Runaway Actress (34 page)

‘So you still want to act?’

‘Maybe,’ Connie said, ‘but not like I was. That was more like an endurance sport. I feel I’ve acted away half my life. I’ve been living through fictional characters instead of living my own life and I want things to be different now. I want to choose my projects more carefully – have more control, you know? I want to enjoy things more.’

Maggie nodded. ‘That’s great, Connie. Although I’m sure your fans will be sorry you’ll be making fewer films but they’re bound to be glad that you’re happier.’

‘Thanks, Maggie. You’ve been a really good friend to me.’ Connie moved forward and wrapped Maggie up in a hug. ‘Well, that’s me happy but what about you?’ Connie asked. ‘What about Mikey? How are things going there? He has noticed you, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes. He noticed I was hanging out with “Ralph”.’

‘Oh, Maggie! Why haven’t you said anything? You should have sorted that out by now. You can’t have him going around thinking that you’re seeing somebody.’

Maggie looked woebegone. ‘I keep hoping against hope that he’ll say something first. I thought Ralph might make him jealous.’

‘And it hasn’t?’

‘It doesn’t seem to have bothered him at all.’

‘Then you’ll have to try something else,’ Connie told her.

‘Like what?’

‘Oh, Maggie!’ Connie said. ‘This isn’t a Jane Austen novel. You’re allowed to tell a man how you feel and not wait for him to call upon you first. Goodness, if all of us did that, nobody would
ever
get together.’

‘I nearly said something last time he was here,’ Maggie said, ‘only we got interrupted.’

Connie groaned. ‘Can’t you meet up somewhere where you won’t be interrupted?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, where does he work?’

‘At the garage in Strathcorrie with Hamish.’

‘And can you talk to him there?’

‘Well, I—’

‘Maggie!’ Connie said. ‘Do you want to move forward with this or don’t you?’

‘Yes, of course I do.’

It was just then that the doorbell went and Angry Angus walked in. Immediately, he clocked Connie.

‘All right, Connie?’ he said with a lascivious wink. ‘Still finding sand in your hair?’

‘Oh God!’ Connie exclaimed, turning away and blushing.

‘Shut it, Angus!’ Maggie said. ‘She doesn’t need your smutty remarks first thing in the morning.’

They watched as Angus disappeared behind the shelves before continuing their conversation.

‘I’m worried, Connie,’ Maggie whispered. ‘What if Mikey doesn’t feel the same way?’

Connie gave her a smile. ‘But what if he does?’

As Connie returned to the B&B, Isla’s head popped around the door of the kitchen.

‘You’ve had a visitor,’ she said.

‘Alastair?’ Connie asked hopefully.

‘No, Euan.’

‘Euan?’

‘Aye. He wanted to speak to you.’

‘What about?’ Connie asked.

‘He wouldn’t say. Said you’re to call on him before rehearsals tonight. You know where he lives?’

‘Number twelve?’ Connie said, knowing all the residents’ addresses by now.

‘Aye. Have yourself some breakfast first, mind.’

Connie did as she was told and, as she sat down, couldn’t help noticing that the waistband of her jeans was feeling decidedly snug. Too much of Isla’s buttered toast, she thought, promising to resume her early morning jog. At some point.

‘You off ?’ Isla asked ten minutes later after Connie had finished.

‘Thought I’d see Euan now. It’s probably about the play. He might have some tips for me.’

‘Aye, well, make sure you don’t let him shout at you like Alastair does.’

‘I will,’ Connie said, walking out into the street but, as she closed the door behind her, she began to wonder. Euan was a very well-respected member of the community. He was almost a village elder, in fact. What if he was going to put Connie in her place after her behaviour last night?

‘Connie lass,’ he might say, ‘this sort of thing might pass for normal behaviour in Hollywood but you’re in Lochnabrae now.’

Oh God! How embarrassing would that be? She shook her head, trying to free herself of the stern face of Euan Kennedy. She was just being silly. He probably just wanted to talk about her films and have her autograph a DVD or something. Or maybe tell her about his conversation with Colin Simpkins just to keep her in the picture.

The bright sky of the morning was beginning to darken now and it looked as if it might rain. Connie looked up at the clouds and thought how beautiful they were. She’d place a bet that her mother would have hated the sight of clouds. She’d always told Connie about the dreadful Scottish weather.

