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.
‘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
