and even sold one to a film company.
‘But the money, Alastair! What are you going to live on?’
‘Fresh air and whisky,’ Alastair had joked.
His mother had gasped in horror.
‘I’ve bought a little crofter’s cottage in the Highlands. It’s as cheap as chips. Won’t cost much to run. It’s perfect.’
But it was no good. For his mother, there was no world outside of Edinburgh. The Highlands? That was a place for tourists. People didn’t really live there, did they?
‘Well, I do,’ Alastair said out loud as he walked. ‘I DO!’ he shouted, his voice echoing beautifully as he neared the loch. He loved that about this place. It made him want to run and shout and be foolish. In short, it made him feel young again. Not that he was exactly over the hill but it was a long time since he’d shouted just for the fun of it.
Connie was walking around the loch when she heard a man shouting.
‘I DO!’
She looked around, expecting to see someone, but there was nobody there. How strange, she thought. Was there some sort of wedding ceremony taking place? It would certainly be a stunning location for it but, as far as she could see, she was the only person there. There wasn’t a single soul around – not in the mountains, by the loch nor even across the other side of the water in Lochnabrae. The whole world felt as if it were sleeping.
Connie took a deep breath, luxuriating in air that didn’t smell of traffic. There was such a stillness here. LA was always in such a rush: people rushing to get to work, to lunch, to the gym, to the dentist’s. There hadn’t been any sign of rushing so far in Lochnabrae, Connie thought. It had been like stepping back in time, which was utterly delightful. Although she was slightly perturbed by the obvious lack of shops. There wasn’t a single coffee bar or deli counter. Probably a small price to pay, she thought to herself, for such blissful calm and not a single long lens in sight. She was sure she could get used to it here.
Trying to put aside all thoughts of what she was going to do when she started to crave a skinny latte, Connie found a group of boulders by the sandy shore of the loch and chose one to sit on. She hoped it was clean because she had put aside her jeans and was wearing very expensive pale blue Chanel trousers and a matching jacket in celebration of the sunshine. Perhaps not the best choice for a walk in the Highlands, she admitted. She’d just have to take care.
She was just looking out across the sheeny water when her mobile beeped. Service! She took it out of her pocket. There hadn’t been any service in the village but there seemed to be a signal at this side of the loch and it appeared that Connie had a heap of messages waiting for her. She sighed. She really should have left her mobile at home or at least in the B&B. For a moment, she deliberated throwing it in the loch but her curiosity got the better of her and she took it out of her jacket pocket. The first message was from her agent.
‘Connie! Where the hell are you? Samantha told me some crap about you taking a vacation? Are you out of your mind? You can’t do this to me. Don’t you realise you have commitments here? I need you to come back—’
Connie deleted the message before getting to the end of it. The next one was from Samantha.
‘I’m so sorry to disturb you, Connie, but Bob’s been on the phone constantly. I told him you were away but he won’t believe me. You’ve got to call him.’
Connie deleted it, and several more irate messages from Bob and anxious messages from Samantha.
The final message was from Forrest Greaves.
‘Babe! Where are you? I can’t stop thinking about you. You looked so hot in that dress at the awards. Give me a call. You know you want to.’
‘Oooo! What a slime ball!’ Connie said, switching her mobile off and stuffing it into her pocket. She still couldn’t believe that she’d fallen for his smarmy charm.
Why couldn’t everyone leave her alone? Couldn’t she just have some time and space to call her own? She got up from the boulder and dusted down the bottom of her pristine trousers. She deserved a break, didn’t she? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken one. She stormed across the beach towards a nearby wood, feeling her stress level soaring. Why did there have to go and be a mobile signal?
Get rid of it, a little voice inside her said. Go on!
‘Right,’ she said, doing an about-turn and heading back to the loch, reaching in her pocket for the intrusive instrument. Taking a deep breath, she stretched her arm back and then flung it as far as she could into the silvery depths of the loch.
It was then that she heard a strange sound. Turning around, she saw a black dog hurtling towards her, its legs and belly covered in thick brown mud.
‘WOOF! WOOF!’ it barked, its great paws eating up the ground as it hurtled full on into the water.
‘What the?’ Connie stared, watching it as it swam out into the loch.
‘BOUNCE!’ a voice called and Connie turned, seeing a dark-haired man emerging from the woods and striding across the sandy shore towards her. ‘Come here, Bounce!’
Connie watched, spellbound as the dog swam on towards the centre of the loch and, only after the man had called his name again, turned and headed back to the shore.
‘Here, Bounce!’ the man yelled but the dog didn’t seem to be listening to him and, as soon as it emerged from the water, it took a few leaps towards Connie and only then did it shake the loch water from its coat.
Connie screamed as the icy, muddy water cascaded over her, splattering her pale outfit.
‘Oh no!’ she cried. ‘No!’ But the dog didn’t seem to understand. In fact, her response only seemed to excite it more and it began leaping towards her, its puppy paws bouncing off the legs of her trousers until they were more black than blue.
Connie flailed her arms about as she tried to shoo the dog away. She’d only ever worked with well-trained animals on film sets and had no idea how to control such a furry ball of frantic energy.
‘BOUNCE!’ the man yelled, running towards the dog and pulling him away, making the dog sit at a safe distance. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said.
Connie looked up, her eyes full of embarrassed fury. Her cheeks were blazing with shock and humiliation. ‘What … Who … Look at the state of my clothes! I’m a mess! That dog is … is out of control!’
The man’s dark eyebrows drew together. ‘I said I was sorry. I couldn’t stop him in time. He’s just a puppy.’
‘He should be on a lead if you can’t take charge of him,’ Connie snapped.
‘You can’t keep a young dog on a lead.’
‘Well, you should’ve stopped him!’
‘He saw you throw something into the loch. He’s a Labrador. They like to retrieve things. He didn’t mean any harm. He was just doing what comes naturally to him.’
‘I’ve heard that line from men before,’ Connie said, ‘and it’s no excuse for bad behaviour!
