The Chateau. Karen Aldous

a note and slipped out. She needed to walk.

      She took the path along the lake towards the centre and continued until she reached Château de Chillon towards the end of the lake. A kiosk was open outside and, feeling a thirst, she bought a small bottle of water and an ice cream with some change in her pocket and headed back down the path.

      A smaller path led her down to the shore where rocks formed a tiny bay just feet from the vast castle wall. She perched on the rocks and looked out across the lake. It wasn’t as bright as her last visit had been. Clouds and mist harboured the distant view but added drama. The mountains peaked dark grey above a bruised sky like shark fins protruding from the murkiest ocean. It was dismal but the sun was trying its best to sneak through. She peered back at the castle, its turrets towering above. It was beautiful in a haunting medieval way. She couldn’t remember ever visiting it before but noted a tour for when she had time.

      She tried her father’s phone again and every few minutes thereafter but he continued to ignore her. She couldn’t bring herself to call her brother. God no, he would be horrified to discover his parents’ marriage had disintegrated having just tied the knot. Instead she rang Rebecca in the office who confessed it was busy but said she would manage there and sent her condolences. Lydia, she relayed, had agreed to do a few hours where she could. It was fortunate she could assist during school hours. At least something was sorted out, if only for the short-term.

      She climbed some steps and began to meander back along the lake path.

      ***

      Ollie Martin had begun the day early. He and Thomas, his foreman and good friend, had run through the schedules for the villas. With the first villa completing its second fix, Ollie inspected the sanitary ware and kitchen cupboards waiting to be fitted. The wall and floor tilers could now begin and the painters could return to complete the walls and woodwork. The landscaping surrounding the villa could also start.

      He returned to his office and checked his laptop. He still hadn’t received a reply to his email. He wondered if Gina had seen it. Maybe she was busy. He’d give her a few more weeks but the option on the land in London had only two months left so, although he considered London a safe haven for his next investment and the property portals provided a huge amount of information, he would appreciate her input. It would also be an opportunity for her too. Not to mention an excuse for him to make contact.

      Thomas wandered in removing his jacket and hard hat.

      ‘How would you feel about working in London, Tom?’ he asked conscious that it would be difficult with his family in Switzerland.

      Thomas grimaced. ‘It wouldn’t be ideal but I have bills to pay.’

      ‘I’m spreading my wings a bit. London’s still a good investment,’ he told him as he watched Tom unroll a huge site drawing.

      ‘Well, you have to go where the opportunities are like me. I would prefer to stay with you.’

      ‘Yeah, we work well together so think about it.’

      ‘I’ll speak to Anna,’ Thomas said, nodding his head and spreading the drawing across his desk. ‘It’s all about schools nowadays.’

      ‘Oh, I completely understand. Yes, a bit different from when we started out and we could stagger round bars. Have a chat with Anna about it. Let me know,’ Ollie said, thinking how lucky Tom was. He certainly had a beautiful wife and super kids. He wouldn’t want to uproot them but wanted Thomas to stay with him.

      Sitting back in his chair, staring at the screen, he had to admit it was always drink which made him brave. He had made a fool of himself being so drunk at the rehearsal and calling out to Gina. He’d probably completely blown his chances. He just wished he had a natural confidence with women. He was so inept, particularly with women he really liked. Why did it always go so wrong when he found someone that really stirred him? He could only conclude it all stemmed back to being rejected and, publicly humiliated, by Phoebe Barton-King in his first year at university. He’d been surprised when she’d agreed to go out with him. It had taken several drinks and a crass chat-up line to ask her. She’d been the girl all the guys buzzed around like bees around a honeypot, but she’d left a bitter taste after just four weeks. Just as his confidence was growing, she’d taken great pleasure in telling all his friends in the bar that he was the biggest and most boring dork she’d ever met. Adding that he was still tied to his mother’s apron strings. It was the worst moment of his life and for weeks afterwards he’d seriously contemplated suicide. Luckily, it was his mother who had got him through it.

      Thomas called for a third time. ‘You’re miles away. Do you want coffee?’

      Ollie stared up at his colleague. ‘Oh, er, yes. Sorry. Yeah, just thinking.’

      ‘Pretty deeply by all accounts,’ Thomas laughed.

      ‘Thinking how lucky you are. Having Anna and the children. It’s worked really well. Didn’t you meet her in that club we went to when we did my father’s site in Vevey?’

      ‘Yes. That was embarrassing. I’d met some other girl there the week before.’

      ‘Ha, that’s right. I remember she came up to you when you were chatting to Anna.’

      They both laughed. Ollie had been finding his feet again around that time. Two other guys at the site, he and Tom had regularly enjoyed their nights out.

      Thomas placed a mug of coffee on his desk. ‘Yes, my friend, you were quite the player then. What happened? Since Ella, you’ve not really been on many dates.’

      Ollie thought he’d got over his fear. Picking up girls in clubs was easy. He was drunk, they were drunk and drooling. He didn’t care for them. Any really beautiful woman however, he steered away from. The Phoebe Barton-King incident had grossly knocked him sideways. He refused to approach a beautiful girl again. Labelled them all as cruel and up their own backsides. The irony was, the less sensitive he behaved towards the girls he did approach, the greater his success. He became the bad boy they all wanted.

      ‘I don’t know, it all became meaningless. Ella was sweet but…nowhere close to what I’m looking for, and what you have.’

      ‘God, I got lucky with Anna.’

      ‘You found the right person and you went for it. Clearly she is special.’

      Special, that was what Gina was. And they’d exploded with chemistry. The attraction was strikingly strong, that’s for sure. He’d been brave enough with a drink inside him or perhaps just brash. Inevitably, he would struggle and he would have to risk humiliation. Surely he should be mature enough to deal with that. He rubbed his forehead. It was just his bad luck she was in a relationship. Long-term too.

      His mind drifted as he closed He pictured her amazing dark chestnut hair, which happened to be his favourite colour on women. Thick and long with a soft natural wave flowing down her back. And the delicate bone structure shaping large green-blue eyes which smiled on their own, a pretty, slender nose with just slightly-flared nostrils which gave her a sort of wildness, sexiness even. Her aura bleeding a blend of confidence and independence, a quality that really turned him on.

      ‘Right,’ he said, shutting down his laptop. ‘I’m off.’

      ‘Can you sign off this before you go?’ Thomas brought him a sheet. ‘And I’ll see you tomorrow.’

      ‘See you in the morning.’ He gave Thomas a swift wave and headed back to the centre of Montreux. He could, he decided, do with a quick beer.

      He wandered along the lake path. He passed a statue on the edge of the lake: a door in just a frame leading directly in to the lake. He smiled. It never failed to amuse him. The lake path was strewn each year with a variety of art in several forms. He was curious as to the artist’s inspiration for the piece as he approached it. He’d intended to find out one day before it disappeared. Then, just as he peered away back to the path, thinking about stopping and reading the plaque beside it, a female figure grabbed his attention. It was Gina. She was strolling before him, deep in thought. He swallowed