The Riviera

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The Riviera Page 29

by Karen Aldous


  ‘It’s just a rehearsal for God’s sake.’

  ‘Like I said, imagine how you would feel,’ her mother said, lowering her voice.

  Heads turned as the two of them entered the opulent ballroom. Gina stared breathless at its grandeur, which was at one with the belle-époque exterior.

  ‘OK. Now we can begin,’ she heard her brother tell the wedding co-ordinator. The small congregation then turned from their patient disquiet to readiness.

  After a tense half hour Gina was better versed in what she would be undertaking the following day. She breathed out a sigh. Feeling totally dishevelled compared to the other well-groomed and manicured females present, she followed them out to the richly furnished salon and on to a bright sunny terrace furnished with wrought-iron dining furniture, a festooned canopy and, she swiftly noted, a bar. Just what she needed!

  She took her father’s arm as she caught up with him. He turned and greeted her with his familiar warmth, followed by his sister, Aunt Bernie, who fussed with more kisses. As the crowd dispersed into small groups, she and her parents claimed a table overlooking the lake with Aunt Bernie. It was laden with Aunt Bernie’s speciality table decorations: clusters of red carnations. She had thought they needed a trial run and James had obviously given in to her persistence. Although Gina wasn’t sure his soon-to-be bride, Gabriella, would appreciate them.

  Once the waiter had taken her drinks order, Gina excused herself and made a quick visit to the ladies room. After touching up her make-up and brushing her hair, she checked the mirror satisfied she had now come some way to looking presentable. Scooping her bag back up, she breezed back to the terrace, swiping her smartphone to take it off silent as she hurried back to the reception. She glanced up, aware of a figure approaching. Just noting legs in front of her, she veered left. He staggered one way, she stepped aside, both moving the same way and whoosh, crashing into each other.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, flicking her eyes up. They locked hard with the stranger’s as rose thorns seemed to strike through her veins.

  ‘Pardon, Madame,’ he slurred, touching her arm as his chocolate-brown eyes ensnared her with their intensity.

  Wow, her breath escaped, whipped away like never before. She steadied herself, catching his arm. As she felt his skin beneath her fingertips – hot and solid with muscle – she lost her grip on her phone, letting it fall to the thick carpet.

  He stared like he was afraid to look away. She did the same, scared to lose the moment.

  ‘I’ll get that,’ he said finally as he bent down and collected the phone from the lush pile and waved it in his hand. ‘I’ll put my number in here. You might need it.’

  ‘Err,’ she croaked, clearing her throat and reaching for her phone. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘No?’ He raised his eyebrows and threw her a questioning look. ‘You find me drop-dead gorgeous and yet you decline any possibility of contacting me?’

  Gina couldn’t believe her ears. What an arrogant bastard!

  ‘I find the Mediterranean Sea gorgeous but if it’s too shallow to swim in there’s really no point,’ she said, retrieving the phone from his hand and whipping around.

  As she rushed off, back to her table, a chill struck her chest and rippled down her arms. She peered curiously around her while rubbing her arms as the cold surged into her bones. She gazed overhead, searching for the air-conditioning unit but couldn’t see one. Frowning she returned to the terrace asking herself if she was imagining it.

  As she arrived onto the terrace she noticed that the handsome but arrogant stranger had followed her and was now making his way to a seat at the next table. She squeezed past her father, shifting a chair around to one side so she could see not just her beloved Lake Léman but also this fascinating new prey. As egotistical as the stranger was, he was deadly attractive. That was more than just chemistry. Oh, you minx, she told herself with a shrill of inner mischief. Max might not be favourite on your menu right now but that’s no reason to harbour illicit thoughts.

  George Remy, looking his usual freckled and suntanned self but a rather tired version, was sat next to her.

  ‘So, how is my little property princess getting on?’ he asked clasping one of his daughter’s shoulders and giving it a squeeze.

  Gina smiled. ‘It’s getting busy again. Holiday season is finishing and people are on the move again.’ Gina pursed her lips. She knew business could be better.

  ‘What, both sales and lettings?’ he said, lighting a cigarette.

  ‘Lettings are busier but things are definitely picking up. There’s more confidence in the economy.’

  ‘About time,’ he said, puffing heavily on his cigarette. ‘Good for you.’

  ‘About time you gave that up too.’ She scowled.

  ‘Don’t you start. You’re beginning to sound like your mother. Anyway, where’s Max?’

  ‘Well, good of you to notice. He’s back in London. We had a big argument last night. And, don’t ask, I don’t want to talk about it.’

  Gina closed her eyes. She had shut Max out of her thoughts all day. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Hopefully he’d finally got the message. If he doesn’t want to…No, she wasn’t going there.

  ‘So have you met everyone?’ she asked, clasping her hands together and crossing her legs. She knew how anti-social her dad could be.

  ‘Yes, James introduced Gabriella’s sister, her boyfriend and two of her cousins, I think. We’ve met her parents, of course.’

  ‘Yes. Oh, look James is coming over,’ Gina said, standing up as her brother shuffled around the table to greet her. ‘So sorry about the hold up earlier,’ she told him, kissing him on both cheeks.

