Mesmerised, she swallowed.
‘It…it is spectacular. I love it here, particularly when it’s a clear day,’ she said still clutching her diary in her hand. Purposely, she slipped it back in to her bag. ‘And, I actually think this hotel has a far better view, particularly over towards the Château.
‘True. Me too. I sit and just stare. It’s bewitching,’ he added. ‘Even more so when a mist hangs over the water and the clouds float below the mountain peaks. Quite dramatic.’
‘Yes, it can transform in seconds; so beautiful,’ Gina purred, relaxing a little. He had certainly tapped into her passion for the lake.
‘Too much time on our hands, eh? I…I hear you’re in the property business?’ he said, shifting his body towards her slightly. Gina’s skin tingled.
Gina frowned. ‘Mmm. You’ve been talking to my brother?’
‘Yes, but it was Gabriella who mentioned it – it’s my forte too.’ He raised his eyebrows expecting a reaction. ‘I’m building six villas just along there,’ he said pointing down the lakeshore towards the Château de Chillon.
‘Oh, wow,’ she smiled, genuinely impressed.
‘Ollie.’ A shout came from the hotel terrace. He stood and acknowledged the voice with a swift wave.
‘Ah, it’s Gabriella. I’m in such demand. I hope we get to chat later,’ he said jumping up.
Her eyes followed him as he raced up the hotel steps to his cousin, her very soon to be sister-in-law. She inhaled, his enticing scent trailing, and wondered how he had managed to charm her after the awful brashness he’d subjected her to earlier.
Suddenly she began to shiver. Her shoulders hunched as an icy air pierced her bones and crawled along her skin.
‘Shhh, Jesus what the…’
She grabbed her arms, hugging them to warm herself. Frowning, she breezed out a ponderous sigh. This was really weird. Where was that chill coming from and why? Afraid to move, she closed her eyes, leaning back in the bench, still lost in thought and, gradually, as her fingers tingled, the heat returned. She slid her head back, absorbing again the soft warm rays of sunshine which sent her drifting into a relaxing slumber.
Waking with a start, she blinked several times trying to focus her drowsy eyes. The sky had darkened. She’d dozed off she realised but, that was hardly a restful nap. She’d dreamt she’d been submerged into a dark cave, like a dungeon with just a single shaft of light shooting across it giving a reflection of damp glistening stone walls. Heaps of either rocks or bodies scattered a wide arched hall. Then as a putrid stench clenched her nostrils, she saw beside her, a silhouette of a hooded woman, huddled in the darkest corner shivering, trying to ward off a dank cold.
Rubbing her arms, Gina sat up, rolling her shoulders back and straightening her spine. A second later, a strange heaviness bore into the air surrounding her and the musky, earthy punch gushed to her nose like someone was right next to her. She shook her head slowly as she pulled her knees up, feeling like her toes might be stepped on. Was there someone here? Someone, she sensed, was here, right now with her. Or was she going mad?
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,
