‘I still don’t get it,’ Mrs Wallace said, her chins wobbling in annoyance. ‘Who are the twins?’
‘Viola and Sebastian,’ Alastair said.
‘And Viola’s in love with Orsino?’ Angus said.
‘Yes!’ Alastair said.
‘But he’s in love with someone else?’
‘Olivia,’ Alastair prompted.
‘Then who’s Olivia in love with?’ Maggie asked.
‘Viola.’
‘But she’s a girl!’ Mrs Wallace said.
‘Disguised as a young man,’ Alastair said.
‘It’s disgusting,’ Mrs Wallace said.
‘It’s funny. Just think of it as a love triangle,’ Alastair said. ‘Tell you what. It’ll help once we’ve sorted out the cast. I thought I’d better be Orsino.’ Alastair placed his chair in the middle of the circle. ‘Maggie – you’ll be a great Olivia. Join me here, will you?’
Maggie moved her chair into the centre next to Alastair’s.
‘And Ralph – you’ll be Viola.’
‘But he’s a man,’ Mrs Wallace said.
‘Och, now I’m really confused,’ Sandy said. ‘We’re having a man playing a woman who’s pretending to be a man?’
Alastair laughed. ‘Not quite. Do none of you recognise Ralph?’
Isla and Hamish giggled.
‘What’s going on?’ Catriona said.
‘It’s Connie,’ Alastair said. ‘Ralph’s Connie!’
Everyone looked at Ralph.
‘Hi, everyone,’ Connie said, taking her cap off and unpinning her trademark red hair.
‘Oh my God!’ Kirsty screamed.
‘You knew?’ Catriona said.
‘Just a few of us,’ Alastair said. ‘We had to disguise Connie before. Colin Simpkins got the idea she was staying in Lochnabrae and we can’t have him finding her here.’
Mrs Wallace shifted uneasily in her chair.
‘So you’re going to be dressed up as a wee lad?’ Sandy asked.
‘For a wee while,’ Connie said, smiling.
‘It’ll be a good way for you to get into character,’ Alastair said.
‘So let me see if I’ve got this right,’ Sandy said. ‘We’ve got Connie pretending to be Ralph who’s playing Viola who’s pretending to be Cesario.’
‘That’s it exactly!’ Alastair said. ‘Now we’ve got that cleared up, we can make a start.’
After two more tea breaks, the LADS finally limped to the end of Twelfth Night with Kirsty reading through Feste’s final song.
A stunned silence fell over the village hall.
Mrs Wallace was the first to speak. ‘It’s not a very happy ending, is it?’
‘Not for Malvolio,’ Alastair said. ‘But everyone else seems happy enough. They’re all in love with the right people at last.’
‘And Malvolio gets his just desserts. Annoying people usually do,’ Maggie said, clearly aiming the remark at Mrs Wallace.
‘Is everyone happy?’ Alastair asked. ‘Any questions, any concerns? Angus. You’re looking worried.’
Angus’s mouth twisted around in his long face. ‘This Antonio character I’m playing.’
‘Yes?’
‘I see him as a sort of hero. He’s willing to sacrifice a lot for his friend. A bit like a hero from a western.’
There was a collective groan.
‘No, no,’ Alastair said in defence. ‘Angus has a point.’
‘Don’t encourage him,’ Euan said. ‘Else he’ll play the part wearing a cowboy hat and boots and swagger across the stage like John Wayne.’
Everyone laughed. Except Connie.
‘How about you, Connie?’ Alastair asked. ‘Or should I say Ralph?’
Connie nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said in a very small voice.
‘Okay?’ Alastair echoed. ‘You’re okay with the part, you mean?’
She nodded again.
‘It’s Connie’s first Shakespeare,’ Maggie said.
‘And a very good one to start with,’ Alastair said. ‘Well, I think we can wrap things up tonight. We’ll meet up again tomorrow night at seven thirty and start working on our parts in groups.’
Everyone got up, scraping their chairs back before stacking them against the wall. Mrs Wallace and Angus cleared away the tea things and the rest of the LADS made a slow exit to the door, Alastair holding it open and switching off the lights behind them. Bounce, who’d been present during the read-through, tore through the open door and legged it down to the loch, drinking thirstily from the icy evening waters.
