IMPOSTURE: Hunters become the hunted in this gripping murder mystery by Ray Clark (book series for 10 year olds TXT) 📕

The circus came to Liverpool once a year and occupied a site close to the Albert Dock, which it shared with a travelling fair.

The highlight of the evening was The Big Top, which Anthony’s parents left till last. Before going into the tent, Anthony spotted the hall of mirrors and asked if he could have a wander round.

His mother joined him but they parted company quite early. The hall of mirrors was a strange place, which reminded him of the ghost train. The entrance was a darkened narrow corridor with wooden boards underfoot, and weirdly painted walls.

The music was new to Anthony, and was also befitting of something weird, designed – in his opinion – to frighten children, not encourage them. He discovered later in life that it was a tune called “Superstitious Feeling” by the band, Harlequin. He really didn’t like it and felt reluctant to go any further because he was alone.

With little choice, Anthony continued. As he turned a corner the hall itself opened out. A number of mirrors were randomly placed. Anthony stood in front of the first one, which broke all the tension. His reflection was a version of Anthony that was all fat and dumpy. He was about a foot tall and the same around. As he started to laugh, the figure in the mirror copied him and all his teeth resembled tent pegs at awkward angles, which made him laugh even more. As he held his belly and doubled up, the reflection in the mirror nearly disappeared through the floor.

Another mirror made him tall; others made him appear far away, as if in a tunnel, or very close up like a magnifying glass.

Anthony lost all track of time. The song started again. It was the beginning of verse two when everything went downhill.

The flashing of a light

Slashes through the night

Changing colours in the face

You meet a stranger’s eyes

Gripping like a vice

Noises shouting out a face

Anthony came across a mirror that warped all of his features. He resembled an alien. It was hilarious and he was helpless.

The laughing however stopped, almost immediately, because the mirror also distorted the features of the clown standing directly behind him.

Anthony turned very quickly. He had absolutely no idea where the hell that thing with the large head, black soulless eyes, white face and massive red nose had come from.

Anthony pissed himself and then saw a multitude of colours but was unable to put them together: red, blue, yellow, white. He managed a quick glance at the elephant sized feet but the clown suddenly shrieked with laughter and threw his arms in the air.

Nothing else registered because Anthony fainted. He finally came round outside, surrounded by a number of people – including the clown, who now wore a very sad face. Anthony screamed so loud that almost everyone in the crowd ducked or jumped back. He started hyperventilating but St John Ambulance was on hand.

Once inside the safety of a tent with the clown out of sight he managed to calm down. That was when one of the medics suggested he might be suffering from something known as coulrophobia. Anthony wasn’t sure what upset him most; the clown, or that he had actually wet himself. But the fear was so intense that he wet himself nearly every time he saw one.

The door opened, breaking his reverie. The nurse returned. She was young, early twenties, blonde, with a soft complexion and bright eyes.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you,” he lied. His nerves were still in tatters and all he wanted to do was leave.

“We were worried about you.”

“I’m okay now, honestly. It’s something I’ve learned to live with. Been terrified of them all my life.”

“So was my mum; truth be known I think everyone’s a little frightened of clowns.”

Anthony stood up. “Well, thank you for everything, I really appreciate it. But I need to be going now.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Anthony picked up his case, heading for the door.

“Don’t forget,” persisted the nurse, “if you need to talk we can put you in touch with someone.”

“Thank you.”

Anthony left the room, walked about ten yards with his head glancing in every direction. He eventually stood near the toilets with his back to the wall for at least ten minutes before he thought it was safe to leave.

He grabbed his case and raced for the exit doors.

As he reached them and stepped outside into the winter sunshine he noticed a mobile roadshow presented by Radio Leeds. It was a charity event to raise awareness of oesophageal cancer.

He pushed himself onwards and walked past the outdoor unit when he heard a pop quiz the DJ was running between two contestants. He asked one of them to name the song from the burst of lyrics.

Anthony heard it and froze. His head spun, his legs turned to jelly and his stomach was ready to revolt.

There’s trouble up ahead

My mind is flashing red

And evil’s just around the bend

You’re in a cold embrace

Lost without a trace

It’s getting very near the end

His grip on the case relaxed and he had to use the roadshow stage to lean against.

“Oh please, God, not again.”

It was the third verse from “Superstitious Feeling” by Harlequin.

Anthony really didn’t know which way to turn. He’d already fainted because of the clown, and now here he was listening to the words of the world’s unluckiest song – for him, anyway.

Every single time he heard the song, something bad happened.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and a voice asked if he was okay.

Anthony grabbed his case and simply replied that he was fine without even checking to see who it