The Taken by Sarah Pinborough Read Free Book Online Page A

his bottom lip, and then he met Alex’s gaze. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that there was something familiar about that boy, and I can’t put my finger on it. I can’t possibly know him, but I feel like I do.” He stared off into the distance again for a minute and then shook himself. “But I guess he might just have had one of those faces.”
    A thought came to Alex. “I wonder if it was one of those kids that played the trick on Mary yesterday.” Almost as soon as she’d vocalized it, she dismissed the idea. How the hell would they have known about 48
    Melanie Parr? Or the Catcher Man? Still, it was more credible than Mary thinking the little girl’s ghost had come back.
    Continuing on their way, the silence that had been so comfortable now seemed deafening, the rain like a shroud, and Alex was relieved when they climbed the short steep hill up to the store.
    “Here we are.”
    Alice Moore’s store was an all-in-one that served as the local post office and as a grocery shop with all the basic essentials. Despite her advancing age and generally nervous disposition, she had a good head for business, and over the past few years she’d increased her stock to ensure that everyone in the village’s pennies came into her till. Along one wall at the back was her DVD
    rental selection, and she’d also leased a Basic Baker, which cooked hot rolls, baguettes, and pies. The smell when you walked in was enough to make you leave with a bagful of food that you weren’t exactly sure you needed in the first place.
    Alice was just turning over the sign to open as they stepped up, and she smiled at them through the glass before pulling the door open.
    “My, you’re up early, Alex.”
    Alex smiled to herself as Alice’s eyes ran up and down Simon. Alice may have been talking to her, but her attention was definitely focused on the stranger beside her. The shop didn’t yet have the smell of baked bread that would fill it by nine, but Alice herself was perfectly made up, her hair set neatly in those curls that women of the sixties preferred and stuck to as they’d aged. Her eyes flitted from Simon to Alex and back again, the question hovering obviously in the air.
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    “Hi Alice.” Alex kissed her on the cheek. She may as well put the old woman out of her misery, if only to make Simon feel more comfortable. “This is Simon, a friend of Paul’s. He came down with him for Paul’s birthday.”
    Smiling, the older woman shook his hand. “Welcome to Watterrow.” Her brow furrowed. “And how’s Mary this morning, Alex? Has her head cleared?”
    Alex nodded, her stomach twisting slightly with the lie. Alice Moore was an old friend of her aunt’s and had been on the list of guests invited to Paul’s canceled birthday. A migraine had been the only excuse she’d been able to think of in the aftermath of Mary’s panic attack when she’d had to ring round and cancel—it wasn’t as if what had happened was anyone else’s business. People were people wherever you went in the world, and underneath all the country charm, which big city dwellers like Simon were so entranced by, were all the personality traits that could be found everywhere else: pettiness, jealousy, the need to gossip.
    But with country people, along with these traits came an ingrained toughness that was the result of living so close to nature. Country people dealt with things. Country people took care of their own business, and yes, that strength could work for you, but if someone chose to be cruel, well, they could do it better than most. She’d had her share of snipes in the pub and sharp, knowing looks when Ian left, not that anyone in town, apart from Dr. Jones, knew the cause of the split, but that didn’t stop them passing judgments.
    “She was still asleep when we left.” Simon answered Alice smoothly. “I’m sure she’ll be right as rain when we get back.”
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    “Well, that’s all right then. As long as she’s okay.” Alice