Burning Secrets Read Free Page B

she shouldered her handbag and made for the car. “Pepperoni.”
    She hooted with laughter. “You’ll be lucky. I’ll be amazed if I can get a loaf of bread.”
    He watched the car disappear up the track in its own dust-ball, then whistled to Chet. The two of them set off across the garden and through a gap where the wall had collapsed, in the direction of the sea. He didn’t bother to lock the door – it had been open when they arrived, and the neighbours clearly had a key, anyway. The clouds had broken up and widening gashes of blue appeared. In the sun it was hot after the cool dead air of the house. A narrow path about the width of Chet led through a field of long tussocky grass and thistles to a stile, where it met a wider path following the outline of the coast. Daniel headed in the direction of the beach, picking a broad flat stem of grass and stretching it between his thumbs to make a reed. It gave a piercing whistle when he blew on it.
    From the opposite direction, a woman appeared dressed in jogging gear, but striding rather than jogging. She had short dark hair and was about Daniel’s mum’s age, which meant she was of no interest and could be ignored. Except the footpath wasn’t wide enough for them to pass without some acknowledgement. Daniel prepared to plunge into the long grass to avoid conversation, but the woman’s friendly smile faded as she approached and she stopped in front of him, puzzled. “I don’t know you,” she said, which struck Daniel as an odd thing to say. In his experience, knowing random people who passed you in the street was the exception not the rule.
    â€œI thought I knew all the young people,” she went on, bending down to make a fuss of Chet, who responded by jumping up and planting his dusty paws on the front of her pale blue jogging pants.
    â€œOh,” Daniel mumbled, tugging Chet away. “We only just arrived.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of The Brow, which was out of sight.
    â€œAh. New boy. That explains it,” the woman replied. The puzzled look returned. “I wasn’t expecting anyone new. My mistake, no doubt. I’ll look into it. What’s your name?”
    â€œDaniel Milman,” said Daniel, uncertain what she meant, but unwilling to ask.
    â€œDaniel. I’m Mrs Ivory, Emma.” She held out her hand. Daniel passed his grubby palm surreptitiously across the back of his jeans before shaking. “See you in September, if not before,” she said, giving him a last quick smile and what was either a wink or just a twitch, before jogging off. Daniel smiled and nodded politely; it was easier than admitting ignorance. He wasn’t comfortable with spontaneous conversations with strangers, but it looked as though he was going to have to get used to it. Everyone on the island was so damn friendly. Or freaky, depending on your point of view. At least she hadn’t cringed away from Chet and his dirty paw prints.
    A steep flight of wooden steps with a rope handrail led from the cliff top down to the beach. The tide was a long way out, leaving a broad expanse of fine wet sand combed into ripples by the waves, which came rolling in with the full force of the Atlantic behind them.
    At the bottom of the steps Daniel produced a whiskery grey tennis ball from his pocket and waved it teasingly above Chet’s nose until the dog was nearly frantic with excitement, then hurled it as hard as he could across the sand. Chet took off after it like a hairy rocket. His technique for chasing down a tennis ball involved overtaking it to come at it from the far side as if rounding it up, as though he saw it as some peculiar breed of miniature sheep. Daniel ran with him, infected by Chet’s excitement and exhilarated at having the entire beach to himself. He could feel all the tension streaming out of him as he ran. Once he had burned off some pent-up energy, Daniel began to explore