘I think your jumper’s on back to front.’

Maggie Hamill had never felt more important in her life than right there and right then – walking down the main street of Lochnabrae with Connie Gordon by her side. She could hardly believe it and kept taking little sideway glances at her companion just to make sure she wasn’t imagining the whole thing.

They walked by a row of white cottages between the bed and breakfast and Maggie’s shop and she couldn’t help hoping that they wouldn’t bump into anyone. Please don’t make Mrs Wallace be twitching her curtains now, Maggie begged. Or old Mr Finlay. Not that he’d recognise Connie but that wouldn’t stop him waylaying them. If there was one thing old Mr Finlay appreciated, it was a pretty young girl. Maggie shook her head as she thought of the time he’d managed to trap her as she was turning around from the chilled cabinet.

‘My my,’ he’d said, ‘but you’re a bonny lass, Maggie Hamill.’

Maggie had tried to move away from him but that would have meant sitting on the pork pies.

No, she thought, she couldn’t subject Connie to old Mr Finlay.

Unfortunately, just as Maggie thought they were safe, she heard his front door open.

‘Hello there, Maggie!’ he called, shaking his walking stick in the air and making his way hastily down the path. He really could move at an alarming speed when he wanted to.

‘Hello, Mr Finlay,’ Maggie said, with a resolute smile on her face. ‘Don’t let him near you,’ she whispered to Connie.

‘What?’

But it was too late to explain because Mr Finlay was upon them.

‘Why now,’ he said, his thin face creasing into a slavering sort of smile, ‘here’s a bonny lass I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting.’ And, before Maggie could even introduce them properly, he’d taken one of Connie’s hands and had suckered his mouth to it.

‘Oh!’ Connie exclaimed, doing her best to pull it away but not succeeding. His grip was iron-fast.

‘What a soft hand you have and what a lovely wee face. And what might you be doing here in Lochnabrae?’

‘Connie’s having a holiday,’ Maggie explained, ‘and we were just about to go out so if you’ll excuse us, Mr Finlay.’ Maggie grabbed Connie’s other arm but Mr Finlay still had hold of her and, for a few seconds, there was a bit of a tug of war until Maggie won with one colossal tug.

‘I’ll see you again!’ Mr Finlay said ominously.

‘Quick!’ Maggie said. ‘Before he follows us into the shop. We’ll never get rid of him if he makes it over the threshold.’

Connie allowed Maggie to drag her to safety.

‘I’m so sorry about that!’ Maggie said once they were safely behind the locked door of the shop. ‘He means well but he can be a wee bit – er – intense at times.’

‘Is he always so attentive?’ Connie asked, wiping her hand on her jeans.

‘Yes. As long as you’re female.’

Connie nodded. ‘I wish I could say I’ve never met anyone like that before but the whole of LA is like that.’

Maggie grinned. ‘Well, I promise you we’re not all cut from the same cloth as Mr Finlay.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Connie said. ‘I don’t think I could survive many of those encounters,’ she said, rubbing her arms. ‘So, this is one of the shops in Lochnabrae?’ she said, looking around “Maggie’s”.

‘Er, no,’ Maggie said. ‘This is the
only
shop in Lochnabrae.’

‘No!
Really?
’ Connie said.

‘Yes, really!’

‘How on earth do you survive without – without other shops?’

‘What do you mean?’

Connie looked around. ‘I mean, how can you live somewhere without restaurants and coffee bars and – well,
everything
else?’

‘Because this is Lochnabrae not Los Angeles,’ Maggie said. ‘We have to make do.’

‘You must do a roaring trade, then.’

‘We do when the weather’s bad and people can’t get to Strathcorrie. Other than that, it’s a bit of a struggle. Folks love a bargain and local shops just can’t compete with prices.’

‘So, Strathcorrie has all the shops and restaurants?’

‘I wouldn’t say restaurants although the pub there does a nice Sunday lunch.’

‘God! Where do you all eat? And what do you all
do
here?’

Maggie laughed. ‘We mostly eat at home or in the pub. It’s a quiet life, I’ll give you that, but most of us are happy with it.’

‘And you get by – with your shop, I mean?’

