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Suddenly the hooded figure appeared in a faint form, kneeling in front of her. Feeling her heart pounding but holding her breath, Gina glared. The woman’s blue eyes, pierced up at her from her hood. She wasn’t as old as her shape suggested, maybe ten years older than herself, just unkempt, but there was a fine-boned face under the sallow skin. Her deep set eyes shone with desperation, her rounded shoulders appeared sharp, barely fleshed under what looked like a hessian sacking. Gaping down, Gina writhed as the woman spread out her cloak, revealing curled fingers that were clutching something which she began thrusting – a bag, a package – out towards her.
Gina’s hand shot over her dry mouth and she swallowed.
‘What do you want?’ she found herself asking. ‘Do you need help?’ she whispered. ‘You’re scaring me.’ She released her breath.
Gina shook her head, blinking several times. The figure then began fading as it floated out to the lake disappearing but the presence remained palpable.
Gina sat fixed to the bench, knees still up and feet resting on the bench. Help, she screamed inside, but was unable to move.
In an attempt to calm herself, she breathed in and out slowly. The dense air thinned.
‘Shit, I need a drink,’ she blurted out and dashed away from the bench and ran into the hotel.
Quickly scanning the reception for her brother or parents, she scrambled up the steps through the salon and out to the terrace. She peered down at the empty bench. Whoever she was, she’d gone. Gina scrambled to the nearest seat at the bar, relieved to know she was in the land of the living. Heads spun in her direction, sensing her panic. As she perched on the stool she peered around her.
The barman in uniform – black and gold brocade waistcoat – headed towards her from behind the bar, his forehead forming lines across it as he spoke.
‘Are you OK?’
Gina swung round her head. ‘Yes, fine. I’m fine. I’m sho…fine. Thank you.’ Her head shook a dazed nod as if to satisfy the spectators. ‘Can I have a vodka and slim-line tonic please?’
‘Yes, Mademoiselle.’ He smiled with kind dark eyes, reaching for a tall glass. Then a familiar voice sounded behind her.
‘Gina, what is it?’ Her mother rushed up, cradling her daughter’s slender shoulders.
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I got a bit hot outside. I must’ve looked a bit flushed as I came in, that’s all.’
‘Aunt Bernie said you tore in like you were being chased by a lion.’
‘What? No, she’s being silly. That’s an exaggeration – I think Aunt Bernie is using a bit of dramatic licence there, Mum.’
‘You don’t look hot, sweetie, you look drained.’ Her mother added, as she smoothed the dark hair from her daughters face and brushed it back over her shoulders. ‘White, in fact. Like something’s sucked the life out of you.’
‘What! Stop fussing. I’m fine,’ Gina insisted. ‘Fine.’
Gina couldn’t believe how close her mother was to the truth. What had happened out there? And who was that woman? She really did feel sapped. Like blood had been drained out of her but if she told her mother what she’d dreamed, and worse, felt, well, she’d think her cuckoo!
She stretched her arm out on to the shiny granite bar as the barman approached with the tall iced drink. Her throat parched, she swiftly poured half of its contents down in one; feeling the liquid soothe as it sank.
‘Gina, sweet pea. You’ll make yourself sick. Slow down. Or drink water if you’re that thirsty.’
‘Mum, please, I’m thirty-two, not eight.’
‘Oooh, too much information.’ Ollie grinned, sidling up to them. ‘I’d have had you down as twenty-five tops,’ he said, leaning on the bar.
Gina shuddered at his comment.
‘Gina, have you met Ollie Martin, Gabriella’s cousin? We just found out he lives in our neighbourhood. His parents are just across the road, in fact.’
‘Yes, we met earlier,’ Gina said, brushing her mother’s hand off her face.
‘You never told me how beautiful your daughter is, Adrienne. Like her mother, of course.’
‘I don’t need to. It speaks for itself,’ Adrienne pouted.
Gina closed her eyes and cringed at her mother’s pride and at Ollie’s chat-up line. But she couldn’t ignore his aroma and aura, there was certainly some magnetic force going on. And, something irritating too. Picking up her glass, she finished of her drink.
‘Right, I’m going to find James and Gabriella and say goodnight. I’m exhausted.’
‘But it’s only nine o’clock. The night is young. Let me buy you both a drink.’ Ollie waved at the barman. ‘What are you drinking?’
‘Not for me thank you. I’ve had a long day and I don’t want to turn up at the wedding tomorrow with huge bags under my eyes.’
‘I’ll have a white wine, Ollie, please?’ her mother said, brushing her fingers through the crown of her short wavy hair. ‘I’m sure you could manage another hour darling.’
Gina jumped down from the stool and straightened her jumper before flicking her handbag over her shoulder. She could feel Ollie’s eyes sweep over her, surveying her breasts then wandering to her legs. Her face flushed as he stood broad and lean before her and she witnessed his hunger.
