Runaway Actress (12 page)

‘Good,’ Alastair said, and got on with the business of getting the drinks in. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said as he joined Connie at the bar. ‘They can be a bit enthusiastic.’

Connie pushed her hair out of her face. ‘It’s okay. I’m sort of used to that.’

Alastair looked at her. ‘How on earth can you get used to that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Connie said. ‘It’s just part of the territory. It comes with the job. You make movies, you get mobbed.’

‘Thank goodness I never wanted to be an actor,’ Alastair said. ‘Just look at them. They’re all trying to work out where we’re going to sit.’

They turned to watch as the people of Lochnabrae hovered between the bar and the tables. Where would Connie sit and who would get the honour of sitting next to her? They all wanted it to be them.

‘We’ll have to play musical chairs,’ Alastair said.

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s when you all get up and swap seats. It’s a kids’ game. It means that everyone’ll get their chance to sit by you.’

Connie looked a little uncomfortable at that. ‘Right,’ she said.

‘You okay?’ Alastair asked.

Connie took a sip of her drink. ‘It’s what everyone seems to want, isn’t it? A little piece of me. I often wonder why.’

Before Alastair could respond, she’d left the safety of the bar and made her way towards the corner of the pub where nobody had thought to sit. Alastair followed and sat next to her and the table was soon swamped by everybody as they did their best to squash along the bench and pull chairs up. Alastair watched in amusement. He’d never seen anything like it before in his life. Well, apart from that time when old Wallace had won twelve hundred pounds on the lottery and was getting the pints in before his wife got wind of it. But Connie seemed to be coping admirably. Her hazel eyes were bright and her megawatt smile never left her face as she acknowledged everyone around her. If only they were as well-behaved, he thought.

‘No need to push!’ Alastair yelled above the hub. ‘Angus! For pity’s sake. Lay off with the elbow.’

‘That was my seat. I was sitting there before,’ Angus said, his face dour.

‘You were not, Angus McCleod,’ Mrs Wallace said. ‘You were over by the bar when I came in.’

Angus glared at Mrs Wallace but knew better than to give her any cheek.

Sandy Macdonald – who was one of the longest-standing members of the LADS – had managed to squash himself next to Connie and was eyeing her up with enormous satisfaction.

‘It’s not every day we get a good-looking lass in The Bird,’ he said.

‘Thanks very much,’ Catriona Kendrick said from the other side of the table. She was nineteen and was one of the most valued members of the LADS, as was her sister, Kirsty, who was sitting next to her, watching Connie with undisguised fascination. Both were attractive girls with long blonde hair but – as far as Sandy Macdonald was concerned that night – they were invisible.

There was one other person who’d managed to secure a seat at Connie’s table. He had fading red hair, a ruddy complexion that looked as if it had taken the brunt of every winter for fifty years or more, and shoulders that looked capable of tossing any number of cabers. His name was Euan Kennedy and he was the founder of the Connie Gordon Fan Club. If anyone had a right to sit at Connie’s table, it was him.

‘Right,’ Alastair said, clapping his hands together. ‘Everyone here?’

‘Maggie’s not here,’ Mrs Wallace said.

‘We can’t start without Maggie,’ Euan said. ‘She does all the work for the fan club. We can’t start without her.’

‘No,’ Alastair said, ‘quite right. Anyone any idea where she is?’

Everybody looked at each other as if someone else would have the answer.

‘Angus,’ Alastair said, ‘why don’t you go and find her?’

‘Because I’ve just got comfy here,’ Angus said, obviously not wanting to risk losing his place at the table.

But he needn’t have worried because it was then that the pub door opened and in walked Maggie and Hamish.

‘Maggie!’ Alastair called. ‘Over here. Come and see who’s here.’

Maggie turned and looked at the figure sitting in the corner of the pub.

‘Holy shit!’ Hamish yelled. ‘It’s Connie Gordon.’

‘It certainly is,’ Euan said, ‘and you mind your language around her.’

‘Why didn’t anyone tell me?’ Hamish asked.

‘Well, I did try,’ Maggie said, a little twinkle in her eye, ‘but you wouldn’t listen.’

‘Alastair,’ Connie said, ‘why don’t you go and get Maggie a drink? Maggie, come and sit here.’

Maggie swallowed.

‘Shove up, everyone,’ Alastair said as he got up to go to the bar. ‘Connie wants to sit next to Maggie and, no doubt, Hamish wants to sit next to her too.’ Alastair gave Hamish a wink.

