Free Shadows by Jen Black Page B

and stared contentedly at the charcoal embers winking as the breeze stirred them back to life.  The citronella candle burned at her feet to stop insects nipping her ankles, and she twirled her third glass of wine in her fingers.
    The melon slice of the moon rose slowly over the meadows and treetops.  “We really should learn French properly instead of relying on a few half-remembered phrases taught at school.”
    Rory stirred, and glanced her way.  “I’ve been thinking about looking at a few properties, and seeing what the market is like.  We’d need to learn French if we did that.”
    Startled, Melissa stared at him over the rim of her glass.  He spoke as if they were a long established couple.  “Are you serious?  Don’t you think you are rushing ahead?”  Even as she spoke the words, a small bubble of happiness sang along her veins.  She dismissed it as an after effect of the wine.
    “Wouldn’t you like it?  I could barbecue sardines for you every night.”
    He sounded mellow.  Perhaps the wine was getting to him, too.  Perhaps she’d better distract him before the conversation turned serious.  “Rory, if you think you’re the only one who can use a barbie, think again.  My mother taught me years ago.”
    “But it’s a man-thing.”
    Melissa laughed.  “She taught me to fish, too, when we went camping.  And change a wheel.  I told you she was in the army, didn’t I?”  She volunteered the information without a second thought.  Drat.  She shuffled uncomfortably in her chair, and sought a way of distracting him before he asked about her father.  That was an area she was not inclined to enter.
    “That’s unusual.”  Rory stared into the trees, seemingly uninterested.  “Did I tell you Father was a doctor?  A good one.  A hard act to follow.”
    Perhaps she was off the hook.  Melissa studied his frowning profile.  “Did you need to follow him?”
    “They thought so, still do.”
    “But…”  She hesitated as he sat forward, frowning, picked up the poker and rammed it into the embers.  Displacement activity?  Symbolic of probing his deepest feelings?  Should she change the subject?  Or was this an opportunity to find out more about him?  She sipped her wine.  “But you’re a solicitor, not a doctor.”
    The poker rattled through the embers.  Sparks flew.  “Them and their carping.”  He shook his head.  “Everything I did had to be the best.  But since I refused to be a doctor—”  He jerked to his feet.  “I’m going for a walk.”
    Melissa stared after him, her eyes wide, her thoughts whirling.  What had she said to provoke such a reaction?  “Where are you going?”
    He was already several feet away and moving fast.  “Down the drive.”
    The pale blur of his shirt disappeared into the shadows beneath the trees.  How odd.  On first meeting, she’d thought him so self-assured and confident.  Now she’d caught a glimpse of a different man.  Had he had to fight to become a lawyer against his parents’ wishes?
    The citronella candle flickered in the breeze.  Melissa rose unsteadily to her feet.  The wine had been stronger than she’d thought.  Scraping the fish skins from the plates into the embers, flames licked at the oily remnants.  How much pressure had his parents put on him to make him so resentful?
    She glanced toward the drive, but Rory had vanished into the darkness.  She stepped onto the bolly and collected the dishes onto her tray.
    The gurgle of laughter came out of the night, warm, happy, feminine laughter.  Melissa’s hands stilled and goosebumps rose as she glanced around.  There was no one within sight.  “Rory?  Is that you?”  Her voice wavered, because the laughter had not come from Rory.
    It sounded like a woman.  A woman she couldn’t see.
    The small hairs lifted on Melissa’s neck.  She left the tray where it was and stepped to the edge of the bolly.  One hand on the comforting reality of the oak