‘Rain, rain and more rain,’ she’d say.

But that’s what keeps it so lush, Connie thought, looking at the glorious tapestry of green mountains. Sure, it was a lot cooler than California but Connie was getting used to that. It was nice to snuggle into warm clothes and she loved her new hiking boots; they were far more comfortable than high heels.

With thoughts of woolly jumpers filling her head, Connie found Euan’s cottage. It was pretty much like the others in Lochnabrae – a two-storey whitewashed house looking out over the loch. Dark red curtains hung in the downstairs windows and there was something wilting in a terracotta pot by the doorstep.

It was then that Connie realised how little she knew about Euan. Had he ever been married? Perhaps he was a widower? Maybe she’d find out, she thought, as she knocked on the door.

When it was opened, she noticed that his frame completely filled the space.

‘Ah, Connie,’ he said. ‘Come in, lass.’

‘Hi, Euan,’ she said, smiling in an attempt to win him over just in case he was about to scold her for the night before.

They walked through to the sitting room at the front of the house. It was small and sparsely furnished but comfortable. One wall was almost completely lined with books and Connie gravitated towards it.

‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That’s quite a collection.’ Her head tilted as she read the spines.

‘They’re mostly wildlife books,’ Euan said.

‘For your job as a ranger?’ Connie asked.

‘Mostly,’ he said.

‘I’d like to know more about wildlife. About everything really. All I know about is my job. Isn’t that boring?’

‘No more than most people. We all do what we can to survive.’

Connie smiled. ‘But there’s so much more to know,’ she said, her eyes scanning the rows of books. ‘Like—’ she paused, ‘grouse. I don’t know anything about grouse.’

‘You want to learn about grouse?’

Connie nodded. ‘Why not? They sound – fun!’

Euan gave a little smile. ‘Connie,’ he said.

‘Uh-huh?’

‘Do you want a cup of tea?’

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Better make it black, no sugar. I’ve been overdosing on this rich Highland cream and it’s gone straight to my waist.’

Euan disappeared and Connie looked around the rest of the room. There was a row of photo frames on the mantelpiece above the fire and Connie went to look at them. There were several of Euan with a young boy. One of them fishing. One of them halfway up a mountain. Another of them coming out of a cave.

‘Who’s this?’ she asked as Euan came back into the room with two cups of tea that he placed on a small table.

‘That’s Jamie,’ he said. ‘My sister’s boy.’

‘You spend a lot of time together?’

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘His father died when he was small. He comes here from time to time.’

‘That’s nice,’ Connie said. ‘And what’s this?’ she asked, her eyes attracted by a small wooden shield hanging on the wall with the name ‘Kennedy’ emblazoned across the top.

‘Oh, that’s the clan crest badge,’ Euan said.

Connie looked closely at the shield decorated with a round metal crest containing what looked like a mythical dolphin. It was set against a fabulous tartan that was predominantly green with stripes of vivid blue, red and yellow crisscrossing it.

‘Wow!’ she said as the colours danced before her eyes. ‘That’s really beautiful.’

‘Aye,’ Euan said.

‘
Avise La Fin
,’ Connie said, reading the inscription on the crest. ‘What’s that mean?’

‘Consider the end,’ Euan said. ‘That’s the clan motto.’

‘Consider the end,’ Connie repeated. ‘I like it. And not many of us do, do we? We just bulldoze our way through life, not really thinking about the consequences.’

Euan cleared his throat and Connie looked at him.

‘You okay?’ she asked. He nodded and Connie looked back at the crest. ‘What exactly is a clan?’ Connie asked.

‘A clan? Well, it’s a family, united by a common ancestor. There’s a tradition that clan members take care of each other – defend their heritage – that sort of thing.’

‘That’s nice,’ Connie said with a smile. ‘I should like to have a clan.’

‘You do,’ Euan said.

‘You mean the Gordons?’

‘Connie,’ he said, ‘will you no’ sit down?’

Connie looked at him and saw that there was something urgent behind his eyes.

‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Is everything okay?’ She suddenly became nervous. What if he was going to tell her something awful? Maybe it was something about Alastair. Maybe Alastair was dying. Or worse –
married
.

Connie sat down and Euan took the chair opposite her. ‘I haven’t been completely honest with you, Connie,’ he said.

