Runaway Actress (22 page)

‘Anyone seen Mrs Wallace?’ Alastair suddenly bellowed.

‘Oh, she rang me this morning,’ Isla said. ‘Said she felt a cold coming on.’

‘What a shame,’ Maggie whispered to Connie. ‘We’ll all miss her friendly banter.’

Connie tried not to smile. She was so looking forward to this walk and getting to know everybody. In a funny way, she felt like she knew everybody already because they’d all made her so welcome but this was her time to start returning the favour and trusting them,
really
trusting them. She had to stop thinking that somebody was going to sell her out to the newspapers or that they only liked her for her fame. It was the only way forward and she had every intention of following it.

Just then, Mikey the Biker appeared around the corner, his sleek motorbike gleaming in the early morning light, its engine throbbing.

‘Wow!’ Maggie said before she could check herself.

Connie’s mouth dropped open. Wow indeed, she thought. He was Lochnabrae’s very own Marlon Brando.

He pulled over outside The Capercaillie in a cloud of dust and removed his helmet, shaking his dark hair free and nodding at the crowd. Kirsty and Catriona rushed forward, Catriona grabbing his helmet and pushing it on over her red hat.

‘Let me!’ Kirsty said, taking it off her sister.

Mikey laughed as he got off the bike, leaving the girls to fight over his helmet.

‘Well, hello there, Connie,’ he said, striding over to meet her. ‘You’ve got your bodyguards, I see.’

‘It’s Angus!’ Hamish whispered. ‘He’s been stalking Connie.’

‘Has he now?’ Mikey said, looking around to where Angry Angus was standing. He was watching them, a frown on his face as if he didn’t approve of any of them.

‘Well, I’ve just got to slip out of me leathers,’ Mikey said, ‘then I can join your little posse and make sure you’re safe.’ He sloped off to the porch of The Capercaillie.

Maggie did her best not to watch but she just couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t as if he was naked underneath – he’d managed to squash his hiking trousers on under his leathers – but she just loved looking at him: his long, strong legs, his tight bum as he bent over, and the way his jet black hair fell across his face. And she wasn’t the only one to be captivated. Kirsty and Catriona were giggling and even Isla was happy to be getting an eyeful.

‘Right!’ Alastair called, breaking the spell. ‘Ready to move on?’

Sandy waved his walking stick in the air and Mikey quickly folded his things away before joining Connie.

‘All set?’ he asked.

Connie nodded, taking in a great lungful of perfectly pure air and smiling. ‘It’s days like this when you truly believe that all is well with the world,’ she said, ‘and nothing –
nothing
– can ever go wrong again.’

Connie, Mikey, Maggie and Hamish walked in companionable silence, their feet setting a steady rhythm as they left Lochnabrae behind and headed up a steep track through the woods. It was so good to be out in the open, Connie thought. She didn’t walk enough back in LA. All she managed was jogging with her trainer through the park followed by the paparazzi and that wasn’t the same at all. This was real. There were pencil-thin firs and slender silver birches that looked so bright in the spring sunshine and, once they’d walked out of the wood and onto the open moorland, there was the sky. The enormous blue sky. Connie took a deep breath and tried to lock away everything she was seeing so that she’d remember it for ever.

On they walked, covering the miles with easy pleasure. They crossed a tiny stone bridge that straddled a burn they’d been following, the sound of tumbling water filling their ears. The sun was stronger now than when they’d left Lochnabrae and everyone had warmed up and started to shed layers. Bounce was also feeling the heat and charged right into the middle of the burn and drank until everyone felt sure he would burst. Then he bounded out and made sure he was standing in the middle of everyone before shaking, sending a cascade of water over the entire group.

Connie noticed how little groups kept forming as the walk continued. One minute, she’d be chatting to Isla, the next, Alastair would join in and then she’d find herself walking alongside Maggie and Hamish and a new conversation would spring up, but there was one man she never managed to talk to that morning and that was Euan. He seemed to be forever bringing up, the rear, walking at a pace that was somewhere between sedate and sleeping. Perhaps he was finding it tougher than everyone else, Connie thought, although he looked pretty fit. She’d glanced back to smile at him several times but he’d avoided eye contact with her each time. Odd, she thought. They seemed to have got on together so well when trapped in the car during the downpour.

