I knew it was him. I knew it was him. The striking face, the gray-blue eyes and the strikingly elegant style of dress. It could only be him. I had no doubts about my plan. It was too easy to let it slip away again this time. "Aurel, we're going to the coast - to the tower," I said firmly. It was a long way. Besides, I knew it wouldn't be long before it got dark. "Oui, ma beauté," he nodded and drove off.
It was late when we got there. Almost midnight. The man had introduced himself. Everything had gone according to plan so far. His name was Victor Lagier. When we arrived, he pinched his sensual mouth into a recognizably narrow line. Frowning, he let his gaze wander over the hut, right by the sea. I already knew that he didn't like it. That's good! Let him feel uncomfortable. We got out of the Mercedes. Aurel hugged me. "Prends soin de toi, ma belle", he looked me in the eye. Then he did something he had never done before. He gave me a soft, awkward kiss on the lips. "Take care of yourself," he stroked my neck tenderly. When he tried to kiss me again, I pulled away firmly. "It's okay," I said with a decisive smile. I would have loved to fall gratefully around his neck and not take another step, but we were being watched. Victor was standing a little apart, about twenty meters away from us in front of the hut. The wind was blowing through his light, curly hair and he looked just too good. He straightened the collar of his black coat and pinched his mouth. He was vain. His style of dress spoke volumes about that. Aurel followed my gaze. "The man is dangerous, Tu le sais," he whispered. He looked me in the eye one last time. Aurel knew a lot about me. He also knew that I was born in Paris and that I understood French perfectly but didn't want to speak it ever again in my life. Sometimes I thought he knew more about me than he let on. He got into the car. "You know," he repeated his statement cuttingly. I nodded. As he drove away, I saw it. He had put it in my coat pocket. I smiled cautiously and hurried over to Victor. "There you are," he smiled reduced. But his eyes looked very cheerless. "Yes," I unlocked the hut. Suddenly he grabbed my hand. "Diana?" I flinched. He had probably noticed. "It's cold in here," he said quietly. He must have wanted to say something. I hadn't missed it. I looked him in the eye, nodded and pushed the front door open with a jerk. The door hinges squeaked. Aurel hadn't oiled them. Annoyed, I remembered my instructions. "Don't forget to reduce the squeaking of the door." He had nodded eagerly. "Of course, mademoiselle." Crestfallen, I looked up at Victor. "It could have been nicer, I know." He withdrew his hand. The storm howled loudly in the beams of the hut. Cold shivers slid down my spine. Tonight I would be here alone with him. Alone. It worried me. "Diana?" I turned to him hesitantly. He had put wood in the stove and was lighting it with a match that was lying next to the stove. But it didn't really want to burn. The flames flickered hesitantly, almost tentatively, around the branches. It was a nice gesture, I thought at the same time, albeit somewhat suspiciously. "I want to ask you something," he said meaningfully.
Rebecca Wolff
