The Wedding of Rachel Blaine Page 8

  “You're not imagining things,” I say out loud, keen to put that idea to bed. “It's just -”

  Before I can finish, I hear my phone buzzing. I hesitate for a moment before heading over and reaching into my coat pocket, and then when I pull the phone out I see that Robert's trying to call me. Puzzled, I swipe to answer.

  “Hey,” I say, “what -”

  “Are you standing me up?” he asks.

  “I'm sorry?”

  “Our date. You promised to meet me for a late-night swim.”

  I turn and look out the window, and I feel a rush of relief as I realize that the candle must be his. Sure enough, a moment later I spot a hand waving in the darkness.

  Damn, I can be a real idiot sometimes.

  “I'm really tired,” I tell him, “and -”

  “You promised,” he continues, cutting me off. “I've been looking forward to this all day. Frankly, it's the only thing that's been keeping me going, especially when I was out there at that pagoda. I know you're tired, but this is really important to me. It'll be just you and me, out here alone in the darkness, far away from the madness of all the wedding guests.”

  “We were far away from them when we were out at the pagoda a few hours ago,” I point out. “Is that all ready, by the way?”

  “Stop worrying. Come out and meet me.”

  “Will there be enough -”

  “You promised,” he adds, interrupting me again. “Don't worry, it's not bad luck, not as long as you're safely back in your room by midnight. Which you will be, I promise. I just want to have one more moment alone with you before all the craziness tomorrow. Come on, Rachel, what do you say? Are you going to take a dip with me or not?”

  ***

  “You really went to a lot of effort,” I point out as I swim back away from the legs of the jetty and look up, toward the candles that are flickering against the night sky.

  “What can I say? I'm an insufferable romantic.”

  I've got to admit, this whole set-up is beautiful. Idyllis. Perfect. Robert really knows how to pull out all the stops, and I'm glad that he persuaded me to come out here.

  Turning to him, I see that he's a few meters away. I can't really make out his face in the darkness, but I can see his silhouette and after a few seconds I start wondering why he hasn't said anything more. Sometimes Robert seems to go inward a little, as if he gets lost in his own mind, and now more than ever I wish I could reach into his thoughts and get a clearer idea of what he's thinking. Maybe that's something that'll become easier once we're married.

  “Penny for them,” I say finally.

  I wait, but he doesn't reply.

  Maybe he didn't hear me.

  “Hey, I -”

  Suddenly there's a faint splashing sound behind me, and I turn to look out across the lake. I can't really see much, just darkness spreading out into the night air, but the splashing sound continues for a few more seconds before being replaced by the calm, rippling sound of water all around us.

  “There's no-one else here, is there?” I ask, turning back to Robert. “You didn't arrange a surprise party, did you? You know I hate surprises.”

  “Are you happy, Rachel?”

  I open my mouth to reply, but then the strangeness of the question pulls me up.

  “Right now?” I ask cautiously. “Or... in general?”

  “Is this the happiest you've ever been?”

  “The happiest I've ever been?”

  “Is it the pinnacle?” he continues, still watching me from a little way away. “What I mean is, do you feel like tonight – just before our wedding – is the best moment of your life?”

  “It's certainly right up there,” I reply, although something about his tone seems a little off. After a moment, I realize that maybe I should sound more enthusiastic. “Of course I'm happy,” I continue, before starting to swim gently over to him. “Are you kidding? I'm about to marry the love of my life. And that's what you are. There's not a single doubt in my heart.”

  Reaching him, I put my hands on his shoulders.

  Even here, so close, I can't make out his features. All I see is darkness, but I know his eyes are staring back at me. With the moon high in the sky behind him, there's probably light on my face.

  “Are you happy?” I ask cautiously.

  I wait.

  No response.

  “Robert -”

  “I just wanted to be sure, that's all,” he continues, as if he didn't hear my question. “I wanted to know that tonight, of all nights, your whole life feels absolutely perfect.”

  “Well, it does,” I reply, happy to exaggerate a little and to not mention how crazy the day has been. “I've absolutely, positively, definitely never -”

  Suddenly I hear the splashing sound again, and I turn once more to look out across the lake.

  “Are you sure there's no-one else out here with us?” I ask, feeling a shiver run up my spine as I realize that someone might be watching us from the darkness. For a moment, I think back to the strange woman, although I immediately put such thoughts out of my mind. “I keep hearing this noise.”

  “It's nothing,” Robert replies. “It won't hurt you.”

  I turn back to him.

  “What won't hurt me?” I ask.

  “Nothing. I just mean that, yes, we're alone. It's late and everyone else has taken an early night. After all, we have to be up early in the morning so we can get ready for the ceremony. Maybe we should hit the hay as well.”

  “Now that I'm in here,” I reply, “I might as well -”

  “Come on, let's get up,” he says, turning and swimming over to the rickety steps that lead up onto the jetty. I watch as he climbs out of the water, and then once he's up there he immediately starts blowing the candles out. “It's cold,” he continues, clearly in a hurry all of a sudden. “The last thing we need is to catch pneumonia. I brought a towel for you. Time for bed, Rachel. What time are you getting up, again? I bet Becky and Andrea want to get started real early on your hair.”