‘Things could be worse,’ Maggie said. ‘Of course, they could be better. The shop was run by my parents and by their parents before that and I’d hate to think of it closing. It’s so important to the community – especially for the old folks who can’t get out much. We’ve already lost the post office and the school closed down years ago too. The shop’s all we’ve got now.’

‘And the pub?’

‘Aye!’ Maggie said. ‘The pub will be here for ever. As long as there’s men to do the drinking, the pub’ll be safe. You’ll get to see it later. It’s a sight to behold,’ Maggie said with a laugh.

‘Is it near the HQ? You were going to show it to me.’

‘Yes, yes!’ Maggie said, suddenly wondering what sort of a state the HQ was in. It was fine when it was just herself but was it really fit for the arrival of its queen? ‘Can I get you a cup of tea first?’ she asked, thinking she could possibly nip into the room first whilst Connie watched the kettle.

‘No, thank you,’ Connie said.

‘I might just make one for myself.’

Maggie led Connie through to the kitchen at the back of the house – a funny pokey room that was in a far worse state than the fan club HQ.

‘You’ll have to avert your eyes,’ Maggie said as she realised that she hadn’t done the dishes that morning. Or the ones from the night before. There’d been that really great movie on until late and she’d put off tidying up until the next day. Then there’d been the call from Isla. ‘I’m usually very tidy,’ she said.

‘You don’t have to explain,’ Connie said. ‘I live on my own too and it’s easy to be a little sloppy.’

‘Sloppy? You?’

‘Well, I would be if I got a chance. The trouble is, if I drop something or leave something unwashed, somebody comes along and picks it up or washes it before I’ve even noticed.’

‘Wow! It must be amazing having your own staff. Do you have a lot?’

‘I have staff coming out of my ears,’ Connie said. ‘Drives me crazy. Sometimes, I’d just like the house to myself, you know? It’s a bit like living in public at times.’

‘Gosh,’ Maggie said, trying to imagine what that must be like.

‘That’s one of the reasons why I’ve come here,’ Connie said. ‘I want to try and be – well –
normal
for a while. Find out who I really am without all the trappings of success, you know?’

‘No,’ Maggie said. ‘I mean, I can’t imagine what it must be like being you. And I have tried – many times! I read about you in all the papers and magazines and the online reports. I’ve always thought it must be wonderful. I can’t imagine wanting to escape from that sort of life and come to a place like this.’

‘Can’t you?’

Maggie shook her head. ‘It’s so – ordinary here. Nothing exciting ever happens. Not unless you count my brother Hamish streaking down the main street once a year on Burns’ Night after he’s had one too many.’

Connie smiled. ‘But you have something else here.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Peace,’ Connie said.

‘Och, I don’t know about that. You should hear the men coming out of The Capercaillie in the evenings. It’s not very peaceful then.’

‘No, not that kind of peace,’ Connie said. ‘I mean that sense of place. Of permanence, harmony, nature – that sort of thing. I felt it as soon as I arrived.’

‘Aye, we’ve plenty of nature. You can’t move around here for nature.’

‘And the lake – I mean loch,’ Connie said. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

Maggie nodded. ‘Now, there’s a place that’s peaceful,’ she said. ‘You can hear whole conversations people are having on the other side. The sound travels right across the water.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, aye,’ Maggie said. ‘There’s no privacy here. My father used to tell a story about a young couple who were dating. It was rumoured that the man was going to propose to his sweetheart one night by the loch so the whole village turned out, watching from the other side and, after he popped the question, a huge cheer went up!’

Connie laughed and then looked out of Maggie’s kitchen window. ‘Just look at that view. There’s something stunning wherever you turn.’

Maggie followed Connie’s gaze towards the fells. ‘It’s not so bad.’

‘Not so bad? It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.’

‘You should see the view from the HQ,’ Maggie said, completely forgetting her cup of tea and the mess she was going to try and tidy away before inviting Connie in. ‘It’s the best view in Lochnabrae. Apart from Alastair’s, that is.’

‘Alastair?’

‘The man whose dog wrecked your trousers.’

‘Oh, him.’

‘He lives up the hill just outside the village. You can see the whole of the loch from there and the village too and all the mountains. It’s amazing – especially when you get those great white clouds reflected in the loch. You’ll have to go up there.’