The Chateau. Karen Aldous

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Название The Chateau
Автор произведения Karen Aldous
Жанр Контркультура
Серия
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474007818



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don’t breathe a word. He’ll tell his family and it’ll be all over town. James doesn’t even know yet. What if he hears it from someone else?’ Adrienne closed her eyes and blew out a big sigh as she sat back in her chair. ‘Don’t get me wrong, sweetie, I like Ollie, but it’s private. I will have to ring James soon though. I don’t suppose for one minute your father will, but, well, he’s still on his honeymoon. I couldn’t do it, not until they’re back.’

      ‘Yes, I agree. I’ll speak to James if you’d rather. I’d wait until he gets back, of course.’

      ‘I think it would be better coming from me.’

      ‘If that’s what you prefer.’ She tried to reassure her mother but realised she was really trying to assure herself.

      She tried to convince herself that Ollie would exercise discretion but was well aware of his loudness, particularly after a few beers. Oh, fuck!

       Chapter 8

      Agnes-Francesia gave herself a satisfied smile. Seems to be going well, she thought. Gina wasn’t actually that phased by her, which was surprising. She pondered as to whether she was getting better at her contact or whether the world was changing. She preferred to think it was the former. It could be her efforts were more refined with the practice she’d had over the years but it was always possible people were more in touch with their spiritual side or had less fear of it.

      The main thing was that Gina was emotionally reacting to this man. He seemed perfect, attractive, single and, without doubt, close to the Château quite regularly. But her movements were, she felt, scaring Gina. Maybe she should try something gentler, less invasive. She’d caught her attention though.

      She understood this girl was not from her own homeland. But that wasn’t important. Her own life had begun in Switzerland, in a village not too far away but her marriage had taken her to be with Luca in Italy. People adapt even when the languages differed. Gina was from the British Islands. That was a long distance, but she had felt so fortunate to have found her in Switzerland especially near to the Château. The problem had been trying to get her back. It really wasn’t pleasant, unforgivable, in fact. She just hoped she could right that wrong later. It was a fact of life. Men easily succumbed and it was the only way she could manipulate the situation.

      This travel was a problem now too. For over a hundred and fifty years the long tubes on tracks carried people. Not horses like she had after she married Luca. They didn’t have to walk from town to town like she did when she was young. In fact, mamma mia, they flew in carriages like birds now. Even food was transported in them. Luca would laugh, to think his merchandise could be carried through the air when he had had only boats and horses to rely on. Her poor Luca and her poor boys. She had to get this right this time and be back where she belonged.

      ***

      Gina woke rigid and unable to move from fear. It was still dark. She’d been floating back down in the bleak dark cavern. The sulphuric stench hung heavy in the air while the same woman was chained to the wall. Again held the package out to Gina. She reached out to catch it but then a guard ran at the woman. Gina had then tried to move but every limb, every muscle locked. Only her heart pounded and on waking her breath raced like she’d cycled up a mountain. Braids of sweat drenched her hairline.

      Scrambling with her fingers as darkness still hung around her, she reached out and fumbled for the lamp and pressed the switch. Relief washed over her and she sat up. Everything around her seemed normal but the acrid odour still hung under her nose and the vision was all too clear in her head.

      OK, she told herself, swallowing quickly. These are just nightmares. Very vivid, very repetitive, nightmares. The strangest she’d ever had in her life. And so real, like she was part of them. Why? After some minutes, she could only rationalise them occurring due to the stress of arguing with Max, her parents’ break-up.

      But where was this woman? It seemed like a familiar place. She’d recognised the arched ceiling this time. It seemed too elaborate for a dungeon or prison. And why was the woman trying to hand her the package again? What was she trying to tell her? Did she want help? How could she? This woman seemed to be dressed in clothes from another century, several centuries ago maybe. Was she a poltergeist? Maybe she never found peace and…Oh fuck no.

      You’re being stupid. Probably going bloody mad! Gina pushed off her covers and dug into her cabin bag for her tablet computer. She began searching the internet, looking for anything which may be of relevance to her dreams: woman in dungeon, spirits, even poltergeist. Apart from some obvious suggestions that she was under stress or that a lit dungeon is a warning of a threatened entanglement of which her better judgement should warn her, it was useless. The poltergeist search only really purported to affect pubescent girls, so that she discounted immediately.

      She searched for at least two hours before checking the clock. It was nearly seven. She showered, dressed and crept out the apartment to the bakery on Rue des Artisans. She choose some delicious pastries to cheer up her mother, which the assistant boxed them and handed to her along with a small baguette.

      ‘Merci, au revoir,’ she said and turned to leave. As she stepped out into the street, her heart lurched. Her legs began edging towards a car a couple were climbing into. She began to run across the road towards it.

      ‘Dad, Dad,’ she screamed as loud as her vocal chords could manage and started to chase it as it pulled away and up Rue Gambetta. ‘Dad,’ she shrieked, her legs almost buckling beneath her as she ran faster. But the car gained speed as it climbed the hill. Defeat shot into her stomach. ‘Shit.’ She slowed and had to rest to catch her breath. She was sure he had heard her. She felt the swelling in her throat and, heading back to the path, released a torrent of tears. ‘You bastard, I know you saw me,’ she cried as the car disappeared.

      What sort of man had he suddenly become, she asked herself wiping her eyes. Wasn’t it bad enough he didn’t answer his phone. Now it felt like he’d just twisted the knife. Phone, she thought, she quickly pulled it out and checked the time before turning around to head home.

      She found it difficult to believe he would just drive off like that, ignore his own daughter. And it was hard to imagine he was living so close to home. If he was? He could have just been using the café across the road. But, Gina recalled her glimpse, the woman who got into the car with him was younger than she’d envisaged, closer to her own age than his. Jesus Christ. How could he? Anger pinched her cheeks as the realisation dawned. He really was with another woman. She wiped her forehead feeling hot. What on earth had gotten into him? She couldn’t tell her mother about this. Or should she? If it was her she would want to know. If only she could discuss it. But with whom? Aunt Bernie would know what to do but Adrienne had been adamant she didn’t want her to know yet. Max. She would ring Max. She pulled out her phone and hit his number. It went to voicemail.

      Arriving back at the apartment, she prepared coffee and laid out bread and pastries. She heard her mother in the shower. Thank God for that, she told herself hoping her mother was feeling a little better. She quickly got out her phone and rang Ollie.

      ‘I was just about to ring you,’ he said. ‘I thought it was a bit early though.’

      ‘Oh,’ Gina sounded surprised. ‘Well, no it’s fine but listen, I need your help. Can we meet later?’

      ‘I was going to ask you, well, my mother has invited you and your mother over later this afternoon. Dad’s in Basel until tomorrow so I thought it might be an opportunity for your mother and mine to get together. They are neighbours so it should be relatively easy. My mother’s keen on the idea.’

      ‘But you didn’t say anything about my parents did you?’ Exasperation spurt from her.

      ‘Only what you told me, why?’

      ‘It’s just that I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Mum obviously doesn’t want anyone to know and is worried James will hear and get wrong information from another source. She hasn’t said anything to him yet because