Better Left Buried by Emma Haughton Read Free Book Online Page B

Even so, passing the entrance to the park, I pause for a minute to watch a couple of kids mucking around on the swings. A girl and a boy – brother and sister probably. It seems late for them to be out – they can’t be more than eleven or twelve – but I’m guessing they live nearby. Most likely in one of the houses that back onto the playground.
    The girl, the smaller one, jumps off the swing and shouts something at her brother, and both of them burst into laughter. I swallow down a sensation like homesickness and the past comes slamming back.
    â€œSarah, jump!”
    I’m up the tree in the woods near Aunt Helen’s house, back when I was nine or ten. I’ve climbed too high and I’m stuck.
    â€œJump, Sarah. Jump. I’ll catch you.”
    I look down at Max. He’s holding his arms outstretched, his face tipped up towards me. He still had freckles then, spattered across his nose and cheeks, and thick dark hair he hated having cut.
    â€œGo on,” he says.
    So I jump. And land right on top of him, his body cushioning my fall. And both of us are laughing, half-winded, but laughing so hard it’s almost like crying.
    The memory makes me gasp. A pain in my chest like being crushed. I thought he’d always be there, my older brother, to break my fall.
    But now Max has gone. And suddenly it’s as raw and unbelievable as the first moment I heard it.
    He’s gone. And he’s left me alone.
    I clutch the food to my chest, trying to breathe. You’ll get over it, everyone says. You won’t feel this bad for ever. Time heals everything.
    But I’m beginning to wonder. Wonder whether something like this can leave things broken beyond repair.
    I stand there, motionless, until my head stops spinning, then set off up Colfox Avenue. The place seems oddly deserted. There are no cars around, except for those parked along the kerb, and no one else out walking. I’m halfway down the road when I feel a chill down the back of my neck, a kind of icy shiver. I spin round, scanning the street behind me.
    No one there. But I can’t shake the sensation that I’m somehow being watched.
    I blink back tears. Get a grip, I tell myself fiercely. Stop it.
    Crossing to the other side of the road, I take the shortcut behind the cinema. But a few metres along the alleyway, I become aware how dark it is, the large firs in the neighbouring gardens blocking most of the remaining light.
    â€œChrist,” I mutter, clasping the bag tighter as the panic begins to rise, fighting the urge to turn again and look behind me.
    Walk, I tell myself. But I can’t. I give in and spin around. For a second I think I see someone in the shadows, darting out of sight. Fear wells right up into my throat.
    I stand there, paralysed, staring into the gloom. But as my eyes adjust to the twilight, I can see there’s no one there.
    Oh god. What the hell’s the matter with me? Why can’t I pull myself together? It occurs to me I’m having some kind of breakdown. Maybe it’s all got too much and I’m starting to fall apart.
    But then I hear the sound of footsteps and I turn round and see him, only a few paces behind me. A man. Tall and dark and eerily familiar.
    I let out a small scream and drop the food on the ground as he runs forward and grabs my arm. “Sarah, isn’t it? Are you okay?”
    I stare at him for a moment, open-mouthed, then burst into tears.
    â€œOh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to give you such a fright. It’s Pete. You know, Max’s friend? We met at the…” He lets the words trail away.
    I nod my head, struggling to get control of myself. It’s not him, I repeat to myself. You’re okay. It’s not that strange guy.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Pete says again. “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you or anything. I only wanted to say hello…ask how you all were.” He bends down and picks up