‘Night, Alastair,’ Hamish said. ‘I’ll remind Mikey to actually turn up tomorrow.’
‘Aye,’ Alastair said. ‘We missed him tonight.’
Alastair watched as everyone walked up the main street, turning off to their own homes and shouting their goodnights.
The read-through had gone well – better than expected if he was honest. He’d been anxious that the LADS might not be ready for Shakespeare but they’d coped brilliantly. Only one person didn’t seem totally happy with everything and that was Connie.
Alastair watched as she walked up the road with Maggie and Isla flanking her like bodyguards. She’d been quiet that evening, reading through her part with a rare concentration as if it was a piece of homework she had to get through rather than something that might actually be fun. Her eyes had been wide and anxious and there’d been many a moment when he’d wanted to say something comforting to her to put her at ease. But she was a professional and Alastair was convinced that they were going to witness the best performance Lochnabrae had ever seen.
Walking up the hill to his home with Bounce walking nicely to heel, Alastair couldn’t help wondering what the future held in store. Was Connie really going to stay in Lochnabrae long enough to perform with them at Christmas? He couldn’t quite see it himself and yet she seemed to have made a commitment to them all that night.
Connie Gordon. He still couldn’t believe she was here. Larger than life and far more beautiful than she’d ever appeared on the silver screen even when she was sporting a scar and fake moustache as Ralph.
He shook his head. Stop thinking about Connie Gordon, he told himself. She’s way out of your league. She’s a superstar, and transplanting herself to Lochnabrae isn’t going to change that.
He’d just turned off the road and onto the little track that led to his cottage when Bounce started to pull on his lead.
‘What is it, Bounce?’ he asked, half-expecting to see a fox or a grouse breaking its cover.
Bounce started to bark and, as Alastair approached his front door, he saw that it wasn’t a fox or a grouse that had caught Bounce’s attention – it was a beautiful young woman.
‘Hello, Alastair,’ she said. ‘Surprised to see me?’
Chapter Thirty
Connie sat down at her dressing-room table and stared at her reflection. Ralph stared back at her, scarred and scared.
‘What am I doing?’ she asked him. He didn’t reply and Connie slowly began to take off her disguise, peeling off the fake moustache and cleansing off the heavy make-up.
The play had been a big mistake. She should never have allowed herself to be persuaded to do it but, when the whole of the village had been egging her on, how could she have said no? But the read-through that night had confirmed to her that she just couldn’t do it. Reading through sections with Maggie explaining had been one thing but reading it with a group of people and then being expected to actually memorise it and perform it on a stage in front of a living breathing audience was just too much for Connie. But how was she going to tell them?
‘Quickly,’ she told herself. In fact, the sooner, the better.
It was after eleven o’clock but she knew she’d never sleep until she’d told Alastair and, as she thought the phone a cowardly way out, she decided to walk up to his house. The walk would do her good – burn off some of her nervous energy.
But her disguise? She’d just taken it off.
‘Oh, no,’ she said. Her hat wou
ld have to do. Besides, nobody was going to be hanging around the village in the middle of the night, were they? This wasn’t exactly paparazzi country.
Putting on the new coat Maggie had chosen for her in Strathcorrie, Connie sneaked down the stairs and let herself out of the B&B as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Isla, grabbing the large torch on the table by the door and venturing outside. Connie had never known darkness like it. It was so all-consuming and it made her feel quite tiny, especially when she gazed up at the stars that spangled the sky. She took care to keep her eyes fixed on the ground, however. It would be all too easy to become distracted and end up in the loch. All she knew was that she had to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Only then could she relax and she so wanted to enjoy her time in Lochnabrae. Since the arrival of Bob Braskett, she’d been feeling uneasy. He’d put doubt in her mind and she was determined that he wasn’t going to succeed. Whatever her future held, it was a future that would be decided by her and her alone.
She hadn’t gone far when she heard a rustling sound from behind her. She stopped, turning around with the torch at waist level.
