‘Did you give it to him?’
‘He wanted me to sign his T-shirt.’
‘Oh,’ Maggie said.
‘But I signed his beer mat instead. He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?’
‘Is he?’
Connie looked at Maggie. ‘Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.’
Maggie started straightening the newspapers on the counter.
‘Maggie?’
‘What?’
‘Is there something I should know?’
‘You want a newspaper? The local one’s out today.’
‘No, I don’t want a newspaper,’ Connie said, folding her arms. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
Maggie looked up and her eyes looked as large and as dark as the loch. She looked as if she was about to cry and Connie stepped forward.
‘Maggie! What is it? You can tell me. You’ve read all about my love life, haven’t you? I’m sure you know all the gory details.’
Maggie managed a little smile. ‘But there’s nothing to tell.’
Connie’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘You’re not fooling me, Maggie Hamill.’
Maggie turned her head away a little and her fingers started fiddling with the buttons on her brown cardigan. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Everything!’
‘Everything?’ Maggie said. ‘That’s a lot.’
Connie grinned. ‘I never like to do things by halves.’
Maggie walked up to the shop window and looked up and down the road. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ she asked.
Connie nodded. She’d just had breakfast and had never drunk as many cups of tea in her life before but, if tea would pave the way for Maggie’s confession, then Connie would drink yet another cup.
They went through to the tiny kitchen at the back of the shop and Maggie made the tea.
‘Well, then. The History of Michael Shire,’ Maggie said at last. ‘Could be a film starring your good self.’
‘Then I hope it’s a beautiful love story,’ Connie said.
‘More like a terrible farce,’ Maggie said. She sighed. ‘He’s a friend of my brother’s so I’ve known him all my life. Him and Hamish were always mucking around together. You know – boy stuff. Getting into scraps and scrapes. He was always around here for tea during the holidays and we’d always go off and play together down by the loch.’ Maggie paused, her dark eyes seeming to gaze deep into the past as if she were watching herself as a girl playing down by the blue waters. ‘I was always just Hamish’s kid sister. Scraggy Maggie.’
Connie frowned. ‘He called you that?’
‘Mikey didn’t. Hamish did. But Mikey heard it and that’s what I was.’
‘I’m sure you were no such thing,’ Connie said.
‘I know what I am,’ Maggie said and her voice sounded so small that it brought tears to Connie’s eyes.
‘But you’re beautiful, Maggie. Just look at you. You have the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen.’
‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’
‘No!’ Connie said aghast.
‘But I look like a sheep!’
‘You do not look like a sheep!’ Connie said. ‘It just needs a little—’ she stepped forward and her hands reached out and touched Maggie’s hair. It was thick and soft. And thick. Very thick. ‘A little control,’ she said. ‘A good cut – a bit of styling and—’ Connie ran her fingers through it, ‘some special products to make it sleek and shiny.’
‘Like yours?’
‘If you like.’
‘Oh, I do like yours. It’s beautiful.’
‘But not right for you.’
Maggie self-consciously pushed her hair away from her face.
‘And is this the problem with Mikey?’ Connie asked.
‘What?’
‘Low self-esteem?’ Connie said. ‘Because I know all about that.’
‘You do?’
‘Of course I do! I’m an actress – it’s what we do best! I’ve already had an episode this morning – about my movie roles.’
‘But you’ve got nothing to be insecure about,’ Maggie said.
‘And neither have you.’
For a moment, they both just looked at each other and then they burst out laughing.
‘Of course we have!’ Connie said. ‘We’re women. Insecurity is a given. It’s part of us. In fact, I think insecurity’s actually a gene.’
Maggie nodded. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’
‘So what are we going to do?’ Connie said. ‘About Mikey.’
‘Do? There’s nothing to do,’ Maggie said. ‘I don’t exist.’
‘There’s always something to be done,’ Connie said. ‘I know I haven’t got a good track record with men and relationships but, if there’s one thing I do know, it’s how to get their attention in the first place.’
Maggie looked at her quizzically. ‘But that’s you. I just haven’t got it in me.’
