On his way to breakfast Gerry passed the parlour situated next to the breakfast room and glanced in. A woman was sitting on a couch near the fireplace.
A new guest, he thought.
As he was early for breakfast he decided to wait in there. The woman turned her head and nodded to him as he entered.
The room smelt musty after the evening’s rain; the heavy velvet curtains were drawn. He could see in the half-darkness that the woman was not young but that she had a mature beauty. She was wearing a dark knee-length dress and black high-heeled shoes.
‘Hi, I’m Gerry,’ he said, smiling.
‘Mary,’ she said, in a soft voice.
Gerry peered at her face. Despite her prettiness there was something odd, unmatched, about her eyes.
All at once he noticed that the room was cold, almost icy. And the woman kept staring at him in a strange way.
Feeling uncomfortable under her intense gaze, Gerry looked away. When he looked back at her he felt his heart beat wildly – she was standing now and seemed to be hovering several centimetres above the floor. Her eyes were still fixed on him, shining like lights.
Then suddenly, she seemed to shimmer. As Gerry watched in horror and amazement she glided right past him. And then she just disappeared.
Gerry was transfixed, unable to move. He felt nauseous and dizzy. He caught a glimpse of his own face, pale and astonished, in the gilt mirror above the fireplace.