her hair all loose and curly.’
Soon, the bed was strewn with gowns. Golds, silvers, greens and blues, satins, laces and velvets. Maggie was almost jumping up and down with excitement and both women lost themselves in the moment, surrounded by the kinds of couture they’d only ever glimpsed in magazines.
‘Do you think I could try one on?’ Maggie asked, fingering a lacy gown in emerald-green.
‘Well, I don’t think you should,’ Isla said, trying to be stern.
Maggie’s face fell. To be so close to so many beautiful dresses and not to be allowed to try them on …
‘Oh, go on then!’ Isla suddenly said. ‘Just one!’
Maggie squealed and began disrobing quickly.
She’d just got down to her thermal undies when the front door slammed.
‘She’s back!’ Isla gasped.
Maggie’s eyes doubled in size. ‘Quick!’ she said. ‘Put the dresses away!’
Isla began stuffing the gowns back in the suitcase as Maggie hurriedly put her clothes back on, falling onto the bed as she dragged her jeans up her legs and causing a zip-rip of static as she pulled on her jumper.
‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ Isla whispered and the two of them legged it onto the landing.
‘Where is she?’ Maggie said, relieved that they hadn’t been caught.
‘She must still be downstairs,’ Isla said, locking Connie’s bedroom door as quietly as she could.
The two of them crept down the stairs and, there by the door, stood Connie Gordon, examining her trousers with a defeated look on her face.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said, looking up.
Isla nodded. Maggie just stared.
‘Are you all right?’ Isla asked. ‘Did you have a nice walk?’
‘Yes,’ Connie said. ‘Well, apart from the complete madman I met by the loch.’
Maggie and Isla looked at each other.
‘Angus?’ Isla said.
‘I didn’t ask his name,’ Connie said. ‘And he didn’t volunteer it. But he had a dog with him. A black one.’
Maggie’s eyes widened. ‘Bounce?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘The dog’s name,’ Maggie said. ‘That’d be Alastair’s. Alastair’s your madman. Well, he’s a writer actually but that’s the same thing as a madman, isn’t it?’
‘You look like a Dalmatian,’ Isla said, gazing at Connie’s trousers.
‘I’ve got to get out of them. They’re sticking to my legs,’ Connie said.
Isla and Maggie were still standing at the foot of the stairs.
‘Can I get by?’ Connie asked.
‘Oh!’ Maggie exclaimed. ‘Sorry.’ She moved out of the way.
‘I’ll be down again in a minute then we can meet properly,’ Connie said with a smile, disappearing up the stairs.
‘Oh my God!’ Maggie whispered. ‘It’s really her, isn’t it?’ she said to Isla.
‘Well, I told you it was,’ Isla said. ‘Isn’t she beautiful? I mean, apart from those trousers.’
‘Do you think she’ll get them clean or just throw them away? Some stars do that, don’t they? If they get a speck of dirt on something or a little snag, they put it in the bin. Can I have them if she does?’ Maggie asked. ‘I wouldn’t mind if the mud never came out.’
‘Completely ruined!’ Connie’s voice suddenly called down the stairs. ‘I’ll have to chuck them.’
Maggie’s eyes widened with joy as she immediately started planning what she could wear with them. However, looking at the svelte figure coming down the stairs, it dawned on her that she might actually be a couple of sizes out of the trousers’ league. She gazed at the fabulously skinny pair of jeans Connie was now wearing and immediately promised herself that cream cakes were a thing of the past.
‘At least I’m dry now,’ Connie said, joining Maggie and Isla in the hallway. ‘And now we can say hello properly.’
‘I’m Maggie,’ Maggie said, not wanting to wait a moment longer than she had to. ‘Maggie Hamill.’ She stepped forward, her right foot catching on the hallway rug, causing her to plummet towards Connie.
‘Careful!’ Connie gasped, getting a mouthful of dark hair.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m Maggie.’
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you. You write the letters, don’t you?’
Maggie nodded. ‘Astonishing!’ she said.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You being here.’
‘But you did invite me.’
‘Yes! I just never thought you’d come,’ Maggie said. ‘I mean, I hoped you would.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t ring to tell you first. It was a kind of spur of the moment thing but that’s all right, isn’t it?’ Connie asked.
Maggie nodded, a huge smile plastered on her face.
Connie sniffed. ‘You’re wearing Wishes!’ she said.
Maggie gulped. ‘Yes.’
‘I wear that too!’
‘You do?’
‘It’s my favourite scent. I take it wherever I go.’
Maggie bit her lip, and quickly changed the subject. ‘I wish you’d told us you were coming. I feel awful not meeting you last night.’
‘Hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t need a welcoming committee,’ Connie said.
‘It’s funny you should use that word,’ Isla said.
‘What word?’ Connie asked.
‘Committee. We have a Connie Committee, don’t we, Maggie?’
‘Oh! Yes, we do. It’s really just the fan club organisers. You’ll have to meet them. They’d all love to meet you. They won’t believe you’re here.’
‘There’s no rush for that, is there?’ Connie said. ‘I was kinda hoping to find my feet first – get to know the area a bit and relax.’
‘Oh,
