‘Yes, he’s so subtly just let me know,’ she replied, turning the volume up of her own voice. ‘Shame. I was so enjoying myself.’
‘I’ll show you how to enjoy yourself,’ he said standing and staggering towards her.
‘No, thank you,’ she told him, throwing out an arresting palm at the same time as he was pulled back to his seat by a young woman next to him.
‘Shush, sit down, Ollie. You’ve had too much to drink,’ the woman said, coaxing him back to his seat. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed at Gina.
‘I’m not sorry.’ Ollie tried to stand again. ‘She’s a beautiful girl and I think she fancies me, ’cus…’
‘Nobody’s going to fancy you in this state, Ollie,’ the woman continued. ‘You’ve been drinking all day. You need to go and sleep it off.’
Feeling drained, after an hour Gina took herself off for a leisurely stroll along the lake while it was still bright. A soft breeze showered her skin, rekindling her energy and quietening her mind. Refreshed, she stopped at a bench alongside the path. Sitting by the lake, she sank into a mellow trance as the evening sun soothed her porcelain skin. The crowds who had pounded the promenade earlier had ceased and she rested her head back and wallowed in the peace. She absorbed the spectacle before her while breathing in the pure Swiss air, embracing the stillness. Clear lake waters lapped at the shore in front of her while majestic snow-tipped mountains enveloped the lake’s edge. The sun’s rays turning the surface a shimmering silver against the clear cobalt sky.
Gina began reciting a poem in her head then, twisting her mouth as she forgot a line she dug her hand in her bag. She’d got it printed in her diary, the reason she’d bought it, and pulled it gently from her bag. She opened it.
Clear, placid Léman! thy contrasted lake,
With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing
Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake
Earth’s troubled waters for a purer spring.
Lord Byron
Gina closed the diary and repeated the words in her head as she had in her youth. She treasured the sentiment even more now as an adult. How peaceful and at one she felt with herself here compared to the hustle and bustle of life in London. Not to mention her troubled relationship with Max.
‘Mind if I join you.’
Startled, she shot up from her slumped position on the bench, pulling down her sunglasses.
‘Sorry for being an arse. Oliver Martin, Ollie,’ he continued, offering her his hand. ‘I’m the bride’s cousin and, yes, the loud-mouth.’
Peering up, she lifted up her palm, taking a sturdy hand and shaking it.
‘Oh. I was enjoying the peace actually,’ she said, swinging her head back towards the lake.
‘Look, I’m sorry. I’d been drinking rather too much. One of my cousins has been away for almost two years and, well, we started on the beer rather early,’ he added, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Gina sat back, shifted uncomfortably in her seat and crossed her legs, trying not to show the unease his presence stirred inside her. She folded her hands together around her diary to contain the trembling. Her blood rushing faster than the nearby waterfall.
After staring at her for a few moments he began. ‘The...the rehearsal seemed to go OK, I thought.’ He swallowed. ‘Are you looking forward to tomorrow?’ He hovered. He was tall, as imposing as the mountains behind.
Shielding her eyes as she looked up, she said, ‘Yes. I can’t believe my baby brother is getting married – and, before me!’ she said. Why she was being polite she didn’t know. This was the arrogant drunkard who’d embarrassed her at dinner, she reminded herself.
‘What a beautiful setting for a wedding. Would have gone for the Montreux Palace myself,’ he said, perching his smartly attired frame next to her, emanating a scent so enticing her body temperature created an instant flush to her face.
Stalling for time, Gina glanced up at the distant mountains, holding herself until her breath settled. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, momentarily catching a glimpse of the enchanted Château de Chillon nestled at the edge of the lake.
As she turned to him, his dark eyes sparkled behind thick velvety lashes. 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