THERE WAS SOMEONE OUTSIDE her door.
Kate had woken from a light sleep where she sat in the chair in the guest room at La Rocca. It was like waking from a nightmare, but in reverse. Usually, on becoming conscious, there’s the relief that the bad feelings were just a dream, but this time the bad feelings were here, in the room, and very real. Someone was outside her door, and the room was filled with a sense of their dark presence.
Who was it?
She stood up, her limbs aching with fatigue and the discomfort of having dozed off in the chair, and walked to the door. She pulled her gown tight round her shoulders and waited. All she had to do was open it, but right now, that seemed an impossible task. It wasn’t like her to be cowardly, but at this darkest hour of the night her courage had deserted her.
Her ears were straining for the smallest sound. Was that a floorboard creaking in the passageway? The press of bare feet on carpets? Was someone’s hand reaching forward to turn the handle? For God’s sake, she told herself angrily, just open the door. Summoning all her courage, she laid her palm on the smooth round of the knob and turned…
The door opened smoothly and she looked out. No one. But then, when she peered further out, she half saw, or imagined, or thought she saw, a shadow whisking round the corner at the end of the corridor.
She closed the door quickly. Had she imagined it? After just a few hours at La Rocca was she starting to come apart, so that she became a person who was frightened of shadows?
She went back to her chair, knowing it would be impossible to sleep again that night, waiting for the dawn. Her thoughts drifted back relentlessly to that final weekend. If only she had left when Francesca’s parents had arrived. It had seemed such a small decision at the time. It wasn’t fair that such trivial decisions should have such a mighty impact. There should have been some warning, some way of knowing what lay ahead. If she’d gone then, once the Vespa racing was over, she’d have forfeited the most romantic night of her life, but that would have been worth it if it meant Francesca survived. If Kate had gone with the others then her last memory of Francesca that weekend would have been her laughter and her fun as she careered down the driveway on the back of David’s Vespa. Francesca enjoying herself, Francesca with not a care in the world.
Instead of which…