Part 6 (1/2)

Penelope was in the same gown, but underneath she wore a long silk underdress.

”Cleaning up the act?”

”Oh, we'll have the saucy bits in a set where we can keep the public out,” said Fiona. ”Where's Patricia?”

”Gone home to have a good cry, I should think. Why the h.e.l.l buy her book if you want to change it that much?”

”We wanted a Scottish location, and the plot isn't bad. She should be grateful and shut up.”

The locals were beginning to drift off. It was all very boring. There seemed to be so many takes, so many long pauses, so little action.

Hamish reluctantly decided to go back to the police station and see if he was wanted for any duties.

His uneasy feeling about the whole business was melting away under the sunlight. Patricia now knew the worst and would get over her shock.

He had feared that the arrival of the television company would start up jealousies and rivalries among the village women, but the locals now looked bored with the whole thing.

Above the general store in Drim, Ailsa Kennedy, wife of the proprietor, Jock, was studying her new hairstyle in the mirror and wondering if that cow Alice MacQueen had gone out of her way to sabotage her chances of appearing on television. Before she went to Alice's, her fiery red hair had been long, almost to her waist. Now it had been chopped off and framed her face in one of those oldfas.h.i.+oned sixties styles with flicked-up ends. Alice could only manage oldfas.h.i.+oned styles. Ailsa scowled at her reflection. Her husband's face appeared in the mirror behind her.

”What have you done to your hair?”

”Got it cut,” said Ailsa.

”You look a fright. I thought you said you'd never go near Alice's. It's this stupid fillum, and you're to have nothing to do with it, la.s.s. Did you see thon actress? Near naked, if the minister hadn't made her cover up.”

”Oh, go away,” snapped Ailsa. ”You give me a headache.”

Jamie Gallagher heard the beat of music from the community hall and strolled inside. Village women were performing aerobics under the direction of Edie Aubrey.

He stared at them for a long moment and then went out again to search for Fiona. ”You'll never believe it,” he said when he found her. ”There's a whole time warp o' women in the community hall. You've never seen so many sixties hairstyles.”

”I'll have a look,” said Fiona.

Ailsa Kennedy had just finished was.h.i.+ng out the last of the offending hairstyle and was drying her hair into a smooth bob when she heard her latest friend, Holly Andrews, calling from the shop below. ”Are you up there, Ailsa?”

”Coming,” called Ailsa, brus.h.i.+ng down her hair.

She clattered down the steps to the shop.

Holly was a tubby middle-aged woman who had moved to a little cottage in Drim after the death of her husband. She had lived before his death in a large house on the outskirts of Lairg and after his death had sold up. Her brown hair was done in the same hairstyle that Ailsa had just vigorously washed out.

”What have you done to your hair?” gasped Holly.

”What d'you think? I washed it out. I looked like an aging Beatles fan.”

”They want our hair like this,” shrieked Holly. ”It's so exciting. The film's set in the sixties, and Alice has turned us out in sixties hairstyles because that's as far as she ever got in hairstyling, and the film people are wild about it. We're all to be in crowd scenes.”

Ailsa clutched her now-smooth hair. ”What have I done?”

”Go round to Alice's and get her to do it again,” urged Holly.

Ten minutes later, Alice, with a superior smile on her face, whipped a smock around Ailsa. ”I knew what I was doing,” she said. ”I knew it was set in the sixties.”

Ailsa bit back an angry retort. ”Just get on with it,” she muttered.

Jimmy Macleod, a crofter, listened in horror as his wife, Nancy, teetering on high heels across the stone flags of the kitchen floor, announced that she had a part in the film.

”You're not consorting with naked women and that's that,” said Jimmy.

His wife looked at him contemptuously.

”I'll put a stop to it right now.” He seized his jacket from a peg by the door and strode out.

In her office in Drim Castle, Fiona looked up wearily as Jimmy Macleod was ushered in by Sheila. He was a small man with rounded shoulders, a wrinkled face and an odd crab-like walk.

”Whit's this about putting my wife in a fillum?” demanded Jimmy.

Fiona smiled at him. She had already dealt with two other irate husbands and knew exactly what to do.

”Wait right here,” she commanded. She made her hands into a square and surveyed the now bewildered Jimmy through them. ”Perfect,” she said.

”What are ye talking about, woman?”

”You look the perfect Highlander to me,” said Fiona. ”A very good face for one of our crowd scenes.”

Jimmy looked at her, his mouth open and the anger dying out of his face. ”You will be paid, of course,” said Fiona. ”Yes, we need the n.o.bility of your face. What about a dram, Mr...?”

”Macleod, Jimmy Macleod.” Jimmy scuttled forward and sat down. His heart was beating very hard. He had gone to as many movies as he could afford when he was a boy. He felt as if some fairy had waved a wand and transformed him into Robert Redford. Fiona poured him a generous measure of whisky.

”Here's to a successful show,” said Fiona.

”Aye,” said Jimmy, a smile cracking his walnut face. ”Here's tae the fillum business.”

”Film business,” said Fiona, ”of which you are now a member.”

And Jimmy thought his heart would burst with pride.

Jamie Gallagher was swollen up with vanity and whisky. He felt he could have turned out the whole television series on his own. Had he not told the director which camera angles should be used? But going over the day's rushes, Fiona had objected to several of his choices, although the final choice would lie with Harry Frame.

Jamie left the bar of the Tommel Castle Hotel and went up to his room, where he phoned Harry Frame.

”We've a good team up here, Harry,” he said. ”But there's one person I cannae get along with and that's Fiona. She'll have to be replaced.”

Harry's voice squawked objections at the other end. The publicity had gone out with Fiona's name on it. Jamie finally threatened to pull out of the series, and Harry capitulated.

Fiona listened to Harry ten minutes later on her mobile phone. ”You can't do this to me, Harry,” she said.

”I'm afraid I have to, luv. I'll find something else for you.”

”I'll kill Jamie,” said Fiona.