‘About what?’

‘About Vanessa,’ he said.

‘My mother?’

‘Aye.’

‘You knew her?’

‘Well, everybody knows everybody in a place like this.’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I wondered if you’d known her. I mean, you’re about the same age, aren’t you?’

Euan nodded. ‘We were at school together. Grew up together.’

Connie smiled. ‘She’s never mentioned you. Mind you, she hardly ever talked about the people of Lochnabrae. There’s so much I want to know.’

‘Aye, well, maybe I can help you there,’ Euan said.

‘Really?’ Connie said. ‘That’s great! So, tell me more about my mother. What was she like when she was at school? And why did she want to leave Lochnabrae so badly?’

Euan shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I think I might’ve been the reason she left Lochnabrae.’

‘Really?’ Connie said, frowning, and then something dawned on her. ‘
Oh!
’ She gave a little laugh as her mother’s past suddenly became a little clearer. ‘You mean – you two were—’

‘Connie, lass,’ Euan interrupted, ‘I’m your father.’

Alastair was watching Sara from the kitchen door as she turned a few meagre ingredients from his cupboards into something appetising for lunch. She was wearing her nightie having taken a walk and showered late and her blonde hair clung damply to her face.

‘You never used to cook before,’ he said.

She turned around and smiled at him. ‘I told you – there’ve been a lot of changes since—’ She didn’t finish her sentence.

Alastair nodded. ‘That’s good.’

‘I feel like a brand new person,’ she said, ‘and I want to make the most of life, I really do. Natalie’s been brilliant. She enrolled me on this cookery course and I’m thinking of doing it professionally.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Don’t laugh!’

‘I’m not laughing. I think it’s brilliant. Your sister always did know what was best for you.’ There was a pause. ‘So, you’re not acting any more?’

Sara turned to face him. ‘You’re not writing plays any more?’

‘Right,’ he said.

‘I think that time is over, don’t you?’

He nodded. ‘Listen, Sara – I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help you. I really wanted to but I didn’t know what to do.’

Sara put down the frying pan and turned to face him. ‘You did everything you could,’ she said. ‘You were the one who found me, remember? You saved my life! And you stayed with me too – far longer than anyone should have expected you to – but I had to do the rest by myself. You’ve got nothing to blame yourself for. You know that, don’t you?’

Alastair looked down at the kitchen floor.

‘Alastair?’ She moved towards him and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘I’m so sorry for what I put you through. I can’t seem to say it enough.’

He looked down at her and then took her in his arms and hugged her. The emotion took him so completely by surprise and it felt good but not like when he’d held Connie on the beach by the loch. It was different between him and Sara now. He would always love her in a special kind of way – rather like a brother might love a sister. He would always care desperately about her and want to know that she was okay no matter how many miles separated them.

‘I never meant to come up here and fight with you,’ Sara added, ‘but I did want to talk and try to explain things.’

‘I know.’

‘And—’ she paused.

‘What?’

‘I was kind of hoping I could win you back.’ She looked up at him, her eyes wide and appealing but then she sighed. ‘But I can see that’s not going to happen, is it?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘I’m too late, aren’t I? I think you’ve already lost your heart to somebody else? Who is it? Some cute little Scottish lass?’

Alastair smiled. ‘Something like that.’

‘Well, that’s good,’ Sara said with a smile but her face was edged with sadness. ‘Then, you don’t mind?’

‘Mind what?’

‘Me coming here.’

‘I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘It’s been good to see you again.’

They looked at one another and smiled.

‘I’m so glad I came.’

‘Me too.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Come on, let’s have this food before it gets cold.’

After Connie had left the shop and Maggie had dealt with Angus – telling him bluntly that she was not about to divulge what happened on the beach between Connie and Alastair and that he should mind his own business – she returned upstairs and stood in front of the mirror. What she saw was a vast improvement on how she’d looked before Connie’s intervention. Her hair was in better condition and no longer looked like a woolly jumper, her figure looked womanly in the new clothes they’d chosen together and her face had certainly benefited from the tinted moisturiser, which had helped to tame her wind-blasted complexion. So why did she still feel so shy about approaching Mikey? Why hadn’t the make-over given her the confidence she so desperately needed? But she knew the answer to that. You couldn’t buy confidence from a catalogue or order it online; it had to come from
you
.