‘Now, that’s not fair,’ Angus said. ‘Why should Hamish sit next to Connie when he’s late arriving and the rest of us were on time?’

There was a general murmuring of agreement from around the table.

‘Perhaps because Connie wants to sit next to him,’ Connie said and, once again, the whole pub fell silent. Connie Gordon had spoken.

There was a sudden shuffling of chairs as everyone made room for Maggie and Hamish to come through.

Alastair grinned as he watched. Connie certainly knew how to get her own way, he thought.

Maggie wasn’t quite sure what to say when she sat down next to Connie but, luckily, Connie was the one to speak first.

She leant forward slightly in a conspiratorial way. ‘Maggie, I’m so embarrassed about the way I behaved before. Can you ever forgive me?’

Maggie looked at her. ‘
Me
forgive
you?
’

‘Yes,’ Connie said. ‘I behaved badly. I overreacted and I’m really sorry.’

‘But it’s
me
who’s sorry,’ Maggie said. ‘I really upset you.’

Connie shook her head. ‘I was just a bit – well – surprised by some things. That’s all but it’s no big deal – really.’

‘But the signed photos—’

‘Don’t worry.’

‘And the website pictures.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘And Mortimer.’

Connie smiled. ‘You can have him.’

Maggie’s eyes widened. ‘But he’s yours. I’ve no right to him.’

‘You have if I give him to you.’

Maggie didn’t know what to say.

‘It’s my peace offering and I hope you’ll accept him. With my love.’

They looked at each other and Maggie couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m so sorry I upset you, Connie.’

‘Not another word about it. We’re friends, aren’t we?’

Maggie gasped. ‘Yes! Best friends!’ And, before she could stop herself, she’d squashed Connie in a bear hug.

When Alastair returned with a cider and a packet of crisps for Maggie and a pint for Hamish, he – predictably – found his seat was gone. Still, determined not to let Connie be swamped by her fans, he thought he’d better take control.

‘All right, you lot,’ he said, his voice rising above the others’ with the ease of somebody who’s had to fight their playwright’s corner in a thousand theatres, ‘let’s get this meeting underway. This is a very special meeting of the fan club tonight because, as you can see, Connie Gordon is here in person.’

‘Hurray!’ Maggie shouted.

Hamish put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

Euan clapped his great hands together and everybody else followed his example.

‘Wait a minute,’ Mrs Wallace said, ‘I thought it was a LADS meeting tonight.’

‘Och, Edna! We’ve got a Hollywood film star sitting in our midst!’ Sandy said. ‘And you want to talk about the boring old drama group.’

‘I would’ve thought it was of particular interest to Miss Gordon,’ Mrs Wallace said, pushing her great bank of a bosom forward. ‘She’s an actress, after all. Perhaps she’d be interested.’

Everybody turned to face Connie, who swallowed. ‘Well, I – of course—’ she began.

‘Mrs Wallace has a point,’ Alastair interrupted. ‘A LADS discussion is long overdue. There’s a lot to sort out and I’ve got a few issues I’d like to raise. Perhaps later in the evening. We don’t want to scare Connie off now, do we?’

‘That’s exactly what I said,’ Sandy said, nodding wisely and ignoring Mrs Wallace’s bossy bosom that was pointing in his direction.

‘Can we ask Connie some questions?’ Kirsty piped from across the table.

‘Oh, yes!’ Catriona said.

‘Connie?’ Alastair said. ‘Would you be up for some questions?’

Connie took a deep breath and Alastair watched as she surveyed the eager faces around her. ‘I don’t see why not,’ she said.

‘Good!’ Alastair said. ‘Who’s got a question, then?’

Kirsty leapt in first. ‘Why are you here, Connie? Are you filming something? Can I be an extra? I’m a really good actress!’

Connie smiled. ‘I’m afraid I’m not filming although it’s so beautiful in Lochnabrae, somebody really ought to make a film here.’

‘Oh,’ Kirsty said, disappointment flooding her face. ‘Maybe I could be an extra in one of your films, though? I know! I could go back to Hollywood with you!’

‘Kirsty,’ Alastair said, ‘I don’t think the film industry works like that.’

‘Oh,’ Kirsty said.

‘But, if I ever need such a beautiful, talented actress in one of my films, I’ll let the director know where to find you,’ Connie said.

Kirsty beamed.

‘Any more questions?’ Alastair asked.

Maggie nodded and raised her hand as if she were back at school. ‘What made you want to visit us?’

