Page 23 of Highland Getaway
‘Sinister?’ Millie tilts her blonde head to one side in surprise, like a spaniel. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘Oh, nothing really,’ I say, airily. ‘It’s just .?.?. don’t you think the red dress looks a bit like a splash of blood against the misty sky?’
I widen my eyes innocently, although, inside, I’m already cringing at how completely unsubtle my attempt to establish evil tendencies in my fellow influencers is.
‘Oh, yes,’ says Millie, leaning over Zara’s photo to get a closer look. ‘I suppose I see what you mean. Sort of.’
‘And is it just me, or does it look like she’s runningawayfrom someone, rather thantothem?’ I go on, warming to my theme. ‘Almost as if she’s beingchased?’
‘I think it’s just you,’ says Zara dryly. ‘It’s supposed to look like a scene from a fairy tale, not a horror story.’
‘The original fairy tales are very similar to horror,’ murmurs Yasmin, shocking us all into silence with the reminder that she can actually speak. ‘They’re very dark.Verydark.’
‘That’s right.’ I nod, looking at her through narrowed eyes. She’s dressed head to toe in black, as usual, and keeps reaching up as if to adjust her sunglasses, only to realise she’s not actually wearing them for once.
‘Like in “Hansel and Gretel”,’ she says. ‘When the witch is literally fattening the children up to eat them. Or the one where the stepmother murders her stepson and cooks him into a stew.’
Yasmin pops a glacé cherry into her mouth from a bowl by the drinks tray.
‘Then she serves it to his father,’ she adds, matter-of-factly. ‘I think about that a lot, you know. Well, bedtime for me, I think.’
Without another word, she slings her bag over her shoulder and heads for the door, swerving to avoid the group on the sofa as she goes.
The three of us stare after her, open-mouthed.
‘My favourite fairy tale is “Cinderella”,’ says Millie, in a small voice. ‘It’s just about shoes, and handsome princes. I’m not sure I’d like these other ones. They seem a bit .?.?. bloody.’
Zara pats her reassuringly on the arm and starts going through the Instagram photos again to distract her. I sip my drink thoughtfully as I watch them.
Zara and Millie were out by the gates when I was taking my first set of photos, and then at the pool later. And I know Bex and Daniel were in the lobby, then the gardens all afternoon. Which means Yasmin is the only one of the group who was unaccounted for at the time the clothes must have been returned to my room.
But how would she have got her hands on them in the first place? And why would she want them?
‘This is really good, actually,’ says Zara, interrupting my chain of thought as she scrolls past the ‘thumb face’ selfie on my feed and stops at the photo Hunter took for me by the pond. ‘I wish I’d thought of it.’
‘Thanks,’ I reply, blushing. ‘Not that it’s done me much good, though. It didn’t get anything like the reaction yours did. And I lost ten followers.’
‘Oh. Well, you know .?.?. they’re probably jealous,’ Zara replies, looking unconvinced. ‘People can be a bit funny like that.’
‘That’s true,’ agrees Millie. ‘I don’t even read the comments on my posts anymore; they just make me feel horrible about myself. Someone once messaged me and said I was obviously evil, just because I said I don’t watch the news. But the news is, like,really sad, you know? And I’m not evil. I’m really not.’
She sniffs loudly, and Zara pats her on the arm again, while I nod uselessly, mentally striking Millie off my list of suspects. She’s way too childlike to be capable of doing anything to intentionally mess with someone.
‘Of course you’re not,’ Zara says soothingly. ‘Why don’t you go and sit down; I’ll bring you another glass of fizz.’
Millie nods tremulously and goes to sit by the fire.
‘Sheisevil, though,’ Zara tells me with a wink, grabbing another couple of glasses.
‘Sorry, did you say evil?’ I put down my empty glass and pick up a full one, convinced I must have misheard.
‘Oh, yeah,’ says Zara, nodding. ‘You should’ve heard her earlier, talking about how she was going to win this competition. Totally cut-throat. She might look like a little doll, with all that baby pink stuff she wears, but trust me; the only doll Millie’s like is Chucky. You know, the one who—’
‘Murders,’ I reply, my entire body cold despite the heat from the fire. ‘Yeah.’
‘Oh, not just that,’ says Zara cheerfully. ‘Chuckytorturesfirst. And so would Millie. Trust me.’
‘I .?.?. but she seems so harmless,’ I protest, taking a much larger gulp of my drink than I meant to. ‘Surely it can’t all be an act?’
