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.
‘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