SEVEN DEADLY THINGS (Henry & Sparrow Book 3) by A FOX (new ebook reader .txt) 📕

had wisely been built a good half kilometre away from the crumbling low cliffs that overlooked the beach. The east coast was eroding at a rate of at least a metre a year, so there was only a stretch of molehill-dotted field between them and the sea, a straight gravel path across it to access the shore. Buntin’s hadn’t even bothered to buy the land and put a crazy golf course on it. The grassy buffer was pretty much as it had been when she’d last been here… but there had to be at least seven metres less of it by now.

It took five minutes to get from their chalet to the sheds of shame at the arse end of the site. Past the ballroom, the pool complex and the adventure playground, then down the side of the indoor games centre and amusement arcade, along a narrow passage bordering the launderette and groundsman’s hut. And… there it was. A row of twelve chalets which looked like they’d been left exactly as they were when the place was first built back in the 1970s. Pebble-dashed and squat, with fraying felt on their flat roofs, accessed by a walkway of concrete slabs along the front. A washing line stretched between two poles along the length of the terrace, with swimsuits, towels and underwear pegged on sections of it. Further down from this outlying block was an area of scrubby land with a Land Rover and a caravan parked on it, along with piles of sandbags, some old guttering and a couple of upturned wheelbarrows. Kate remembered that the travelling acts who performed in the Embassy Ballroom sometimes preferred to stay in their own mobile homes, rather than pay the discounted fee for a chalet. So this area was made available for caravans and camper vans, with electricity hook-ups and a standpipe for fresh water. She wondered if Backflip Barney still called in each week.

In spite of the awful news she’d been landed with on their arrival she felt her mood lift and a smile weave across her face. ‘It looks exactly the same,’ she said, walking past at enough of a distance to avoid looking actively nosy, but unable to resist squinting through the Bluecoat block’s windows.

A young woman suddenly stepped out of the chalet on the end, her brown hair in a ponytail, wearing the Buntin’s blue and yellow tracksuit combo that Kate remembered so well. The girl glanced up at them with the ever-ready Bluecoat smile that was a non-negotiable legal requirement between 10am and 10pm. ‘Are you lost?’ she said. ‘This is the staff end of the site — nothing exciting down here.’

‘No, we’re not,’ said Kate, smiling back. ‘We were just being nosy. I was a Bluecoat here seven years ago. I was in the chalet next to yours.’

‘Oh!’ The girl laughed. ‘So you know all about the luxury, then?!’

‘Oh yeah,’ Kate said. ‘Does the shower still suddenly stop and then gush freezing cold water down your back?’

The girl rolled her eyes. ‘It bloody does!' She turned to lock the door behind her. ‘Sorry — I have to head up to the pool now. I’ve got to start a shift there.’

‘Oh,’ said Kate as she and Francis fell into step with the girl. ‘Um… Ellie, is it?’ she queried, peering at the name badge on the tracksuit top.

‘That’s me!’

‘I’m Kate — and this is my brother, Francis. We heard about the… about Martin,’ she said.

The girl glanced at her, shocked. ‘Did you?’

‘Martin was here seven years ago,’ explained Kate. ‘We were expecting to meet up with him. Gary told us right away, when we arrived in reception today.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ said Ellie. She looked sorry, too. In fact she looked suddenly pale and shaky.

‘Woah,’ said Francis, taking her arm as she swayed. ‘Hey… I think you need to sit down.’ He led her to a wooden bench at the edge of the path and she slumped onto it, holding her head in her hands.

‘God, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that…’ A sob escaped her. ‘I keep seeing him.’

Kate sat down next to her. ‘Were you there?’ she asked. ‘Did you find him?’

‘It was awful.’ Ellie sniffed, lifting her head and wiping her eyes. ‘He’d cut his throat. The water was pink with his blood… a couple of the little girls saw him. I tried to get them back out of there, but I was too late.’

‘Wait… you mean it happened while the pool was still open?’ asked Kate. She felt a rush of baffled horror.

‘Not exactly,’ said Ellie. ‘It was after hours but we always take the Alligators through at nine, when it’s bedtime. The kids, I mean. I’m one of the children’s aunties… we run the Alligator Club. It’s—’

‘It’s OK, I was an aunty too,’ said Kate. ‘We ran the Alligator Club back then, too. But go on…’

‘We do the Alligators’ song and get them marching around the ballroom before bedtime — you remember, I expect. Well, we’ve always marched them outside for the last couple of minutes and then, a couple of weeks ago, we started going through the pool complex every night, just for fun. It’s closed to swimmers by then, but Martin would leave the door wedged open for us and get up on his high lifeguard seat, and wave. He used to leave the low lights on and it was all calm and peaceful… it sort of settled the kids down.’

‘But this time..?’ prompted Kate.

Ellie gulped and dug out a tissue, blowing her nose. ‘He was in the water, in his Bluecoat uniform.’ She suddenly shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this,’ she said. ‘You’re guests. You really shouldn’t be hearing all the horrible details.’

‘No, it’s OK,’ said Kate. ‘We’re not just guests. I’m an ex-Blue so I’m not the same as a normal guest. Also, for the record, I’m a detective inspector. On holiday — off duty — but you know, this kind of stuff happens a lot