Page 65 of Journey to the Scottish Highlands

Cayla was perched on the edge of her bed. She was frowning down at a book in her hands.

‘Cayla?’

When she snapped the book shut, I noticed it was Twelfth Night.

She set it down on the bed covers beside her and looked up through her long fringe. Spotting me, she did a double-take.

‘Look who’s come to see you,’ said Gillian.

Cayla appraised me for a few seconds with wide eyes.

On her bedroom walls were glossy posters of Austin Butler and Millie Bobby Brown. Her framed movie ones ranged from About Time and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers to Notting Hill and My Fair Lady.

Sparkly scarves and chains of multi-coloured, glassy beads were suspended from the mirror of her bedside table over in the corner. Beside that was a bookcase, on which were propped copies of biographies from everyone from Marilyn Monroe to Dame Maggie Smith.

It was at that moment that Gillian took her cue. ‘Tell you what, why don’t I leave you two to have a chat, and I’ll bring up some tea for you both?’

Without waiting for Cayla to reply, I dumped my bag down by my feet. ‘I’d love a cup of tea. Thanks, Gillian. Just milk for me.’

Gillian looked fit to burst with delight. ‘Wonderful.’

She clicked the door shut behind her, leaving me and Cayla.

‘Sorry about that,’ she whispered shyly, her cheeks crimson. ‘I love my Mum, but she can be a bit cringe.’

‘I think most parents are, but they don’t mean to be.’ I shrugged off my pink jacket and set it down on the bed.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Is it ok if I sit down?’ I asked, gesturing to the white chair at her dressing table and not answering her question.

‘Sure.’

Cayla eyed me. ‘’How did you find out where I lived?’

‘Mrs Hazelwood told me.’

I could see her turning this over in her head. ‘You were amazing in Sinister. It was such a cool series.’

‘Thank you. I appreciate that. Pity some of the reviews weren’t as positive.’

‘You got bad reviews?’

‘Fox. I don’t know if you’ve heard of him?’

Cayla rolled her eyes. ‘Isn’t he the prick who has his own column in that newspaper? He doesn’t praise anyone.’

I laughed. ‘Yes, he’s the one.’

Cayla shuffled closer on her bed. ‘So, what’s next for you? What role have you got lined up now? Oh wait. Maybe you can’t tell me! Is it a secret?’

Now it was my turn to adjust my position on the dressing table chair. ‘Taking a bit of a break at the moment.’ I paused. ‘Your Mum said you’ve wanted to get into acting ever since you were younger.’

Cayla fiddled with the corner of her duvet. ‘I did.’ Her words picked up speed. ‘To be honest, the more I think about it, the more I think I’m not good enough.’

‘What makes you say that?’

She didn’t answer.