‘Didn’t I say?’ Maggie said. ‘I told Connie she should buy this place! And I just knew she’d be here tonight.’
‘Did you?’ Connie said.
‘Well, I wasn’t sure but I hoped for it – I hoped for it so much!’ Maggie said, a huge grin plastered on her face.
‘So, you’re staying?’ Mikey asked.
Alastair watched Connie closely for her response and saw her swallow.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ she said.
It was then that Euan stepped out from the shadows and the room was so quiet you could have heard the wings of a bat beating if one had decided to fly down from the battlements at that precise moment.
‘Connie, lass,’ he said, ‘I wish you’d stay.’
‘You do?’ Connie said.
‘Aye,’ Euan said. ‘I do. There’s so much I want to say to you. So much time we need to make up for.’
Connie gave a little nod. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I was thinking about it on the way to the airport. I felt awful about the way I ran out on you today. I hope you can forgive me. It was just – well – there was so much to take in.’
Euan nodded. ‘I fear I may have surprised you.’
‘You did,’ Connie said with a little smile.
Euan moved forward a fraction and extended his right hand. Connie bit her lip and moved to meet him halfway. Alastair watched as their hands met in an awkward handshake and then something wonderful happened: Euan wrapped his arms around Connie and hugged her.
Hamish gasped and Maggie gave a small cry, her eyes glistening with tears.
When they parted and Euan took a step back, it was clear that Connie also had tears in her eyes and, automatically, Alastair reached inside his jacket pocket and retrieved a neatly folded tissue, stepping forward and handing it to her.
‘Here,’ he said.
She took it from him and dabbed her eyes. ‘I’ve done nothing but cause chaos since I got here,’ Connie said.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Alastair said. ‘There’s been some laughter too, hasn’t there?’
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes huge with emotion and he felt a strange tugging that meant he couldn’t move.
‘Connie,’ he said, ‘don’t go.’
At first, she didn’t reply but then, slowly, she spoke. ‘Well, I haven’t made my mind up yet,’ she said. ‘I mean, I couldn’t go tonight. I knew that was wrong.’
‘I mean ever. Don’t go ever,’ Alastair said.
Again, there was silence as Alastair and the others stared at the beautiful woman before them who suddenly didn’t look like a movie star at all but very much like a friend whom they didn’t want to lose.
‘Maggie’s right,’ Alastair said at last.
Connie looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
Alastair swallowed and took a deep breath. ‘We all love you,’ he said.
Connie didn’t reply and a cold chill passed over Alastair. Was it too late? Had he messed up good and proper this time? Perhaps nothing would make a difference now. Unless …
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I think I fell in love with you the very first time I saw you at the loch – when Bounce jumped all over you, remember?’
Connie nodded and her pale face flooded with colour and a smile like a beautiful rainbow danced across it.
‘And I can’t say how sorry I am for not telling you the truth about Sara,’ he said. ‘It was stupid of me and I should have told you when she arrived but I was too scared of what you’d think. But I can promise you that nothing happened because I was in love with you. Am in love with you,’ he said. ‘And Sara knows that. I told her before she left today.’
Connie took a deep breath and then spoke. ‘And I should have given you a chance to explain. I shouldn’t have run away like I did. I have this habit of running away, don’t I?’
Alastair smiled. ‘But you came back. You came back to your home.’
‘And I want to stay,’ she said. ‘I want to stay so much!’
Suddenly, Alastair caught her up in a tight embrace, spinning her around in his arms until they were both dizzy. Not wanting to be left out, Maggie leapt forward and Hamish too and, so as not to miss out, Euan and Mikey joined in, making a rugby scrum of laughter and tears in the middle of the castle.
‘We love you, Connie!’ Maggie shouted above the chaos. ‘We all love you!’
Chapter Forty-Three
A few weeks later …
‘I must be mad,’ Connie said as she picked up a small boulder that looked as if it should be halfway up a mountain rather than in a room that purported to be a kitchen. ‘What do I know about restoring a castle?’
‘About as much as I do about writing a novel,’ Alastair said.
Connie looked at him and smiled. ‘Your novel is going to be great,’ she said. ‘You just have to remember to write in chapters rather than scenes.’
‘Isn’t writing a novel a bit of a lonely business?’ Isla asked from the other side of the room where she was attacking a wall covered in cobwebs with the help of Kirsty and Catriona. ‘Won’t you get bored working on your own all day?’
‘If I get lonely or bored, you’ll find me in The Bird,’ Alastair said.
‘You could write it in the pub,’ Sandy said, ‘then we could all help you.’
Alastair grimaced. ‘If that happened, I’d end up writing something that was part musical, part western.’
‘Aye,’ Sandy said, ‘Mrs Wallace would make sure all your characters looked just like her, and Angus would have them all striding about at noon with guns.’
Angus, who’d been chipping away at some old plaster in the corner of the room, looked around. ‘I’ve got a nice collection of western novels if you’d like to read them for some ideas,’ he said.
‘Thank you, Angus. If I get stuck, I’ll know where to come.’
‘Write a nice romance,’ Maggie said from the large fireplace where she was sweeping with Mikey. ‘Everyone loves a romance.’
