Page 72 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

It only took a few seconds for Ezra to consider this. “Good grief. Yes, I have. Kenneth Braid was one of the seedy lowlifes who exploited the models at the agency I worked for when I started out.”

“And you’ve spoken about him in your autobiography.”

Ezra nodded, while I just listened.

Zach eyed Ezra. “What if I told you that Brad Janson’s real name was Nicholas Braid?”

Ezra’s head snapped from me to Zach and back again. “They’re related?”

“Yep. He’s Kenneth Braid’s son. It looks like he arranged for that script to be stolen, so that you would be discredited and so would the revelations you make about him in your autobiography.”

Ezra let out a furious gasp. “Good grief. I’ve had entertainment industry friends begin to shun me since this nonsense happened. It’s been most unpleasant. A real whispering campaign. That’s when I knew I had to get away.” His jaw ground. “Well, when I say friends…”

Zach shook his head. “Brad doesn’t care if he ruins Mr King’s career by protecting his father. In fact, that was his aim, until we leant on one of the executives from that night and he told us everything. We just have to confirm a few things, before we go to print on a story that exposes them, not you.”

“This is insane,” breathed Ezra. He rubbed his craggy face and stared around himself at Flower Power’s interior. He let out a desperate groan. “Dear God! What do we do now?”

Zach turned to me. “It’s not only Brad Janson who has a vested interest in having Mr King’s book discredited. There are others. And according to my sources, they’re prepared to do just about anything to make that happen.”

I rose up from my seat and leant on the counter, mad thoughts hurtling through my head.

“Well, whatever these cretins have up their sleeve, I’m not prepared to curtail my life just to suit them. I have a small, private party taking place on New Year’s Eve at my home,” said Ezra, haughtily.

“Do you think that’s wise?” asked Zach.

Ezra shrugged. “What else can I do? Cave into their demands? It’s not like I’m inviting all of the acting fraternity; just a few of my closest friends and entertainment and publishing associates.”

I tried not to smile. It didn’t sound too small a soirée from where I was standing.

While Ezra and Zach’s voices melted around me, I desperately wanted to help Ezra, and an idea was nudging its way to the forefront of my mind.

It could well be risky, Ezra holding his Hogmanay get-together at his home here in Heather Moore. Bannock House, however, would be a perfect alternative. Holding it there meant we could control the security, the guest list, everything. Ezra would still be throwing his party, but just at a different location. There was only one giant snag in that plan.

I’d lose my anonymity. I’d have to come clean about who I was.

I swallowed, trying to muster as much courage as I could. I knew I couldn’t keep my past life a secret anymore. I had to accept that my past was part of me, but that it didn’t have to define me. Running away wasn’t a solution. I’d been deluding myself for too long. And anyway, I didn’t want to keep deceiving Zach. It had begun to feel wrong now – deceitful, in some way.

I’d been very lucky to hide my past for as long as I had. Wouldn’t it be better if Zach heard it from me, rather than some stranger?

All the stress of hiding was squeezing the breath from me. I couldn’t continue living like this. It had taken this precarious situation with Ezra to make me realise what I had to do. He’d looked so cornered when he learnt that Zach had first arrived here in Heather Moore, and I didn’t want to feel like that. I wanted to be strong and capable. I wanted to be free.

I took a breath and pushed out the words before I could change my mind.

“Ezra, your party is supposed to be taking place at your home.”

“Yes, that’s right,” faltered Ezra.

I shook my head. “I suggest you invite your friends over to my family home. I don’t think holding it at your place is a good idea. Not when you consider what your book contains and these people could well have discovered your address by now anyway.”

I carried on, aware that both Ezra and Zach were studying me with confused expressions. “If these people realise you’re not going to surrender to their threats and redact the stories about them in your book, things could turn nasty. At least this way, you just invite your small gathering to my family home and there’s no need to draw attention to where you live here.”

Zach jerked his head to look at me as though I’d lost all sense of reality. “Your family home?” he repeated. “I’m confused. You mean your flat upstairs?”

I shook my head. “No.” Then I fetched my laptop from its leather case under the counter. I set it up and twisted it round for both of them to see the screen and typed Bannock House into the search engine. My heart was jumping. I felt sick.

I clicked on one photograph and enlarged it. The solid grey stone of my family home filled the screen.

“Whoa!” Zach said, laughing. “That’s some place. Where’s that?”