Connie took a sip of her drink and then put the glass down carefully in front of her, her fingers stroking its smooth sides. ‘I think I’m still trying to work that one out.’

‘Why now?’ Maggie persisted. ‘I mean, we’ve written to you so often over the years – you know – inviting you to come.’

Connie nodded. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but it’s only now that it’s registered.’

‘What do you mean?’ Maggie asked.

Connie shrugged. ‘I was looking for an escape. Everything suddenly seemed to be on top of me. I felt like I was suffocating and that was the moment I picked up your latest letter. It was just sitting there waiting for me to read it.’

‘It was a sign!’ Sandy said.

‘Yes,’ Connie said. ‘I think perhaps it was.’

‘Do you miss anything, Connie?’ Alastair asked.

Connie looked into the middle distance. ‘What, you mean like the LA smog and the early-morning calls and being chased by the paparazzi?’

Everyone laughed.

‘I’m trying really hard to think of something I miss but, you know what? I can’t. Not a single thing. Apart from a good skinny latte and my pool, maybe. I miss my early morning swim.’

‘We’ve got the loch,’ Hamish said and Alastair thought it was said rather too hopefully.

‘I’m guessing it’s not heated?’ Connie said.

For a moment, nobody answered because they weren’t sure whether it was a serious question or not but then Connie giggled and everyone followed suit.

‘You know,’ Connie said, ‘you guys are so much nicer than the fans in the US. They’re so pushy. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had a photo taken with a so-called fan and then they crop it so it looks like we’re an item and they sell some outrageous story to the press.’

‘We wouldn’t do anything like that, Connie!’ Maggie said.

‘But you did a pretty good job of suffocating her when you saw her a few minutes ago,’ Alastair said, still anxious for Connie.

‘But it was with the best of intentions,’ Maggie said with a grin.

Alastair sighed. ‘Any more questions, anyone?’ he asked.

‘I’ve got a question,’ Angry Angus said, his voice low and monotonous and his eyebrows hovering darkly over his eyes. ‘Why haven’t you done a western?’

‘Oh, Angus!’ Maggie said. ‘I
knew
you’d ask that!’

‘And what’s wrong with that? You got to ask your question,’ Angus pointed out.

‘It’s all right,’ Connie said. ‘In fact, it’s a very good question. It’s true that I’ve stuck to genres which are familiar to me but that’s not entirely my fault. The public soon builds up a perception about an actor and they come to expect certain things from you. If I did a western, I might disappoint some of those fans.’

‘Not me,’ Angus said.

‘Well, no,’ Connie agreed. ‘And that’s very kind of you. I actually like variety in my roles. I really don’t want to be typecast so perhaps a western would be a good idea.’

‘Then you should tell them directors when you get back,’ Angus said. ‘I can be your agent if you like.’

The whole table laughed at this but Connie smiled politely. ‘I’m sure you’d make a very good one.’

‘He’s certainly bossy enough,’ Hamish said.

‘You’ve got to know what you want in this world,’ Angus said.

‘That’s very true,’ Connie said.

‘And westerns are the thing,’ he continued in his monoto-nous voice. ‘Mark my words. They’re the future of film.’

Everybody tried to stifle their giggles. They were laughing just as much at his monotonous voice as the sentiment it expressed.

‘Well, I think that’s quite enough questions for the time being,’ Alastair said. ‘And you look like you could do with another drink, Connie. Our special guest of honour mustn’t go without.’ He got up from his chair.

‘Oh, you mustn’t treat me any differently from any of you guys. I want to be absolutely normal,’ she said, her hand diving into Maggie’s packet of salt and vinegar crisps as if to prove her point.

‘Well,’ Alastair said, ‘if you want to be treated absolutely normally, you’d better get the next round in.’

‘You mean more drinks? Sure!’ Connie laughed and got up from her seat. ‘You’re on.’

Everybody had to get up for Connie to get out from behind the table and Sandy managed a quick squeeze of her arm as she passed.

Alastair accompanied her to the bar.

‘How’m I doing?’ she asked.

‘You’re doing fine,’ he said.

‘Good,’ she said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with joy.

‘You’re not finding it all too much?’

‘No, no. It’s going okay, isn’t it? I mean, I feel like I’m really socialising – with people who aren’t journalists and – I don’t want to jump the gun here – but I feel like I’m accepted – for who I am.’

‘And who are you?’

She grinned. ‘Tonight, I’m Connie Gordon – pint buyer and crisp eater.’