One Moment At Sunrise

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One Moment At Sunrise Page 33

by Karen Aldous


  ‘Well, he might have just dug his own grave there. But, look, I’m strong enough to get myself along to the station. You should get on. You have a film to make.

  Stepping forward and gripping her waist he squeezed it lightly. ‘I certainly can take time out to come with you, and whilst we’re in town, you can bank this,’ he said, opening his wallet and handing her a cheque.

  Evie stared, momentarily speechless as she held the cheque between her fingers. ‘My first pay ch…what?’ She stared at Ben and then back at the figure. ‘What, you’re kidding?’

  ‘You’ve earned it.’

  ‘But that’s a sizeable deposit on a house.’

  ‘You are my Maria Mendoza… but, unlike Riquet, I will be so proud to add you to the credits. You’ll see. You are the genius for this visionary picture. And, with more ideas brewing, I can’t think of a better partner to work with in the future, so I hope we can do more. You probably have your own ideas too.’

  ‘Ben, I’d love to.’ Evie perched on the edge of her chair, supporting her dizzy head with her elbow on the table. ‘Oh I can’t believe this is all happening. I need a week to let this all sink in.’ All the excitement was overwhelming. Her body trembled but her smile radiated. Ben was taking her to new heights.

  Ben leant back on the worktop, his arms folded and his hand covering his mouth as if contemplating something. ‘I would like to spend some time with you going through the complete script. As soon as possible, that is, like tomorrow, if you’re free? Just to add final touches.’

  ‘Yes. I’ve nothing planned at all. It would be great to work with a professional. I want to learn as much about writing scripts as I can. I’ve got another one lined up with Samantha, remember.’

  ‘Absolutely, learning is good. I’ve even learnt something from Seb, weirdly.’

  Evie made a quizzical pout. ‘Really, I can’t imagine what.’

  ‘Well, he’s helped me realise where I go wrong with my relationships.’

  Evie sniggered. ‘No, I don’t believe you.’

  Nodding, Ben flexed his shoulders back. ‘It’s true. I think we are both workaholics, so in many respects we’re similar, but Seb I think is too egotistical to break the pattern. I’ve witnessed the damage he’s done to his relationship and the way he’s treated you. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I’ve been as bad in the past, nowhere near in fact, but I’ve been guilty of not paying them enough attention. So I’ve set myself a new challenge – to create balance in my life and with whoever I share it with. I want my next relationship to work.’

  She pondered the thought and drew in a breath as she swallowed his words. His honesty was, as ever, sincere. He wasn’t afraid to admit his faults and correct them; he was prepared to make the necessary changes. Perhaps that was why she was so drawn to him. Plus, he was prepared to take risks. Prepared to jeopardise his own reputation and his film. It was something she had never faced herself. She had always allowed others to do that for her; Seb offered her the easy route, providing her with what she thought she desired. She’d not had to think for herself. But, through Ben she’d found the strength when she needed to challenge Seb. She took that risk and it paid off. She clasped her hands together as if in prayer, lowering her eyes to her daughter.

  ‘I believe work will be good for me, so I’m not beholden to anyone, but I will certainly balance mine because I have Charlotte. She is the centre of my world but I will look after my needs too. What I need to do now is to learn how to be independent.’ Her eyes steered to his, absorbing his hunger but seeing disappointment. ‘Thanks to you, Ben, I’ve realised my talent and resourcefulness and am starting to take my own risks.’ That was true, she was being honest, she was now free to think for herself and take risks. She had begun to earn her own money, and there was more work in the pipeline.

  Ben licked his lips. ‘So do you have any immediate risks in mind?’

  It was all happening so quick but it also felt so natural. Stepping towards him, and inhaling his seductive scent, she took his hands. Evie Grant was now her own agent, Seb had abandoned her and Ben was worth the risk; he was simply unique and handsome with it. Why should she deny herself happiness? Charlotte would always have the security of a home, but more importantly – love and a happy mother.

  ‘It depends on you now, I suppose, but I’m more than happy to risk going on that date you asked me out on that morning we met. So once you have wrapped up this film, can we? Before you return to England?’

  He pulled her to his chest and slipped his hands snuggly around her waist; her arms snaked around his neck, the force irresistible. She watched his lips. ‘You have a date and you won’t have to wait for me to wrap up, because I will make time. And I won’t be rushing back to England. I’ve just saddled myself with an old stone wreck of house near the canal, which I’m going to do up. It’s by the bridge in Capestang.’

  ‘Where we met and found each other.’

  ‘Yes, the Canal du Midi has become a very special place because of you.’

  Evie’s tongue curled. ‘We could watch the sunrise every morning.’

  He raised a hand to her face, and gently stroked her cheek. ‘Where fate laid her hand. What an entrance you made to my life. No one has brought such drama and beauty to my life like you have. Clearly why my instinct was to hold onto you.’

  Each of her senses sprang to life just feeling at one with him. ‘I think I knew that too. You just had to prove yourself by rescuing Charlotte too. Maybe we both thrive on drama.’

  ‘Love has some strange ways,’ he said, brushing his lips on hers and finally sealing them with a long-yearned-for kiss. A kiss Evie knew would seal an eternal love.

  If you loved One Moment at Sunrise then turn the page for an exclusive extract from The Chateau, another irresistible story from Karen Aldous.

  Chapter 1

  ‘Max, you’re not obliged to come to the wedding, in fact, I’d rather you didn’t. You’re just full of bloody excuses all the time so fuck you.’ Georgina Remy slammed the bedroom door hard.

  ‘Gina. Gina,’ Max roared through the closed door. ‘I just feel it’s important to meet these guys on Friday while they’re in the country.’

  Gina turned on her heels and flung back the door. Max was before her, in her face. His metallic eyes pleading. She squinted hard at them.

  ‘I don’t believe you, Max. Why does your charity always have to come first? These people will survive. You’re hardly providing life-saving operations. Haven’t you heard charity begins at home?’ She slammed the door again. ‘This is the same feeble excuse you keep harking back to. Our relationship should come before anything: my business; your charity. You don’t get it, do you?’

  ‘I do and it won’t happen again, not after this and, as I said, we’ll sit down and plan,’ he shouted through the door.

  ‘Just…I don’t want to hear it.’ She stepped back. ‘This so-called relationship is going nowhere, Max. Go home.’ She rushed for her suitcase, pulling it out from under her bed and mindlessly throwing her neatly ironed clothes in. She could hear him continuing the fight from the hall.

  ‘Why are you overreacting? I’ll fly over Saturday morning. I’ll be there for the wedding, I promise. Gina…Gina. I’ve committed to it. I won’t let it happen again. You know I’m looking forward to it.’

  A fierce silence sliced through the air. As she forced shoes and toiletries and make-up around her clothes Gina fought hard not to let the bitterness erupt. Clasping her head in her hands, she collapsed on the bed, throwing her head into the pillow. With some distance she could hopefully calm herself. He would probably leave now anyway, he usually did. This was now a regular occurrence. A routine. It was a mockery of a relationship. This wasn’t the life she’d planned, not the Max she’d once known. He’d always been attentive, sharing and keen to have a family and family life. He’d always wanted to be with her and do things with her. She closed her eyes before she heard him again.

  ‘I’ll be there Saturday morn
ing, darling. I love you,’ he said speaking in muffled tones behind her door. A few seconds later, she heard a heavy sigh filter through the wood before he yelled, ‘See you Saturday.’

  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.’

  ‘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.

 

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