  “They do,” I mutter, although I'm still surprised by how abruptly he ended a late-night swim that was all his idea in the first place.

  I climb up the steps and onto the jetty, just as Robert turns and hands me a champagne flute.

  “Not for me,” I tell him. “Do you want me to look puffy in all our wedding photos?”

  “One drink won't make you puffy,” he replies, forcing the glass into my hand. “Live a little.”

  “But -”

  “Drink it, Rachel.”

  I hesitate, before realizing that he won't be told. I raise the glass to my lips and pretend to drink, and then – as soon as Robert turns away – I pour the champagne into the lake.

  “Nice?” he asks, turning back to me.

  I hand him the glass.

  “The best,” I say, forcing a smile.

  “I love you, Rachel,” he continues, stepping toward me with his face still hidden in shadows. “Always know that. Never forget. I truly do love you.”

  “I love you too,” I reply, surprised by the tension in his voice.

  He leans closer and kisses me tenderly on the lips, and I swear I can feel tears on his cheeks.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “See you in the morning,” I say as I leave Robert at the door to his room. “And remember, don't come knocking, okay? Once midnight hits, it's bad luck for me to see you until the ceremony.”

  He smiles, but it's a sad, almost mournful smile.

  I stop for a moment, tempted to ask him what's wrong, but I quickly realize that there's no way he'll tell me.

  “Sleep well,” I add.

  “Are you tired?” he asks.

  “Sure.”

  “But are you really tired?”

  I pause, before nodding.

  “I'm exhausted,” I tell him, before checking my watch. “It's so late. It's bedtime for me.”

  “Me too.” He stares at me, still looking so utterly troubled by something. “Goodnight, Rach
el. Have the sweetest of dreams.”

  “I'll try.”

  With that, I turn and head along the corridor. I'm pretty sure Robert is still watching me, but I figure I just need to get to my room and finally go to bed, so I don't even look back as I walk around the corner and make my way toward the door at the end. Fishing my key-card from my pocket, I casually reach up and double-check that I didn't get my hair wet during that impromptu spot of night-swimming. The last thing I need is for my hair to get frizzy, or to go to sleep when it's even slightly damp. That swim was not the smartest idea, but I guess it's all worked out okay in the end.

  Reaching my door, I tap the key-card and step through. As I do so, however, my right foot brushes against something and I look down. Sure enough, there's a folded piece of paper that looks to have been slipped under my door while I was out.

  I pick the paper up and open it, expecting to find a good luck message from someone, but instead I'm faced with a handwritten note.

  Please meet me at the kitchen entrance as soon as you can.

  It's important.

  It might be life or death.

  I'll be waiting.

  I read the note over a couple of times, convinced that it must be some kind of joke, and then I lean out to look both ways along the corridor.

  There's no sign of anyone.

  I read the note yet again, but the words haven't magically changed. And as much as I want to dismiss this as some kind of last-minute prank by one of my friends or cousins, I feel a shudder run up my spine. I should ignore this and just go to bed, but at the same time I know I won't be able to sleep if I don't at least go and see who's waiting for me.

  ***

  There are bright lights still on in the kitchen's large windows, and I can hear machinery humming deeper inside the building as I make my way through the darkness toward the rear of the hotel. It's cold out here and I'm already regretting not bringing a warmer coat, but I guess I won't be out here for too long. As I look around, I can already see that there's nobody here, and I'm starting to think that maybe this was all just a prank designed to get me out of the room.

  Maybe someone's using my absence to sneak in with some bottles of champagne. I really hope not, but I wouldn't put it past my friends to want to organize a last-ditch party.

  Stopping near the double doors that lead into the kitchen, I look around to double-check that there's nobody here, and then I turn to go back around to the side of the hotel.

  “Ms. Blaine!” a woman's voice calls out, and I turn to see Elena stepping out of the shadows, clutching a wad of papers in her hands. “I was starting to think you might not come!”

  “What's this all about?” I ask, glancing around to see if anyone else is here. “I have to get to my -”

  “Do you know who he is?” she replies before I can finish. Her voice is trembling, as if she's scared, and after a moment she also looks around. “You don't, do you?” she continues, turning to me again. “You don't have any idea.”

  “Any idea about what?” I ask.

  She mutters something under her breath as she starts rifling through the papers. She seems frantic, almost panicked, and her hands are shaking as she tries to find whatever she's looking for. I want to stop her right now and tell her that this is none of my business, and to be honest I'm almost shaking in the cold night air, but then suddenly she pulls a slip of paper from the pile and holds it out for me to see.

  “It's him!” she stammers. “I knew it the moment I saw him!”

  “I don't have time for -”

  “Look!” she hisses, stepping toward me and thrusting the paper into my hands. “See for yourself! I'm right!”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” I say with a sigh, as I look at the print-out. “This is way too -”

  And then I stop suddenly, as soon as I see the familiar face in the picture. Without a shadow of a doubt, I know instantly that I'm looking at a photo of a slightly younger version of Robert.