‘Hello?’ she said into the night. She flashed the torchlight in an arc and gasped as it found a pale face in the darkness.
‘Connie Gordon,’ a voice said. ‘I knew you were here.’
‘I take it you’re not going home tonight,’ Maggie said to Hamish.
‘Thought I’d crash in my own room, sis,’ he said, taking another mouthful of the apple pie he’d found in the fridge. ‘Wasn’t Connie amazing tonight?’
‘You think?’
‘Of course,’ he said.
‘I thought she seemed nervous,’ Maggie said. ‘Like she wasn’t really sure about anything. Even the scenes we’d talked through together.’
‘Och, you’re talking rubbish. She was brilliant.’
‘And you’re talking like a man with a crush,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m telling you, she wasn’t happy.’
Hamish finished the last of the pie and looked at his sister. ‘You think she’ll pull out?’
‘I don’t know,’ Maggie said, taking his plate from him and placing it in the sink. ‘But I think we should keep an eye on her.’
Connie gasped out loud as the man stepped out of the shadows and into the full glare of the torch. It was Colin Simpkins.
‘Nice disguise you were wearing before. Of course, I had my suspicions in the pub,’ he said unconvincingly. ‘Shame you didn’t keep it on. I might’ve overlooked you.’
‘What do you think you’re doing, hanging around in the middle of the night?’
‘My job, Miss Gordon. Just doing my job.’
‘Oh, really? Scaring a woman half to death? You’re lucky I didn’t bash you over the head with this torch.’
‘So, why are you here, Connie?’ Colin asked, sounding all too familiar.
‘You think I’m going to talk to you?’ Connie said, and turned to walk away.
‘What are you running away from?’ Colin asked, jogging to keep up with her.
‘I’m not speaking to you,’ Connie said. ‘You’ll get no story out of me.’
‘But you just being here’s a story,’ he said.
Connie tried to ignore him.
‘And I won’t be going away in a hurry, I can tell you, so you may as well talk to me – get your side of things out there before I make stuff up myself.’
Connie stopped in her tracks. ‘Oh, please! Don’t pollute my ears with such rubbish. I’ve had stuff made up about me all my life – whether I’ve given “my side” of the story or not. You journalists always manage to twist things. You write what you want to write, not what anyone tells you. You’re not interested in the truth. You’re only interested in yourself.’
‘Ooooh! Biting words. The nasty side of Connie Gordon is coming out now.’
‘I’m not being nasty. I’m being honest.’
‘Aye, you might well be but I’m going to twist that, aren’t I, because I’m a journalist and I’m the lowest of the low.’
‘You said it,’ Connie said. ‘Now leave me alone.’
‘Okay,’ Simpkins said, reaching for his mobile phone and taking a quick snap of Connie. ‘I’ve got what I came for, anyway.’
Connie listened as his footsteps retreated. She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach by the man and just wanted to double back to the B&B and curl up in her bed.
‘Connie? Is that you?’ a voice suddenly said.
‘Maggie?’
‘Aye,’ Maggie said. ‘I heard voices. Are you okay?’ Maggie took Connie by the arm and led her inside. ‘What are you doing out here?’
They walked into the shop together, Connie blinking as Maggie put the lights on.
‘I was—’ she paused. What could she say? That she was going to see Alastair to tell him she was pulling out of the play? ‘Just walking,’ she finished. ‘I felt a bit restless.’
‘But I heard you talking to someone.’
Connie nodded. ‘Simpkins was here.’
‘Why, the low-level rat!’ Maggie hissed.
‘He was hanging around outside Isla’s and followed me.’
‘And you weren’t wearing Ralph,’ Maggie said. ‘I suppose he recognised you?’
‘He said he’s got his story now too.’
‘Oh, no! What can we do?’
‘There’s nothing we can do. We’ll just have to ride it out,’ Connie said. ‘I’m sure it’ll blow over soon enough. Once people know I’m here, the novelty will wear off. They’ll soon get bored of me.’
‘Isn’t that what Princess Diana thought?’ Maggie asked.
They were quiet for a moment.