‘But you could have,’ Connie said.
‘How?’ Maggie asked.
Connie grinned. ‘I have an idea. In fact, I’ve been thinking about it all this morning. How about, I help you get Mikey’s attention and you help me with this play.’
‘Alastair’s play? How can I help you with that?’
‘Well, you’re English – you know Shakespeare,’ Connie said.
‘I’m Scottish,’ Maggie corrected her, ‘and I only read half a Shakespeare at school and I didn’t understand half of that half.’
Connie waved her hand in the air dismissively. ‘At least you’re half of a half ahead of me. Now, Alastair said there’s a read-through this Friday so we’ve got to get hold of the play before then. Does he usually give you scripts or what?’
‘There are never any funds for that so we’ve been printing out the plays ourselves,’ Maggie said. ‘Well, not all of us. Sandy never seems to have one and Angus never remembers to bring his. Alastair usually ends up copying a few for us all.’
‘I think we’d better buy the book. Let’s get enough for everyone,’ Connie said. ‘Where’s the nearest bookshop?’
‘Glasgow,’ Maggie said.
‘Glasgow?’ Connie said in horror. ‘There isn’t one in Strathcorrie?’
Maggie shook her head.
‘Then we’ll have to order it online,’ Connie said and the two of them ran upstairs and Connie logged on to her favourite bookshop site. ‘Mind if I put in your address here?’
‘No,’ Maggie said.
‘I’ve got an account with them but my LA address won’t be any use, will it?’
Maggie watched as Connie’s fingers flew across the keyboard.
‘Any particular edition?’ Connie asked. ‘There are hundreds.’
‘The cheapest,’ Maggie said without a moment’s hesitation.
‘Oh, come on – I’m buying. Why not this one?’ she asked, pointing out a very pretty edition.
Maggie gasped. ‘That’s so expensive.’
‘Nonsense,’ Connie said. ‘Now, how many copies?’
‘There’s usually about twelve of us.’
‘So fifteen then – to be safe – or in case people lose or forget them one week. And we’d better have express delivery. That’ll get them here tomorrow and give us a chance to get a head start.’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ Maggie said.
‘I’m just doing my bit to support the local actors. It’s the least I can do really when you’ve all made me so welcome,’ Connie said, getting up and stretching her arms. ‘Now, how about some real shopping? Some really gorgeous clothes to get you ready for this dating business.’
‘But I’ve got plenty of clothes already,’ Maggie protested.
Connie looked at Maggie’s attire and wondered how she could be diplomatic about things. ‘But are they the right clothes?’ she asked. ‘Take mine, for instance. Hardly suitable for a hike in the hills, are they?’
‘You’re going hiking?’
‘Well, not today, obviously, but a
fter you left last night, Alastair mentioned something about a hike.’
‘Oh!’ Maggie said, the light dawning on her. ‘The spring hike! It’s something we do every year – a kind of bonding exercise before we all start rehearsals together.’
‘Well, what if I choose you a new dating wardrobe and you help me pick out some hiking gear?’
‘I’m afraid I haven’t really got anything to spend on clothes.’
‘Maggie!’ Connie said. ‘This’ll be my treat.’
‘I can’t accept—’
‘A kind of thank you for running my fan club for all these years.’
‘But I thought you didn’t like what I was doing.’
Connie sighed. ‘I just didn’t understand what you were doing, that’s all. You’ve been doing an amazing job, Maggie, and I can’t thank you enough.’
‘But the fan club’s been my pleasure – I love doing it. I can’t accept payment for that.’
‘Maggie, Maggie!’ Connie said with a laugh. ‘I have more money than I know what to do with and I never get to treat people. I’m so busy most of the time that I don’t even get to treat myself, and designers are constantly giving me gifts for free so there’s really no need to spend any money at all. So let me treat you. Let me spoil you just a little bit.’
Maggie stared at her with big wide eyes. ‘You want to spoil me?’
‘Yes! Yes, I do,’ Connie said.