Thinking nothing more of it, Connie marched on until it was time to stop for lunch. Alastair chose a slope of a mountain they’d been climbing. They were high enough up for a fabulous view down into the valley they had been walking through that morning, but sheltered enough so as not to feel the full force of the wind.

Everyone made themselves a little space on the ground, taking off their coats and laying them down to sit upon. For a moment, nobody spoke. There was just stillness here. A curlew cried as it took off from some secret hideaway. A distant sheep bleated and, just above the horizon, a buzzard soared.

Connie sighed as she took in the scene before her. It was all so huge. How many Hollywood mansions would be built on the same amount of space in LA, she wondered? How many swimming pools, liquor stores, malls and rehab centres? Here, it was just the hills, the forests and the clear bright sky.

She took off her coat and lay it on the ground, reclining on top of it with her head upon her arms. She closed her eyes against the warm sun and everything turned orange. Taking a deep breath, she could smell the unmistakable scent of pine trees on the breeze and thought how much lovelier it was than any perfume. She hadn’t felt this calm or peaceful in months. Ever since she’d arrived in Lochnabrae, she had been slowly shedding the layers of stress that had accumulated over so many years.

‘Hey, sleepyhead!’ a voice said.

Connie sat up and shielded her eyes against the light.

‘You should have something to eat before we move on again,’ Maggie told her.

Connie nodded and was just undoing a small rucksack when Bounce bounded up to her and stuck his nose in.

‘Bounce!’ Alastair yelled and the dog backed off reluctantly.

‘Haven’t you got that dog trained yet, Alastair?’ Sandy said with a chuckle.

‘You might be able to direct a troupe of actors but you’re no use with a puppy,’ Angus said, his face dour.

‘He’s young,’ Alastair said.

‘Ah, the excuse of the desperate,’ Sandy said and everyone laughed.

Connie blinked in the brightness and then she remembered something and delved into the depths of her rucksack once more.

‘I’ve brought a few pairs of sunglasses,’ she said, bringing out five beautiful cases. ‘I thought we might need them.’ She handed them out: a pair to Maggie, Kirsty, Catriona and Isla, keeping a pair for herself.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Kirsty said, opening her case and seeing a pair of enormous black Chanel glasses. ‘These are GORGEOUS!’

‘Look at mine!’ Catriona said, revealing a pair of Armani’s.

Maggie and Isla opened theirs and stared in wonder.

‘You can keep them,’ Connie said. ‘I’ve got so many.’

Kirsty was on her feet in an instant and hugged Connie and, not to be outdone, Catriona, Maggie and Isla followed her lead.

Sandy shook his head and laughed. ‘Will you look at that?’ he said, staring at the five of them wearing their designer glasses on the side of a mountain.

A few minutes passed by with nothing heard but the happy munching of sandwiches, crisps and apples. Maggie, who was sitting between Connie and Mikey, had tied her hair back to stop it blowing into her mouth but was still wrapped up like an old woman.

‘Maggie!’ Connie hissed. ‘Take your jumper off.’

‘What?’

‘Take your jumper off!’ Connie mouthed, motioning to her own, which she’d removed and tied around her waist.

Maggie shook her head.

‘You’ve got something on underneath, haven’t you?’

‘Aye. Of course!’

‘Then take the jumper off,’ Connie whispered. ‘It’s lovely and warm. Give your body a chance to breathe,’ she said, eyes sparkling naughtily.

Maggie stuffed the end of her sandwich into her mouth, removed her sunglasses and reluctantly pulled her jumper off over her head. Sandy immediately did a wolf whistle and everyone giggled and Maggie’s face turned the colour of rowan berries, but Connie was encouraged to see that Mikey was watching and he had the kind of smile on his face that was most promising. So, she thought, he was finally beginning to notice Maggie.

The afternoon walk back to Lochnabrae was not quite as easy as the morning session and Connie soon found herself out of breath as Alastair led the way around the side of the boulder-strewn flank of Ben Torran. It was just as well that they weren’t climbing to the top of it, she thought – she might well have disgraced herself. Then, whilst stumbling across a tussocky field, Connie suddenly found herself up to her shins in black mud.

‘Connie!’ Kirsty cried.

‘Grab me!’ Catriona yelled.

‘No, grab me!’ Kirsty said, both of them wading into the mud to rescue their idol.

‘I’m okay!’ Connie assured them as she squelched out onto dry ground.

‘What’s happened?’ Alastair asked, doubling back.

‘Connie’s been swimming in the mud,’ Sandy said with a laugh.