‘The thing is,’ Connie said, ‘if I run away, I’ll just run into another story somewhere else. Anyway, I don’t want to run away. I like it here.’
‘And here likes you,’ Maggie said with a smile.
‘So, I have to stay and see it through,’ Connie said. ‘I want to stay. Only—’
‘What?’
‘If I stay, I’ll have to be in the play, won’t I?’
‘I knew that was worrying you!’ Maggie said.
‘The play’s so much a part of Lochnabrae and – if I stay – I want to be a part of that too,’ Connie said.
‘And you will,’ Maggie said, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Connie sighed. ‘But I don’t think I can do it.’
‘’Course you can,’ Hamish said, suddenly appearing in the middle of the shop in his pyjamas.
‘Hamish!’ Maggie scolded.
‘I’m sorry,’ Connie said, turning to go. ‘It’s late. I’m disturbing you.’
‘No, don’t go,’ Maggie said. ‘Come on through and have some hot chocolate.’
Connie relented and followed the two of them upstairs. There was a small lamp on in the tiny living room and the warm glow was comfortingly concealing, for Connie was feeling as if she might cry at any moment. She was tired and she’d been pushed, prodded and perturbed and wasn’t quite sure which way was up and which was down any more. Maggie made sure she was comfortable on the saggy sofa before disappearing to make three cups of hot chocolate.
‘You were great tonight,’ Hamish said, sitting down in an ancient armchair opposite her.
‘No, I wasn’t. I was crap.’
Hamish frowned. ‘How can you say that?’
‘Because it’s the truth,’ Connie said with a shrug. ‘I didn’t understand the plot properly, I could hardly say any of my lines without stumbling and I’m terrified – physically terrified – of the idea of being on stage.’
Hamish chuckled. ‘So’s everyone,’ he said. ‘It’s part of the fun of amateur dramatics. Who’ll make an arse of themselves first?’
Connie looked confused. ‘What?’
‘It’s true!’ he said, leaning forward as he got into his stride. ‘It’s just a wee bit of fun to pass the time. We’re not in it for artistic brilliance. Well, Alastair might be – he does try and push
us all to do our best. We’re just out to have a laugh, really.’
‘But you all looked so serious tonight,’ Connie said.
‘Aye. Well, that’s nowt but a bit of healthy competition. We all try to outdo each other at the read-through – like we know what’s going on,’ Hamish said.
‘But you knew what you were doing, didn’t you?’
‘Now and again,’ Hamish said. ‘But half those words are Greek to me. It takes time to learn a play. That’s why we’ll be having all them rehearsals. It’ll come – gradually. You’ve just got to allow yourself to jump the hurdles and not shy away from them.’
Connie sniffed. ‘Well, I’d never really looked at it like that before.’
‘But you must have. What with all them films you’ve done.’
Connie shook her head. ‘But they were easy. Films are never shot right through in one take. You do them in bite-size pieces. You only have to learn a few lines and perform for a few minutes at a time. I can do that.’
‘Aye, I know you can,’ Hamish said. ‘And better than any actress I’ve ever seen.’
Connie smiled. ‘You’re sweet,’ she said.
‘But you can do this play too, Connie,’ he said. ‘I know you can.’
‘You think?’
‘Aye, I do.’
They locked eyes and Hamish smiled at her and nodded.
‘Here we are,’ Maggie said, entering the room with a tray loaded with three mugs and a plate of chocolate fingers. ‘Now, let’s discuss this problem.’
‘Oh, there’s no problem,’ Connie said.
‘It’s all sorted,’ Hamish said.
Maggie looked at her brother and then looked at Connie. ‘Sorted?’
‘Aye,’ Hamish said.
‘Aye,’ Connie echoed, and they both leant forward to steal a chocolate finger.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Sara!’ Alastair exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, and it’s lovely to see you too!’ Sara replied. Bounce immediately leapt up at the unexpected visitor. ‘Well, at least somebody’s pleased to see me.’ She bent down and patted the soft, ebony head.
‘Of course I’m pleased to see you – it’s just a bit of a surprise.’
‘You know I’ve always liked surprises,’ Sara said.
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