‘Well, I’ll say goodnight,’ she managed and, to her surprise, Ollie stepped forward and swept his arm around her shoulder, sending shockwaves right through her as he held her close and kissed both her cheeks.
‘I’m sorry you have to go,’ he said. ‘Look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’
‘Yes, see you in the morning, darling.’ Her mother hugged and kissed her too. ‘Dad and I won’t be late.’
‘Are you staying at your parents’? I’ll see you back.’ Ollie held out a hand.
‘No. No. I can manage. Goodnight,’ she said before rushing off to say her goodnights to everyone else.
As she started her walk from the hotel and along the lake path, a brief flash of the figure she’s seen by the lake swam across her eyes.
‘No,’ she squealed, squinting her eyes so nothing could enter them and running like hell towards to her parents’ apartment block. Struggling to get the keys in the lock, she dropped them twice before opening the communal door. Once in she felt safer in the bright light but hesitated at the lift.
‘Oh fuck, lift.’ She pressed the button and the doors opened. ‘Be brave, be brave,’ she repeated aloud until she reached the fourth floor button. Keys at the ready and sweat now seeping from her forehead she let herself in through the front door.
She headed to her bedroom, praying the image of the lady at the lake would now leave her alone.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_3fe51cba-070f-54e4-8204-4aea7c1a8e60)
‘Gina, it’s eight-thirty,’ her mum called. ‘We have the hairdresser coming at nine-thirty.’
With her head still feeling groggy, Gina pulled back her covers. She had slept in but she hadn’t slept well. She’d had another dream and then lain awake too afraid to move or go back to sleep. What she had seen had terrified her. The vividness had sent her body rigid. There were women howling or children possibly, Gina couldn’t be sure, but it was mixed with the sound of someone pulling at heavy iron chains like they were trying to break them. A woman, possibly the one she’d seen yesterday, had been trying to free herself from chains. She’d been in a dark cave or prison, clothed in what looked like rags and, when not fretting at the chains that bound her, was desperately trying to hand Gina something.
Gina scrunched her shoulders as a cold shiver ran through her. Her mother glided in to her room, breaking her thoughts.
‘Morning, sweetie pie. Did you sleep OK?’ she asked, rolling up the blinds. ‘Are you going to have a bath now or after having your hair done?’
Gina widened her eyes and slid her hand through her hair. ‘I’ll have one now. I need to wake up,’ she said, squinting as the light bounced into the bedroom.
‘Yes, of course, it’s an hour earlier for you, isn’t it,’ her mother reminded Gina as she padded away towards the bathroom.
Refreshed after her bath, she tried hard to fight off the image that was still tormenting her head. Instinctively, she wanted to pull out her computer and do some research but, realising she wouldn’t have time to look up anything this morning, she brushed through her wet hair and, in just her robe, went to join her parents in the living area.
The bright sunlight immediately hit her eyes. The terrace doors spread open wide. Aunt Bernie’s form was silhouetted against the brightness as she lifted pastries from a box and placed them on a plate on the table. She turned as Gina sauntered in.
‘Good morning, Gina. It’s beautiful out here this morning, a perfect day for a wedding. I suppose it’s your turn next.’
‘It’s a gorgeous morning, yes. I wonder how James and Gabriella are this morning,’ Gina replied, ignoring the latter part of her aunt’s comment.
‘Well, they didn’t have a late night,’ said her mother. ‘Dan took his duty of best man quite seriously and got James back to his room when we all left. I think there were only a few in the bar when we left. Ollie was one of them. It’s a small world, isn’t it? He lives in the next block and his parents live just across there. That villa there.’ Adrienne pointed down from the terrace.
‘Yes, you told me. You’ve lived here all this time and never met them?’ Gina asked.
‘Well, I think we know who his parents are. I think we’ve met them briefly at a party. If it’s who I think it is, the son was an Olympic skier. I didn’t realise they were Gabriella’s relatives.’
‘That doesn’t explain why he’s such an arrogant little shit.’
‘I thought he was rather endearing, rather grounded,’ Aunt Bernie argued.
‘Grounded like fog at an airport? You and Mum are such suckers. You both fell for his chat-up lines! I wouldn’t mind but they were so corny!’
‘I thought he was quite laid-back and interesting to talk to,’ Adrienne said as she reached inside the fridge for a new pack of unsalted butter.
‘Gina, we’re ladies of a certain age, we have to make the most of any attention we get,’ Aunt Bernie added as she carried the cafetière out to the table on the terrace. ‘George, are you coming out onto the terrace or reading your paper and being anti-social? Christophe should be here soon to keep you company.’
‘He’ll come out when he wants a smoke,’ Adrienne said, glowering at her husband behind his newspaper.
Gina swung round. ‘Yes, Dad. It would be nice if you would join us. I’m not here every day, you know.’
‘OK, OK. I’m coming,’ he said, lifting himself from his chair. ‘You’ve pulled my heartstrings as usual.’