‘You okay?’ Maggie said as she hurried back.

‘I’m fine. Stop fussing, everyone! There’s nothing to worry about,’ Connie said, looking down to inspect the damage. Her boots and trouser legs were completely black.

‘What the heck is that stuff ?’

‘It’s just mud,’ Alastair said.

‘Did you not see it, lass?’ Euan asked, stopping alongside her and looking concerned.

‘Well,’ Connie said, ‘I did but I thought it would be more solid than it was.’ Her face flushed with embarrassment as everyone stood around laughing. Everyone except Euan and Maggie.

‘It’s not funny!’ Maggie said. ‘She could’ve been hurt!’

‘I’m fine,’ Connie said, a smile beginning to form on her own face now that she realised nothing was broken.

‘I don’t expect there’s much mud in Hollywood,’ Alastair teased.

‘No,’ Connie said, ‘but there’s a lot of bullshit.’

This set everyone off laughing again.

‘At least the sun’ll dry you off,’ Maggie said, linking arms with her and leading her on. Catriona quickly skipped forward and linked the other arm and the strange linking trio walked on together as best as they could until they reached a stile. Connie assured them that she could cope on her own but Maggie and Kirsty insisted on helping and the air filled with hands for a mad moment as Connie hopped over. It wasn’t a dissimilar experience to the hysteri-cal fans she encountered outside premieres but, looking at their kind faces, Connie couldn’t help but be moved. Their hands weren’t clawing at her and smothering her like those of her fans in Hollywood. They didn’t want to grab a piece of her – they wanted to help her and that was the wonderful difference about being there.

She spent the rest of the afternoon walking and talking with Maggie, Kirsty and Catriona and, after they’d exhausted everything connected with Hollywood, they turned their attention to more down-to-earth subjects like Mikey.

‘I’ve always thought he was cute,’ Kirsty said. ‘He once kissed me under the mistletoe.’

‘When?’ Maggie asked.

‘Five years ago,’ Kirsty said.

‘And you remember it?’ Connie asked.

‘You always remember a kiss from Michael Shire,’ she said, her eyes wistful.

‘He’s the most gorgeous man for miles around,’ Kirsty said. ‘Not that your brother isn’t cute,’ she added. ‘But Mikey’s something different.’

‘What do you think, Connie?’ Kirsty asked.

Connie cleared her throat, not wanting to upset Maggie. ‘I think he’s very handsome,’ she said.

Connie took a sideways glance at Maggie. She wasn’t looking very happy.

‘How about Alastair,’ Connie suggested and then bit her lip. Why had she said that?

‘Alastair?’ Catriona said. ‘Och, no! He’s like a teacher.’

‘Yeah,’ Kirsty said, ‘he’s so bossy.’

‘But he’s good-looking,’ Connie said, glad that she’d managed to steer the conversation away from Mikey but feeling uneasy in another way now.

‘You like our Alastair, do you?’ Kirsty suddenly said.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Connie said quickly – perhaps a little too quickly.

‘You’ve gone all red!’ Catriona said.

‘Shush!’ Maggie hushed, motioning ahead to where both Mikey and Alastair were walking.

Luckily for Connie, it was time for their afternoon stop and rucksacks were downed and flasks produced for tea.

‘Now, I wonder why we stopped here,’ Sandy said with a chuckle.

‘Because this is the Sprawling Rock,’ Alastair said.

‘Why’s it called that?’ Connie asked.

‘Because I get to sprawl on it!’ Alastair said, lying back on the great slab of sparkling granite that had been warmed by the sun.

‘You can see yer belly!’ Isla shouted and Connie couldn’t help but stare at the few inches of bare flesh that were on display. His T-shirt had ridden up, exposing a good flat stomach.

‘Not bad,’ Kirsty whispered to Connie. ‘For an old man.’

‘He’s not old,’ Connie said.

‘Och, he must be thirty-five at least,’ Kirsty said. ‘But not in bad shape for an oldie.’

Connie rolled her eyes and then realised that Maggie was looking at her.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ Maggie said but there was a little smile growing on her face.

She was glad when they were all on the move again. It was just a short walk down through the valley. The great shadow of Ben Torran made it feel much cooler now and jumpers and jackets were quickly sought.

‘You had a good day, then?’ Alastair asked as he met Connie at a stile. She paused, him on one side and her on the other and, for a brief moment, their fingers touched.