The Salt Marsh Read Free Page A

voice calm and reasonable. She edged back. Noticed a badge pinned to his windcheater, a peace symbol. CND. She stalled. Her aunt was in CND, she was always going on about Aldermaston, the dangers of nuclear proliferation. She liked her aunt. Harmless commie, according to Jim. Could this man be dangerous if he was wearing a peace badge? Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he wasn’t the person who had prompted Jim to disappear, perhaps he was a friend of her father’s. Up close he seemed quite normal. Tall, not broad. Mousey hair. Anorak and jeans. His stare made her nervous, and the scythe-shaped scar was scary, but she had a marked cheek too and the bogey-face comments upset her. It was wrong to judge people by their looks.
    He said, ‘Your dad asked me to keep an eye on you and make sure you didn’t leave the fair until he got back.’
    â€˜Did he?’
    She couldn’t work it out. If Jim wanted to give her a message why didn’t he just say something to her before he vanished? Why did he ask this man to tell her? But what if he was telling the truth? Jim would be angry if she didn’t wait for him. Maybe it was sensible to wait.
    â€˜Do you know how long he will be?’ she asked.
    â€˜Not long. Why don’t you stay here with me? Here,’ he pushed the candyfloss stick he was holding at her, ‘have this. Your dad told me to buy you a treat while he was gone.’
    The candyfloss did it. Instant reaction. There was no way Jim would have told some strange man to buy her a treat, he wasn’t like that, he knew she would never accept candyfloss from a stranger. It was totally wrong. The scar-faced man was creepy. She ran. The man reached out to grab her as she passed, dropped the candyfloss on the ground.
    â€˜Stop.’
    He lurched at her. She dodged him, broke into a gallop. George was faster, overtook her, pelted down the road, towing her behind, her heart hammering.
    The man shouted, ‘Tell your dad he should take more care of you, otherwise something nasty could happen.’
    They reached the Cortina. Jim was there, waiting in the driver’s seat. He saw her coming, opened the door for her. She clambered in with George; the dog’s rank smell filled the car. Jim didn’t say a word, turned the ignition, accelerator, swerve. Along the bypass, white gypsy caravans huddled on the verge, tatty ponies tethered to the fence. She was still clutching the gift from the green-haired lady.
    â€˜What’ve you got in that plastic bag?’ Jim asked, looking in the rearview mirror.
    â€˜Willow bark.’
    â€˜Makes a change from goldfish, I suppose.’
    He was trying to be jolly. Pretend nothing had happened.
    She said, ‘Why did you leave me?’
    He shifted on his seat. ‘I had to. I thought you would know I had gone back to the car. And you had George with you.’
    The dog stretched his paws across her legs. ‘I worked it out in the end,’ she said. ‘I was scared.’
    He sniffed. ‘You were safer without me.’
    He said it brusquely. She went red, the tears of pent-up fear gathering. She blinked them back because crying always irritated her father, leaned her head against the side window. Watched the world go by. Eventually she sat upright again and said, ‘A man tried to stop me leaving.’
    She noticed the veins on the back of his hand as he gripped the gear stick.
    â€˜What man?’
    â€˜He was standing by the candyfloss machine and staring at me when I was looking for you. Then he tried to stop me when I was leaving and said you’d asked him to tell me to wait at the fair.’
    â€˜What did he look like?’
    â€˜He had a scar on his cheek.’
    â€˜Bastard. Fucking bastard.’
    Jim put his foot on the accelerator.
    â€˜I hope you didn’t say anything to him.’
    â€˜Well, I did because I thought he knew you and he looked normal – apart from his eyes and