The Runaway Actress

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Victoria’s Top Ten Escapes (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

By the same author (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

Maggie Hamill stared out of the window at the great green hills beyond the loch. The third bedroom really did have the best view from the house and she was glad she’d moved into it. There was only one problem: it was such a gorgeous distraction that it was sometimes hard to get on with her work and she had plenty to be getting on with. Only that morning, she’d received half a dozen letters – all with requests for signed photographs.

Dear Ms Gordon, the first one began. I’m a huge fan of your films and think you’re the most beautiful actress in the world. Would it be possible to send me a signed photograph of yourself ? I enclose a cheque for £10 for your Theatre Charity and look forward to hearing from you soon and, if you ever happen to be in Portsmouth, give me a call on the above number, won’t you? I know a fabulous restaurant where we can talk in private.

I bet you do, Maggie said to herself. Still, it was quite tame as fan letters went and she pulled out a ten by eight glossy photograph from the top drawer of her desk. It was one of her personal favourites – a close-up shot of Connie Gordon with her long red hair cascading over her shoulders. Maggie sighed as she flicked her own dark mane away from her face, wishing she had fine silky, well-behaved sort of hair rather than a sheep’s fleece straggling down her back.

Reaching for her silver pen, she paused, bit her lip and then signed across the bottom right-hand corner.

With love from Connie xx

‘There you are, Mr Forbes from Portsmouth. You’re going to love that!’

She was just about to stuff it into an envelope when the shop bell tinkled. Leaping to her feet, she left the room and ran down the stairs.

‘Ah, good morning, Mrs Wallace,’ Maggie said as Lochnabrae’s biggest gossip entered the shop. She was wearing the yellow raincoat she never left home without and her tight perm had been squashed under a headscarf. ‘You’re bright and early this morning.’

‘Not as early as Euan, though,’ Mrs Wallace said, her formidable bosom rising with pleasure at being able to impart such news. ‘I see he’s been in already.’

Maggie nodded at Mrs Wallace’s comprehensive knowledge of the goings on of Lochnabrae’s inhabitants.

‘Well now, I hope he’s left some tobacco for my Wallace.’

‘There’s plenty left,’ Maggie said, picking up a packet of what she knew to be Mr Wallace’s chosen brand and handing it over the counter.

‘And how’s the fan club going?’ Mrs Wallace asked. ‘Any sign of Connie Gordon yet?’ she asked with a little chuckle, knowing full well what the answer would be.

‘No, Mrs Wallace, I’m afraid not. I don’t think she’ll be gracing our community for a while.’

‘Och well, what would her sort do here, eh?’

Maggie shrugged. She’d often wondered herself. What, indeed, would a Hollywood movie star do in a place like Lochnabrae?

‘I’ve just written to her again,’ Maggie said.

‘Have you now?’