Cruel Summer by James Dawson Read Free Book Online

were meant
to be together. If they hadn’t had a snog by the end of the week, Ryan would eat his limited-edition Fred Perry military cap.
    Ryan had changed into a sharp shirt for dinner, and he noticed that the others had gone to a similar effort. Perhaps it was because everyone had been expecting at least some nightlife near the
villa, or maybe it was just because it was the first time they’d seen each other in ages; either way, everyone looked great.
    ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that this is about done. What do you think?’ Alisha left her salad and came to the stove. He held out a wooden spoon with a sample.
    ‘Yum, it’s good,’ she decided. ‘Where did you learn to cook?’
    ‘
Masterchef
obviously!’
    Alisha laughed and took another mouthful. Ryan was pleased to see Alisha looking so healthy – hopefully her boozalicious phase was over. It had been a hugely entertaining car-crash to
watch, but he could only imagine the toll it had taken on his friend’s body.
    Alisha took over the paella, adding some seasoning and attempting to tip the contents of the pan into a family-sized serving dish. Her arms wobbled. ‘Jesus Christ, this pan is heavy.
What’s it made of?’
    Ryan smiled. ‘I know, right? It’s like lead. Hey, you lot, it’s about done.’ He walked through into the lounge.
    The card game had finished and Greg was fiddling with some artefacts on the living-room mantelpiece that looked like they’d come from a pirate ship. ‘What’s all this
stuff?’ Greg asked Katie. He struck a pose with a battered goblet. ‘Do I look like Captain Jack?’
    Katie plucked it from his hands. ‘Careful, these are my dad’s prized possessions. Some old galleon went down off the coast about two hundred years ago. This stuff literally washes up
on the beach. My dad had it assessed – some of it’s quite valuable; most of it’s junk, though.’
    ‘It’s cool.’ Ben picked a sturdy-looking dagger off the wall. It was in a decaying leather sheath with a matching grip. He slipped the dagger out. Years at sea hadn’t
dulled the glint of steel; the blade gleamed, deadly as a shark’s smile.
    ‘That
is
cool!’ Greg agreed. ‘Give it here. Watch this.’ He took the knife and crouched in front of the coffee table. He made a pile of Erin’s fashion
magazines.
    ‘Greg, baby, what are you doing?’ his girlfriend asked.
    ‘Have you ever seen that thing?’ he replied.
    Ryan grinned. ‘Honey, remember the changing rooms after PE? We’ve all seen your thing!’
    Greg shot him a deathly look. ‘
This
thing.’ He splayed his fingers, laying his palm flat on the magazines. Then he held the blade over the gap between his thumb and
forefinger and brought the dagger down with a flash of light. In an instant, he pulled it back up and stabbed the space between his forefinger and index finger. Then onto the next gap. As he
repeated this, he moved faster and faster. Ryan screwed his eyes shut; Greg was going to lose a finger.
    Luckily, Erin felt the same. ‘Don’t you bloody dare!’ She barged into Greg, halting him.
    ‘Watch it, you’ll have my finger off!’ he snapped.
    ‘Yeah, that’s what’ll go wrong, numb-nuts. Give me that.’ Erin snatched the knife from him and handed it back to Katie.
    ‘Spoil sport,’ grumbled Greg, and Erin kissed the top of his shorn head.
    Ryan let out a long breath. He wasn’t great with blood. Disaster averted. ‘Come on you lot, food’s getting cold.’
     
    The waves breathed in and out in the distance while crickets and cicadas chirruped in the hills. A hideous windchime that Katie’s stepmum had strung up clanged as the breeze whispered
across the terrace, where they had chosen to eat their Spanish feast. Tea lights sputtered on the table and there was laughter. Lots of laughter. Somehow, even though everyone had mostly avoided
the past as a topic of conversation, there was still plenty to talk about. The annoying thing was that, after Erin’s shrewd