  ‘Yes, you did cut it a bit fine. Where’s Max?’ James sat down and placed his beer in front of him. Gina, not realising it would be so difficult to explain, tightened her lips.

  ‘Still in London. Should be here in the morning.’

  ‘Well, we won’t be holding our wedding up for him,’ James scoffed.

  ‘They’ve had a row and she doesn’t want to talk about it,’ George said, stubbing out his cigarette.

  ‘Oh really, sweetheart,’ her mother squealed, sauntering around the table and grabbing a chair, followed by the waiter with the drinks. ‘I suspect this means he still doesn’t want to start a family then.’

  Gina slammed her sunglasses on and turned towards the lake. Her eyes prickled and then stung with the tears she was so desperately trying to fight. This was supposed to be a happy occasion and all they could do was remind her of her relationship failings. She swallowed and discreetly tried to wipe her nose with a tissue. Why couldn’t they just leave her be? Her mother was right, of course, but why she had to blurt it out she didn’t know. Aunt Bernie would have a field day and, speak of the devil, she was on her way back now from Gabriella’s family now, probably with all their gossip.

  ‘As I said, I don’t want to talk about it. Anyway, James, are you nervous?’ she asked, changing the subject and scanning the menu the waiter now placed in her hand.

  ‘I’m fine, but Gabriella’s been sick with nerves this morning.’ James turned to peer at his bride-to-be. ‘I don’t think she’s been eating well lately either, she’s lost some weight.’

  ‘Most new brides do, James,’ his mother said, patting him gently on the arm. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.’

  Gina peered up from her menu. She gasped. Bang opposite her, the vain man was staring at her with a wide grin on his face. Was he trying to humiliate her? She looked away, shifting in her chair. Her heart raced and blood rushed to her cheeks. Glad to still have her sunglasses on, she sipped at her vodka and slim-line tonic. The hovering waiter asked for her order. She ordered a salad just as two more waiters arrived at the table with glasses and a bucket. When she looked up, the vain stranger was still staring.

  ‘Adrienne, darling,’ Aunt Bernie bustled herself in between Gina and her mother. ‘Hope you don’t mind, I’ve ordered a couple of bottles of c
hampagne: two for this table and two for Gabriella’s parents. Just as a celebratory drink for you all. I probably won’t get a chance tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Bernie,’ Adrienne said, kissing her sister-in-law who was as redheaded as Adrienne was blonde. ‘Did you hear, George? Your sister has…’

  ‘Yes, yes. Thank you, Bernie. Very generous,’ he said crossing his legs then swallowing the rest of his beer.

  ‘Are you OK, Dad?’ Gina asked, trying hard to appear casual. ‘You don’t seem yourself.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he grunted then forced a smile. ‘Tired, but fine.’

  ‘I’m going to say hello to Gabriella and her family,’ Gina said, shuffling out from the table and eager to get away from the uncomfortable stare.

  ‘Take this with you,’ said Aunt Bernie, handing her a glass of champagne.

  As the chatter flowed among the party, so did the champagne. Gina and Gabriella chatted for a while about Gabriella’s wedding preparations and listing all the beauty treatments she’d endured ready for her big day. Gina had to concede, her soon to be sister-in-law appeared highly polished and nothing, it seemed, had been overlooked. Her skin glowed – her tan sprayed on in just the right portions – her hair and nails were immaculately manicured. Gina didn’t think there any more Gabriella could do but, Gabriella insisted, she, her bridesmaids and her mother would have the full expertise of a professional make-up artist for the big day tomorrow.

  As food arrived, Gina returned to her table. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was and tucked into her salad with gusto. Aunt Bernie topped up glasses around the table except her father’s: he preferred beer. The conversation around the terrace was increasing in volume and Gina couldn’t help noticing the gorgeous vain man again, sitting opposite, giving her the occasional glance. Now with her glasses back on her head, she tried not to be intrigued. She still had no idea who he was although he appeared to be with the bride-to-be’s family. He was certainly a looker though.

  She admired the way his dark brown hair cascaded loosely, hanging low over those walnut-brown eyes. They dominated his face of otherwise well-proportioned features. As she gazed again, his eyes bounced back. Her whole body tingled. He smiled, revealing even white teeth, beautiful and perfect, just like his seductively sensual lips.

  ‘Cheer up,’ he shouted aloud for everyone to hear. ‘I can still let you have my number.’

  Gina’s cheeks roared in flames and she ducked her head back down to her salad, distractedly slicing the remainder of chicken breast on her plate. Not knowing where to place her eyes, she focused them on her glass.

  ‘Don’t ignore me now,’ he bellowed. ‘I was enjoying your attention.’

  He winked as she raised her eyes.

  Gina sat horrified. How bloody embarrassing. Scratching her temple she gazed around her but was grateful that little attention was actually being paid to him. Her mother and aunt had clocked him however.

  ‘You seem to have caught that young man’s eye, Gina,’ her aunt sang out what was blindingly obvious.

  ‘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.’

  Chapter 2

  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, shif
ting 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?

 

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