Lonely Hearts 2

Chapter eighteen: Emma

The phone shrieked later that evening and Louis picked it up, his mood visibly dampening as he greeted the person on the other end of the line.

He went upstairs to his room and shut the door. Amelié sighed, making Max roll her eyes.

"Dinner's ready." She said. "Will one of you go and set the table?"

I shared a look with Max and we had a silent argument before she sighed and got to her feet.

Amelié glanced upstairs where we could hear Louis shouting in French. I blinked and Amelié caught my eye and smiled. Pretending everything was ok.

I knew she was pretending because I've had so much practice myself.

Amelié left to check on the ham and I listened to Louis, feeling an old, familiar fear curl around my heart. It thumped in my chest beating out the familiar tune of danger that I had when I was little and Lincoln had an angry outburst.

When Max entered the room to inform me dinner was ready, I slowly unfurled myself from the sofa, trying to shake off memories I didn't realise I still had.

Memories I hadn't realised still controlled me.

~*~

We sat around the table silently, pretending to eat our dinner and keeping our eyes on our plates, as if by not acknowledging one another, we wouldn't have to talk about what was happening. I saw Max shake slightly out of the corner of my eye and resentment burned when I couldn't find a way to comfort her like I used to.

I was too scared to move.

Louis entered the room whilst we ate, speaking in fast, angry French. Max risked a peek but I kept my gaze on my plate out of habit. I wasn't brave enough to look up. Looking up only led to trouble.

Amelié watched him silently whilst Max and I shared a glance. It wasn't often Louis lost his temper.

"Je me fiche de ce que tu dis, je ne vais pas changer d'avis." He snapped.

He hung up the phone and sat down, clenching his fists and taking some deep breaths. Silently, he buried his head in his fisted hands and Amelié stood up to stroke the back of his neck gently.

"It's alright, mon amour. I'm here." She murmured into his ear and I looked away, not wanting to intrude on a strangely intimate moment.

I watched Max, who looked as frightened as I felt. I wondered if she was remembering too. Remembering things she thought she had blocked out. Memories she had convinced herself she was too young to remember.

Louis muttered something in French about seeing his sister and pushed his chair away. Amelié replied and he shook his head, giving her a kiss.

Without another word, he left the room and we heard the front door open and close before the car started.

Amelié sat down and looked at the pair of us.

"Finish your dinner, girls." She said.

Silently we picked at our plates. I looked at my dinner feeling my stomach swell with fear like it did when I was younger.

I jumped up from the table and ran to the bathroom, feeling my dinner push out of me in a frightened rush.

"Hey, Emma, sweetheart, are you ok?" Amelié sat next to me, pulling my hair back and rubbing my back gently.

I rinsed my mouth out and tried to stop myself from shaking. Amelié tried to hug me but I wriggled and thrashed until she let go and backed off, allowing me to push her away and slam the door to my room to hide until the painful memories stopped.