care of the website and answer letters and things.’
‘It’s Maggie’s bedroom,’ Isla said.
‘It’s not my bedroom. I moved the HQ into the spare room at the front of the house,’ Maggie said.
‘Well,’ Connie said, ‘I don’t suppose there’s any harm in seeing the HQ, is there?’
‘Great!’ Maggie said, clapping her hands together and only just stopping herself from jumping up and down on the spot in excitement. ‘Will we go now?’
‘Right now?’
Maggie nodded and grinned.
‘I guess I didn’t have any other pressing engagements,’ Connie said.
‘Brilliant! Oh, this is so much fun. You’re going to love it, I know you will.’
‘Will you be having lunch here, Ms Gordon?’ Isla asked.
‘It’s Connie. Please call me Connie.’
Isla smiled and nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I hadn’t really thought about lunch. Or eating. I don’t suppose there’s a restaurant here?’
‘In Lochnabrae?’ Maggie laughed. ‘You must be joking. There’s The Capercaillie.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The local pub but they only do baskets of chips and pies.’
‘Right,’ Connie said, wrinkling her nose.
‘I don’t suppose you eat that kind of thing,’ Maggie said.
‘I – well – I could give it a go, couldn’t I? I mean, I’m on holiday, right?’
‘Right!’ Maggie said. ‘We could get the fan club together in the pub. That would be fun, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t be official or anything – just a gathering of friends, really.’
‘Och, Maggie – will you let the gal settle in before you go parading her before the whole of Lochnabrae?’
‘Oh,’ Maggie said, looking somewhat crestfallen.
‘I will meet them,’ Connie said. ‘I promise.’
‘Okay,’ Maggie said. ‘I mean, we don’t really need to rush. I can keep you all to myself for a while, can’t I?’
Connie swallowed.
‘Oh, dear,’ Maggie said, ‘that sounded a little bit like that film, Misery, didn’t it – where the fan kidnaps that writer and ties him up and everything?’
‘Well, just a little bit,’ Connie admitted.
‘But I’m nothing like that. Honestly. I promise I won’t lock you up or prevent you from leaving or anything. You’re free to come and go as you please,’ Maggie laughed. ‘As long as you tell me first.’
Connie looked at Maggie.
‘I’m joking!’
‘Right!’ Connie said, giving a nervous laugh.
‘Now, come and see the HQ,’ Maggie said, opening the door and leading Connie outside.
When they were both in the street, Maggie couldn’t help noticing that Connie was peering at her neckline.
‘What’s wrong?’ Maggie asked.
Connie frowned. ‘I think your jumper’s on back to front.’
Chapter Eight
Maggie Hamill had never felt more important in her life than right there and right then – walking down the main street of Lochnabrae with Connie Gordon by her side. She could hardly believe it and kept taking little sideway glances at her companion just to make sure she wasn’t imagining the whole thing.
They walked by a row of white cottages between the bed and breakfast and Maggie’s shop and she couldn’t help hoping that they wouldn’t bump into anyone. Please don’t make Mrs Wallace be twitching her curtains now, Maggie begged. Or old Mr Finlay. Not that he’d recognise Connie but that wouldn’t stop him waylaying them. If there was one thing old Mr Finlay appreciated, it was a pretty young girl. Maggie shook her head as she thought of the time he’d managed to trap her as she was turning around from the chilled cabinet.
‘My my,’ he’d said, ‘but you’re a bonny lass, Maggie Hamill.’
Maggie had tried to move away from him but that would have meant sitting on the pork pies.
No, she thought, she couldn’t subject Connie to old Mr Finlay.
Unfortunately, just as Maggie thought they were safe, she heard his front door open.
‘Hello there, Maggie!’ he called, shaking his walking stick in the air and making his way hastily down the path. He really could move at an alarming speed when he wanted to.
‘Hello, Mr Finlay,’ Maggie said, with a resolute smile on her face. ‘Don’t let him near you,’ she whispered to Connie.
‘What?’
But it was too late to explain because Mr Finlay was upon them.
‘Why now,’ he said, his thin face creasing into a slavering sort of smile, ‘here’s a bonny lass I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting.’ And, before Maggie could even introduce them properly, he’d taken one of Connie’s hands and had suckered his mouth to it.
‘Oh!’ Connie exclaimed, doing her best to pull it away but not succeeding. His grip was iron-fast.
‘What a soft hand you have and what a lovely wee face. And what might you be doing here in Lochnabrae?’
‘Connie’s having a holiday,’ Maggie explained, ‘and we were just about to go out so if you’ll excuse us, Mr Finlay.’ Maggie grabbed Connie’s other arm but Mr Finlay still had hold of her and, for a few seconds, there was a bit of a tug of war until Maggie won with one colossal tug.
‘I’ll see you again!’ Mr Finlay said ominously.
‘Quick!’ Maggie said. ‘Before he follows us into the shop. We’ll never get rid of him if he makes it over the threshold.’
Connie allowed Maggie to drag her to safety.
‘I’m so sorry about that!’ Maggie said once they were safely behind the locked door of the shop. ‘He means well but he can be a wee bit – er – intense at times.’
‘Is he always so attentive?’ Connie asked, wiping her hand on her jeans.
‘Yes. As long as you’re female.’
Connie nodded. ‘I
