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travel-weary hours out of her hair, put on a dash of make-up and rooted around in one of her suitcases for jeans and a shirt. Was it cold outside? The sun was shining but Connie had a feeling that that was nothing to go by in Scotland. What was it her mother used to tell her? ‘If the midges aren’t biting you, Jack Frost is.’
    Finally, she was ready to venture downstairs in search of breakfast.
    ‘Morning, Isla,’ Connie said cheerily.
    ‘Oh, my dear, you’re up already,’ Isla said, turning around from the breakfast table in the front room. ‘CONNIE GORDON!’ Isla exclaimed, dropping the slice of toast she’d been buttering as realisation dawned on her.
    Connie froze.
    ‘Oh, my lordy! It’s Connie Gordon, isn’t it?’
    Connie nodded, her face flushing with embarrassment.
    ‘I didn’t think. I mean, when you said you were Miss Gordon on the phone and last night – I didn’t twig! Oh, how silly of me! How rude you must’ve thought me.’
    ‘No, Isla! Not at all. You gave me such a warm welcome. I couldn’t have asked for a warmer one.’
    ‘But that’s not the same thing at all. I didn’t know who you were.’
    Connie stepped forward and placed a hand on Isla’s arm.
    ‘Oh!’ Isla exclaimed.
    ‘You mustn’t treat me any differently from your other guests.’
    ‘What nonsense!’ Isla said.
    ‘I mean it,’ Connie said, taking a seat at the table. ‘It’s one of the reasons I came here.’
    Isla looked confused. ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘To escape all that. All that sycophancy!’
    ‘I’m not sure I know what that means.’
    Connie smiled. ‘It means endless flattery. I read it in a script once.’
    Isla’s powdered forehead creased. ‘You wanted to escape endless flattery so you came to the headquarters of your fan club? I think you might’ve made a mistake there.’
    ‘You do?’ she said and then sighed. ‘Oh, dear.’
    ‘Oh, aye! Everyone loves you here. Well, apart from Angry Angus – so he says – but I have my suspicions. I was walking by his house just last week and happened to see him watching
Just Jennifer
. He had three cans of lager on his coffee table. He was in it for the long haul,’ Isla said with a smile and a nod.
    Connie grinned. ‘I’m sure everyone will be fine,’ she said. ‘Once they realise I’m just a normal person.’
    ‘But you’re
not
a normal person. You’re a star – a famous movie star.’
    Connie looked across the table at Isla. ‘But I don’t know if that’s really
me
, all the parties and red carpets. I don’t really know who I am and I’ve come here – away from it all – so I can find out.’
    ‘Oh, my poor gal! Well, I’m not sure if I can help you finding out who you are but there’s one thing I can do – and that’s make you a big slap-up breakfast fit for a movie star!’
    ‘Isla!’ Connie protested but it was too late. She’d disappeared into the kitchen at the back of the guest house.
    Connie bit her lip. Maybe she
had
made a big mistake coming here. It had been easy enough to get on a plane and leave Hollywood but it was going to be a lot harder to leave the movie star image behind her.
    Maggie was teetering on top of a stool, stacking boxes of porridge on a high shelf when the shop phone rang. She clambered down to answer it.
    ‘Maggie?’ a voice squealed at the other end.
    ‘Isla?’
    ‘She’s here,’ Isla whispered.
    ‘Who’s here?’
    ‘She!
Her!
’ Isla said, her voice high and excitable.
    ‘Isla, what are you talking about?’
    ‘Connie. Connie Gordon.’
    ‘What? On the telly? Am I missing something?’
    ‘No. Not on the telly. Here. In Lochnabrae. She’s in room number two right now.’
    ‘No!’ Maggie cried.
    ‘Yes. I say, yes!’
    ‘Why didn’t you call me?’
    ‘I am calling you!’ Isla said, perplexed.
    ‘I mean, when she arrived?’
    ‘Well, I didn’t recognise her last night.’
    ‘What do you mean, you didn’t recognise her? She’s Connie Gordon – one of the world’s