At last, Maggie grinned. ‘Okay,’ she said.
‘Really?’
Maggie nodded. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Brilliant,’ Connie said. ‘Let’s get going, then.’
Chapter Fifteen
Maggie was going shopping with a movie star. They were only going to make it as far as Strathcorrie but she couldn’t name anyone else who’d been shopping in Strathcorrie with Connie Gordon.
‘Aren’t you worried about being recognised?’ Maggie said as she grabbed her old handbag.
‘Should I be?’
‘Well, you never know who might be there. The local newspaper’s based there and there’s this horrible reporter – Colin Simpkins. He’d do anything for a story, that one. He went to the same school as me and he’s a real creep. I’d hate to see him get hold of you,’ Maggie said, feeling suddenly very protective of her ward.
‘Oh,’ Connie said. ‘What do you suggest? Shall I get my sunglasses?’
‘Och, no! That’ll make you stand out even more,’ Maggie said, looking around for inspiration. ‘I know,’ she said, running through to her bedroom and returning with an oversize cardigan and a woolly hat. ‘Try these.’
‘Are these yours?’
‘Aye. They should fit you no problem. I’m miles bigger than you.’
Connie took the black cardigan and virtually disappeared when she put it on. It was like a big black hole.
‘And the hat – tuck your hair up into it and nobody’ll recognise you.’
Connie did as she was told and then stood to attention. ‘Will I do?’
Maggie looked thoughtful. ‘Well, I wouldn’t stop you for an autograph.’
‘Good, let’s go then.’
After turning the shop sign to ‘closed’, they locked up.
‘I hope you don’t mind my old car,’ Maggie said as they walked around the back of the shop. ‘I keep meaning to replace it but you know how that story goes. It’s a bit of an old banger but it usually makes it to Strathcorrie and back in one piece,’ Maggie said.
They both got in and, after three unsuccessful attempts, the car started.
‘I bet you’ve got a lovely car, have you?’ Maggie said, pulling out onto the main street and following the loch out of the village.
‘Yes,’ Connie said.
‘What kind?’
‘What?’
‘What kind of car have you got?’
Connie looked out of her window instead of answering.
‘Connie? What is it?’
‘It’s just—’
‘What?’
Connie grimaced. ‘I’ve got five.’
‘CARS? You’ve got FIVE CARS?’
Connie nodded and a faint blush coloured her cheeks. ‘It’s ridiculous, really. I never even use them. I get cabs everywhere. To be honest, I don’t even know what half of them are. I buy them when I’m bored. Isn’t that a terrible confession?’
Maggie’s mouth had dropped open. ‘A rather wonderful confession,’ she said. ‘I usually buy half a pound of treacle toffees when I’m bored.’
As they headed up the hill out of Lochnabrae, Maggie nodded to the right. ‘That’s Alastair’s,’ she said.
Connie leant forward. ‘It looks very small.’
‘It is. It’s an old croft. Barely room to swing a sporran inside but it’s easy to keep warm and he only needs a desk and a chair and he’s happy.’
‘And he was living in London before that?’ Connie asked.
‘Yes, but he’d had enough. Wanted a bit of peace and quiet.’ Maggie suddenly smiled. ‘Like you!’ she said. ‘You’ve come here to get away from the world too – just like Alastair.’
‘But I’m not going to live here,’ Connie said, ‘and certainly not in a croft.’
‘Don’t knock it till you try it,’ Maggie said. ‘They’re very cosy. I can’t really see why anyone would want anything more.’
‘I must seem very spoilt to you, mustn’t I?’
‘Oh! I didn’t mean to say that you were spoilt!’ Maggie said in horror. ‘I just meant that small is sometimes perfect – less complicated.’
Connie nodded. ‘You’re right. My life in LA is so complicated. I have everything a girl could want and yet I’m not happy. I thought, if I came here, where things were simple,’ Connie said, ‘I might be able to sort things out.’
