Free Cruel Minds by Malcolm Richards

Jerome asked, leaning across the empty seat.
    “Better.” Emily watched Melody disappear through the door. Across the table, Oscar was on his feet and brushing crumbs from his shirt.
    “Excuse me,” he said. His voice was deep and hollow, like words falling into a bottomless pit. “I don’t mean to stare, it’s just that you look so familiar to me. Have we met?”
    Ignoring the palpitations in her chest, Emily shook her head. “No, I don’t think we have.”
    His eyes pierced through her as he straightened his shirt collar. “It’s so strange. I’m usually very good with faces and I’m almost certain I’ve seen yours before. My name is Oscar.”
    She hesitated, the silence all too telling. “Emily.”
    “Emily just has one of those faces,” Jerome said, redirecting Oscar’s attention. “People always think they’ve met her before.”
    Oscar’s smile wavered. “And you are?”
    “Jerome Miller, actor and best friend.”
    For a moment, Oscar’s gaze shifted towards the three women deep in conversation at the far end of the table.
    “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Tell me, Emily, have you been to Meadow Pines before?”
    Emily shook her head.
    “I see. Well, if you’ll excuse me.”
    He pushed his chair under the table. Without acknowledging either of them again, he left the room. A cloying wave of anxiety racked Emily’s body.
    “What was that all about?” Jerome moved into the seat next to her.
    “It’s the bloody newspapers,” Emily whispered. “I just can’t get away from it!”
    “You don’t know that. Besides, you do have one of those faces.”
    Emily’s eyes narrowed. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
    “Nothing. I’m being funny.” He placed his hand over hers. “Just don’t worry about it. Even if he does recognize you, so what? It doesn’t mean he’ll bring it up, and it doesn’t mean you have to talk about it if he does.”
    “The whole point of coming here was to get away from it all. Honestly, you’d think being in the middle of nowhere for the weekend might have achieved that. But between that journalist and now this, there’s no chance of me getting some peace and quiet, is there?”
    Slouching in her chair, Emily folded her arms across her chest. She felt anxiety turn to frustration, frustration to annoyance.
    “That journalist hasn’t even spoken a word to you,” Jerome said. “If you want peace and quiet, all you have to do is shut your door or go for a walk. It’s as simple as that.”
    Emily shook her head. If only it was as simple as that. Shutting her door might shut out the people, but it didn’t shut out the thoughts in her head.
    “Perhaps I’ll go for a walk now before it gets dark,” she said.
    “That’s the spirit! You want some company?”
    “Why don’t you go do the dishes with Daniel? I’m sure he’d only be too pleased to receive your helping hands.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Emily Swanson,” Jerome said, feigning embarrassment. “Besides, he has Helen on drying duty.”
    “Even more reason to get in there. Make sure she isn’t snooping around, asking questions.”
    “My dear, Emily,” Jerome said in a mock, upper-class accent, “believe it or not, there are billions of people in this world who aren’t even aware of your existence.”
    Emily blew out a long stream of air. “It’s not them I’m worried about.”

CHAPTER NINE
    E mily found Melody in the garden, staring forlornly at the rose beds. She placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder and felt her muscles tighten.
    “Are you all right? You looked upset at dinner,” she said.
    Melody nodded, although her body language disagreed. “I’m fine.”
    She tried to smile, but a long sigh escaped through her lips.
    “I think I might go for a walk. I’d love to see the lake but I don’t know the way.”
    Melody swung her shoulders from side to side. She tipped her head and peered at Emily.
    “You’re kind,” she said. “We