‘Don’t make it sound like I’m controlling you. You sound like Max,’ Gina said pulling out a chair next to hers and patting it. Her father raised his eyebrows and obeyed.
The hairstylist arrived twenty minutes later wheeling in a case filled with her tools. Gina sat impatiently as her hair was meticulously styled with enough hair lacquer, she imagined, to restructure the Berlin wall. Her stylist whirled her magic with a curling iron and pinned each curl up in sequence. Gina felt every pin as it was burrowed dagger-like into the flesh of her head. She had to admit, though, the effect was elegant, appearing loosely tousled, with a wispy fringe. It was then sprayed again so it wouldn’t fall from grace.
Afterwards Gina scrubbed her face and cleaned her teeth again to get rid of the taste of lacquer. She sat at the dressing table and emptied out her make-up bag. As she looked up to the mirror Max’s reflection stared back as he leaned into the doorframe behind her, smiling.
‘So you made it then,’ she said, trying to contain her pleasure. At least he’d kept his promise. ‘You didn’t have to.’
‘I know but I wanted to,’ he said. ‘You’re hair looks beautiful by the way.’ He marched his well-tended physique towards her and clasped her hand. She held his gaze.
‘I’m not going to pretend I’m happy, Max,’ she said swiping back her hand and picking up her face cream, unscrewing the lid. ‘I don’t think we should discuss it now though. I’m just going to get some base make-up on then I’m going up to Gabriella’s suite. She has a make-up artist to finish us bridesmaids off.’
‘Fine. I’ll get changed here and walk along with your parents.’
‘Well, they won’t be far behind me, so you best hurry.’
‘OK but I’ve got time to tell my darling girl how much I love her, right?’
‘Yes, but I’m not going to listen to any more of your bullshit. If you really don’t want a family, like I told you Thursday, I don’t see where our relationship is going to go.’
‘So, you don’t love me?’
‘Let’s not go there now, Max.’
She watched as his tall, slender frame turned, clutching his head with one hand. He was obviously as frustrated as she was. Why he needed to wait she didn’t know. They could afford a family, he knew that, and he could continue to work on the new charity he’d set up. That wasn’t likely to get in the way. He worked from home often. She couldn’t understand his reasoning or rather, she surmised, his excuses.
As Gina collected up her make-up and put it back in the bag, Max returned to the room showered. He closed the door and dried himself off.
‘Your suit is in that wardrobe there,’ she told him while dressing herself.
‘I’ll take this back with me in the morning. My flight is at eleven.’
‘I’m not returning until Tuesday. I’m going to spend a few days with Mum and Dad.’
‘Yes, you said. I do listen.’
‘When it suits you, yes.’
‘Well, I’m off to the United Arab Emirates on Tuesday so I may not see you.’
‘Why there?’ Gina had now put on some jeans and a T-shirt and was slipping on some pumps.
‘I’ve got some people to see who are likely to give generous amounts to the charity.’
‘Oh,’ she grimaced, searching his face with a frown and collecting her bags. ‘Anyway, I’m off. Did you tell Mum you’re going with her?’
‘No, let her know. I won’t be long.’
After having her make-up finished off Gina went with the two bridesmaids to the hotel foyer and waited at the bottom of the stairs for Gabriella to arrive. As she emerged down the winding marble staircase Gina’s breath was taken away. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law was a stunning sight in ivory taffeta. She paused for photos alone and then Gina and the two other bridesmaids – all three in matching soft peach – joined her as the photographer instructed them to stand behind her and pose for more pictures.
After what seemed like hundreds of photos the bride and bridesmaids made their way through the foyer and processed into the ballroom to begin the wedding service.
Gina’s brother’s face beamed as he caught sight of his bride, arm linked through her father’s, walking towards him down the aisle of white, floral-draped chairs on which a large congregation sat. Sniffs and snivels could be heard among them as the brief ceremony took place. Even Gina had to wipe a tear from her cheek.
Once the nuptials were completed and the couple congratulated by guests, champagne was served with trays of hors d’oeuvres. They were then ushered to their tables for the wedding dinner.
At once Gina felt a cold presence beside her. Nervously she turned her head, fearful of seeing the woman from her dreams again. Instead Ollie Martin stood there wearing a sheepish smile. She turned away embarrassed only to see Max at her other side.
‘You look beautiful, Miss Remy,’ Ollie told her as they sought their place cards on the tables.
Gina felt her cheeks redden.
‘Hi, er, this is my partner, Max Gill,’ she turned to Max. ‘This is the bride’s cousin, Ollie Martin.’
Ollie stepped across her and took Max’s hand. ‘Good to meet you.’
Gina, scanning the cards, realised both Max and Ollie’s were to be sat at this table. Nervously she looked for her own name. She was just making her way around the table when her mother called out to her.
‘Gina, you’re over here sweetheart.’