  “What is this?” I ask cautiously. “Why are you showing me a photo of my fiance?”

  “That man's name is Robert Bridger,” she replies, her voice still trembling with fear. “Or at least, that was his name back then.”

  “My fiance's name is -”

  “His name is Robert Bridger!” she snaps. “He might have changed it since then, but last time he was here at the hotel his name was Robert Bridger!”

  “My fiance never changed his name,” I reply, staring at the photo for a moment longer before turning to her again. “This can't be him. You must have made a mistake.”

  “Look at the photo!” she says firmly. “See for yourself! Ten years ago, he was here at the hotel, when it was called the Argyle. I'd just started back then, I was working in the kitchen mostly, but sometimes I helped out with serving at big weddings. I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I recognized him as soon as I saw him.”

  She hands me another sheet, which I recognize as one of the photocopied pages that I saw earlier.

  “He was here to marry a woman named Kimberly Hawthorne,” she continues, “and then the night before they were supposed to get married, she vanished. There was a huge search, the police were involved, they even had divers in the lake. But she was gone, and no trace of her was ever found.”

  “You must be confused,” I say cautiously, even though I can't deny that the man in the photo looks exactly like Robert. “I admit that Robert Bridger and my fiance look extremely similar, but I'm sure that's just a coincidence. I think I'd know if he had some kind of secret double identity.”

  As soon as those words have left my lips, I realize how foolish they sound.

  “I remember seeing him in the days after Kimberly Hawthorne's disappearance,” she explains. “There were people who suggested maybe he was somehow involved, that maybe he'd killed her. You know what it's like, people always have their own theories, and there's so much gossip. But I remember seeing him, and he was distraught. I remember thinking that there was no way that man was responsible for his fiance's disappearance. He seemed almost suicidal.”

  I want to tell her that she's wrong, but somehow deep down I feel a faint inkling of fear. Robert's past has always been something of a mystery to me, and he has been acting strangely over the past twenty-four hours. In fact, he's always had a habit of seeming a little off now and again, but I told myself I was just overreacting.

  “Where were they supposed to get married?” I ask cautiously.

  “I told you! Here, at the hotel!”

  “But where at the hotel?”

  “They were going to use the old pagoda,” she replies, sending a ripple of dread through my chest. “I don't know if you've seen it, we don't really use it much now but it's out at the -”

  “I know where it is,” I say, interrupting her. I feel as if my chest is about to implode. My mind is racing, and I'm starting to feel like a complete idiot for not realizing sooner that something was wrong.

  “I should have told you earlier,” Elena says, “but I needed to be sure. You can understand that, can't you? And Mr. Percival told me that I shouldn't say anything at all. At first he denied that it could be the same man, and then he said that we couldn't ever tell you. Then he fired me and -”

  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” I reply, cutting her off. “I think I have to go and speak to my fiancee now.”

  “Please, I'm so -”

  “Thank you,” I say again, before taking the papers from her hand and turning away.

  I don't look back. With tears in my eyes, I head back through the hotel. Part of me wants to just run and never see anyone again, but I know that's not an option. I need to hear the truth from Robert's own mouth. I need to understand what's really happening here.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “How did you find out?” he asks a few minutes later, as he stands in the doorway that leads into his hotel room. He looks utterly shocked.

  “I really don't think that matters right no
w,” I reply, with tears in my eyes. “You should have told me right at the beginning that you'd been engaged before. That you'd been due to marry a woman who disappeared.”

  “Come in,” he says, stepping aside and gesturing for me to go into the room. “Let me explain.”

  “I don't think there's any explaining to do,” I tell him, struggling to hold back from screaming at him. I've never felt so angry, or so stupid, in my life. “There's nothing you can say, Robert.”

  “If you just -”

  “I don't want to hear it!” I snap. “You lied to me! You tricked me! Earlier today, when you took me out there to that pagoda, you told me you'd stumbled across it! None of that was true!”

  “Rachel, please...”

  “This is sick,” I continue. “I accepted your reluctance to talk about your past. I respected the fact that you said you wanted nothing to do with your family, but now I realize that was just your way of hiding the truth from me. There were so many strange little moments when I should have questioned your behavior, or your stories, but I just sucked it all up because I thought we had a future together. All that time, I thought I was the one hiding a big secret, but that was nothing compared to what you were holding back from me!”

  “After the wedding, we can -”

  “There's not going to be a wedding, Robert!” I say firmly, and right now I don't know how I'm not a screaming, sobbing mess.

  He opens his mouth to reply, but then he hesitates for a moment.

  There's not going to be a wedding.

  Those words strike horror into my soul, but at the same time I also know that I can't possibly go ahead and marry a man who told me so many lies.

  “I can't marry you after this,” I continue, as the tears start running down my face. “Not after all the lies and the secrets.”

  “Let's not make any hasty decisions,” he replies. “You're upset now, and I understand that, but -”