Mikey winked at her.
‘What will you do, Connie?’ Hamish asked. He was perched up on a ladder clearing a shelf of dusty glass bottles and Bounce was sitting watching, his once shiny nose now matte with dust.
‘Well,’ Connie said, retying her ponytail, ‘I was thinking of retiring from acting.’
All of a sudden, the old kitchen filled with outraged voices.
‘No!’
‘You can’t retire, lass!’
‘You’re only a youngster.’
‘Oh, don’t stop acting, Connie!’
Connie placed her dusty hands on her hips. ‘You seem to forget that I’ve been working since I was six years old. I’m getting a wee bit tired of it,’ Connie said and then she gasped. ‘I said “wee”.’
‘You’re turning native,’ Maggie pointed out proudly.
‘I think I might be.’
‘You’ll be “ayeing” and “oching” all over the place before you know it,’ Hamish teased, causing Kirsty to give a cobwebby laugh.
‘And there’s nothing wrong with that,’ Euan said. ‘Don’t forget, she’s as Scottish as any of us here.’
Connie smiled and blushed with happiness. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I might not retire completely but I’m going to take a good break and do up this castle. Then I’m going to choose my projects really carefully.’
‘You’re leaving that horrible agent of yours, aren’t you?’ Isla asked.
Connie nodded. ‘I am,’ she said. ‘He can inflict The Pirate’s Wife on some desperate young actress who isn’t quite as picky as me.’
‘But you’ll still do a western one day?’ Angus asked.
Connie grinned. ‘I’ll look out for a script,’ she said. ‘I promise.’
‘What about Twelfth Night, Alastair?’ Hamish asked. ‘Are we still going ahead with it?’
Alastair ran a hand through his dark hair. ‘Well, I’ve been having a chat with Connie and we’ve decided to swap roles.’
‘What do you mean?’ Catri
ona asked.
‘My novel’s going to take up quite a bit of my time and I’ve decided to take a smaller role in the play.’
‘Who’s playing Orsino, then?’
‘I am!’ Mikey said from the fireplace, causing Maggie to beam with pleasure. ‘I know I haven’t made many rehearsals but that’s going to change.’
‘So, you’re not directing?’ Euan asked Alastair.
Alastair shook his head. ‘You’re going to have a brand new director.’
‘Who?’ Isla asked.
‘Me,’ Connie said.
‘Connie! That’s brilliant,’ Maggie said. ‘Then you’re defi-nitely staying?’
‘I’m staying put until after Christmas,’ she said. ‘But I’ll have to make a trip to LA in the New Year. There’s so much to sort out and I’m going to see my mother too.’ Connie looked across the room at Euan who smiled at her with pride.
‘Does that mean you’re not playing Viola?’ Sandy asked.
‘Well, I’ve been thinking about that and Alastair and I think I could do both.’
Everyone started talking at once again and Connie grinned at them.
‘You’re all going to have to help me because I’m new to directing and you all know I’m struggling with Shakespeare.’
‘You’ll be brilliant!’ Hamish said.
‘You’ll be the best director we’ve ever had!’ Maggie said. ‘After Alastair, I mean,’ she added.
‘Tell them about the village hall,’ Alastair said to Connie.
She nodded. ‘Oh, yes! Seeing as I’m getting a load of builders and decorators in, I thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea for them to do up the village hall too.’
Everyone looked at each other and then an almighty cheer went up.
Connie laughed. ‘If I’m going to be spending any amount of time in that place, it’s got to have proper heating!’ she said. ‘And there’s another thing I was going to get your opinion on.’
‘What’s that?’ Alastair asked.
‘If I can get planning permission for the great hall or salon, I was thinking about having a cinema here in the castle.’
A stunned silence greeted Connie’s announcement.
‘A cinema?’ Kirsty said at last. ‘Here in Lochnabrae?’
Connie nodded. ‘With a popcorn machine and those nice red velvety seats and everything.’
Kirsty’s eyes doubled in size and suddenly she was leaping about and everyone was joining in, laughing, cheering and whoop-whooping.
‘Civilisation comes to Lochnabrae,’ Angus said once everyone had calmed down. ‘Just one thing, Connie. You will be—’
‘Showing westerns?’ Connie said. ‘Bet on it!’ And she held a very dusty hand out to shake Angus’s even dustier one.
It was a sunny spring day with a sky the colour of forget-me-nots and, after a morning of clearing as much dust and debris as they could, everyone collapsed on a grassy bank outside for a picnic made up by Connie, Maggie and Isla earlier that morning.
Maggie sat with Mikey, the two of them looking like a pair of lovebirds, Hamish was sitting with Kirsty, picking cobwebs out of her hair, and Bounce was rolling on his back in a patch of cool grass that smelt of rabbits. And Connie? She was sitting with Alastair.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Connie said. ‘It’ll make things much easier if I actually live in the castle.’
Alastair almost choked on his sandwich. ‘You’re joking!’ he said. ‘You can’t live here until it’s properly restored. The place is lethal.’
Connie looked up at the soaring turrets and sighed. ‘I suppose,’ she said.