‘Is there a lot of sorting to do?’ Maggie asked and could immediately feel Connie’s eyes upon her. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. What I mean is, I care about you,’ Maggie said, taking a bend in the road a little faster than Connie would have liked, ‘and I don’t mean to sound all weird and fanatical – because I’m not. Well, maybe I am a little bit but I’d really love to help you – if you need my help, that is.’
There were a few moments of silence.
‘I’ve gone and embarrassed you now, haven’t I?’ Maggie said.
‘No, no you haven’t,’ Connie assured her. ‘It’s really sweet of you, Maggie. I don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve it.’
‘Don’t deserve it? Are you kidding?’ Maggie said. ‘You’re Connie Gordon. You’re amazing! You’re beautiful, talented, kind, wonderful – you’re the best movie star around today, and you’re here. You came to visit us and that means the world to me.’
Connie smiled but she didn’t look too certain.
‘What’s wrong?’ Maggie asked. ‘You don’t believe me? You don’t believe you’re the best thing to have happened to the silver screen since Marilyn Monroe?’
‘Maggie! You heap praises on me that I don’t deserve.’
‘You do deserve them!’ Maggie said. ‘You’re a great actress, Connie.’
‘No. Judi Dench is a great actress. Meryl Streep is a great actress.’
‘Yes,’ Maggie said, ‘they are but they’re not Connie Gordon. You’re a great comedienne, Connie. You should really do more comedies. You don’t have an equal.’
‘All right! Enough already!’ Connie said with a laugh. ‘What did I do to deserve you, Maggie?’
‘You don’t deserve me. You deserve twenty of me but I’ll have to do for now.’
‘Maggie, you mustn’t be so – so giving. So trusting. I’ll only let you down.’
‘No, you won’t. You couldn’t possibly let me down.’
‘But it’s too much pressure to put on someone.’
‘I see,’ Maggie said. ‘Well, I didn’t mean to do that.’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Connie said quickly. ‘It’s just – well – I don’t want to be a movie star here. I want to be a friend. A normal, everyday f
riend. I want you to like me for who I am not for the films I’ve made.’
‘But I do like you for who you are!’ Maggie said. ‘Truly! You’re sweet and kind and—’
Connie raised a hand in protest. ‘You don’t have to compliment me all the time.’
Maggie looked disappointed for a moment but then she sighed. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I get it. I’ll treat you like anybody else, right?’
‘Yes,’ Connie said seriously.
They were silent for a few minutes. Maggie slowed the car down as they descended a steep hill and Connie peered up at the sky.
‘Do you think it’s going to rain?’ she asked.
Maggie peered out of the car window. ‘Och, no! Not for hours at least. We should be okay. But we’d better make sure you get a good quality waterproof whilst we’re in town. Just in case. And some waterproof mascara whilst we’re about it. I wouldn’t dare use anything else in the Highlands. Not that you need make-up,’ she quickly added, ‘because you’re perfect just the way you are.’
‘Maggie!’ Connie groaned.
‘Sorry!’ Maggie said. ‘I’ll stop flattering you. I promise. You have my absolute word!’
Chapter Sixteen
The road climbed higher before descending into Strathcorrie but the visibility was so bad that the views were obscured.
‘On a clear day, it’s marvellous,’ Maggie enthused. ‘What a shame we can’t see much.’
Just then, a great hulk of a building loomed up at them from out of the rain.
‘What’s that?’ Connie asked.
‘Oh, that’s Rossburn Castle. It’s pretty old. Up for sale now but been empty for years.’
‘Is it a ruin?’
‘Part of it is,’ Maggie said, pointing to the east tower, which was now home to rooks. It was grey, imposing and horribly dilapidated.
‘I love it,’ Connie said.
‘Do you?’ Maggie said in surprise. ‘I’ve always found it really spooky.’
‘It has a strange beauty about it, don’t you think?’
‘Strange is the right word for it,’ Maggie said. ‘When we were little, Hamish and I would cycle up here in the summer holidays and play in the grounds. We used to make up horrible ghost stories because we thought it was haunted. I used to have nightmares about it.’
‘And is it?’
The Runaway Actress Page 13