Karen Aldous - The Chateau

After a few seconds, as anticipated, she heard his footsteps echo down the hall. Then the latch clicked telling her he’d left her flat.

‘Good riddance’ she wanted to shout. But how could she ever fall out of love with Max? It would break her heart, and more importantly, his girls’. Was she so wrong in wanting a family when it was something they’d planned?

‘Bastard!’ she whispered.

***

After a frustrating morning with a two-hour delay before her flight, Gina dashed along the lakeside path wheeling her case to the hotel, stopping briefly to clip up her long dark hair away from her increasingly hot, sticky neck. It was just gone three o’clock. She’d text her brother to keep him informed but he wasn’t, it seemed, very forgiving. He’d texted back telling her to hurry.

Despite the stress of Max and her lateness, she at least had taken some pleasure in her journey. As the train had edged round Lake Léman, the view had calmed her. It was her favourite scene in the world and she had chosen a sun-drenched seat on the right-hand side of the carriage from which to savour every aspect of the imposing mountains encircling the vast glistening water. It always made her feel comforted and welcome.

As she reached the hotel entrance, she hauled her suitcase up the small set of stairs and wheeled it across the thick cream carpet, then with a harsh whack, parked it against a marble Corinthian column, looking around for a familiar face. Her mother appeared at once, ushering with her hand. Gina immediately ran to her, past the reception and entered a vast columned vestibule.

‘Gina, thank goodness, we were getting worried. Come,’ she urged, reaching for her daughter and planting kisses on both cheeks.

‘Hello, Mum.’ Gina tossed her oversized handbag over her right shoulder and tightly hugged the petite, blonde woman. ‘I couldn’t get here any quicker. Is James OK or is he in a panic?’

‘Oh, you know your brother has to say his piece, like you. Says you should have organised an earlier flight. Let’s not make an issue of it now, Gina. He’ll be fine. I’m sure you’d be panicking too if it were your wedding.’

‘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.’