‘You stay at Isla’s until things are safe here,’ Alastair said. ‘Unless—’
‘Unless what?’ Connie said.
‘Unless you move in with me.’
Connie looked shocked for a moment. ‘But your place is tiny.’
‘Aye, well, I’ll admit there’s not much room but I did manage to fit a double bed in it,’ he said with a smile. ‘Just in case a beautiful Hollywood actress came my way, you understand.’
‘But aren’t they a rare breed up here?’ Connie asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Alastair said, leaning forward and kissing her. ‘You’ve just got to know where to look.’
VICTORIA’S TOP TEN ESCAPES
Scotland
I fell in love with Scotland the first time I visited it as a child with my family and I’ve been back many times since then. The Highlands and islands are particularly beautiful with deep blue lochs and fabulous white beaches. Skye and Mull are favourite destinations and the little village of Plockton helped inspire Lochnabrae.
Suffolk
Like Connie Gordon, I recently ran away – swapping the London suburbs for rural Suffolk. My husband and I now have views across fields of horses at the front of our cottage and apple and cherry orchards at the back. Suffolk boasts some beautiful rolling countryside, fabulous medieval buildings and a gorgeous coastline.
Dorset
I’ve set several novels in Dorset now and visit as often as I can. I adore Lyme Regis, and the Marshwood Vale is a favourite place to walk with its bluebell woods, hedgerows full of cow parsley and red campion and its views stretching to the sea.
The Yorkshire Dales
I spent six years in the Dales and even got married in a medieval castle in Wensleydale. I never tire of its landscape with its craggy limestone pavements and beautiful waterfalls.
Venice
I think Venice is the most beautiful city in the world. I love the architecture and the rich colours of the buildings and all the reflections. It’s also wonderfully easy to get lost in the backstreets of Venice. Just dare to venture off the beaten track a little and you’ll find a magical mask shop or a forgotten canal.
My garden
Nothing beats sitting in the garden on a warm summer’s day, surrounded by roses and watching our hens. Last year, we rescued some ex-battery hens and it’s an absolute delight to watch them pecking around the garden and taking dust baths. It’s so easy to forget everything else when you’re in a beautiful garden.
The coast
We’re so lucky in the UK because you’re never far from a fabulous beach. My favourite coastlines include Pembrokeshire, Dorset, Chichester Harbour, and the north Norfolk coast. With the sea breeze in your hair and sand between your toes, the coast is one of the best places to run away to.
A stately home
I adore old buildings – anything from crumbling medieval castles to elegant Georgian manor houses. Favourites include Snowshill Manor in Gloucestershire, Trerice in Cornwall, Blickling Hall in Norfolk and Haddon Hall in Derbyshire. They’re perfect places in which to escape the twenty-first century.
Our front room by the fire with a good film
We’ve just moved to a nineteenth-century cottage and have a real fire and I love losing myself in a good film with the fire roaring beside me.
The bath
I love taking long, warm baths with a good book! It’s the ultimate in escape and is a little luxury that everyone should enjoy.
Acknowledgements
My sincerest thanks to Linda Gillard and Mags Wheeler who helped enormously with all my Scottish-related questions. And to Keith Lumsden at Scottish Tartans World Register. Any mistakes are of my own making!
Thanks to Sarah Jane Pearson for helping me to sort out Maggie’s fleecy hair.
To Britta Horn and Sarah Duncan for acting expertise and to Elizabeth Law for introducing me to the wonderful book, Act One by Moss Hart – a must for anyone with an interest in the theatre.
To my husband, Roy, for the inspirational writing holidays that helped get this novel written, and to Clive and Sheila for their fabulous cottage in which I wrote so much of it.
To my lovely writer friends Deborah Wright and Ruth Saberton for constant encouragement and lovely days out away from the desk.
And special thanks to Annette Green, Ronit Zafran, Keshini Nadoo and Caroline Hogg and all the team at Avon.
Special thanks to all my lovely readers on Facebook and Twitter. It’s always so good to hear from you. You make all those hours in isolation worthwhile.
And heartfelt thanks to my mum and Wyn who are always first in line for my new book.
I would also like to remember my two dear Scottish gentlemen – now departed and greatly missed: Alex Roan and my grandpa, Harold Forsyth. Both shared their great love of Scotland and their Scottish heritage with me. I haven’t managed to buy that ‘Ring of Bright Water’ cottage yet but the dream is still there.
About the Author
Victoria Connelly was brought up in Norfolk and studied English literature at Worcester University before becoming a teacher in North Yorkshire. After getting married in a medieval castle and living in London for eleven years, she moved to rural Suffolk with her artist husband and ever-increasing family of animals. She has had three novels published in Germany – the first of which was made into a film.
To find out more about Victoria Connelly please visit www.victoriaconnelly.com
By the same author
A Weekend with Mr Darcy
The Perfect Hero
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
AVON
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
77–85 Fulham Palace Road,
London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
A Paperback Original 2012
1
First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsPublishers 2012
Copyright © Victoria Connelly 2012
Victoria Connelly asserts the moral right to
be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
EPub Edition © APRIL 2012 ISBN: 978-0-00744-322-2
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