Burning Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

the boundary of the school playing field and stopped for a moment to rest. At closer range they could see that the children weren’t as young as they’d first supposed, but were mostly teenagers, and were picking leaves from amongst the blades of grass and collecting them in pockets, paper bags or plastic lunchboxes. Those nearest the boundary stopped and glanced up at the newcomers, shielding their eyes against the glare of the sun. This movement triggered a Mexican wave effect around the field, with everyone gradually abandoning what they were doing and kneeling up to get a proper look. Daniel and Louie walked on hurriedly.
    Another few minutes brought them to the village itself – a dozen or so houses around a triangular green formed by the convergence of three roads. In the middle of the green was a pond, patrolled by pristine white ducks, and there was outdoor seating – overspill from the café opposite – which was occupied by a group of teenagers drinking coffee and enjoying the last gasps of summer.
    Daniel had the sensation of stepping out on stage as he and Louie made their self-conscious way across the green towards the café. Conversation at the tables fell silent as they passed, all eyes following their progress with frank but not unfriendly curiosity. The back of Daniel’s neck felt warm and prickly, as though stares of that intensity could actually generate their own heat.
    â€œDo we look like aliens or something?” Louie hissed as they reached the safety of the pavement.
    â€œI don’t know whether I feel like a celebrity or a freak,” Daniel muttered back, hooking Chet’s lead to a bollard and settling him down with a Bonio.
    Inside the café was no better. All heads turned as Daniel and Louie hovered in the doorway, uncertain whether to sit and wait to be served or order from the counter. Fortunately the woman behind the till came to their rescue and beckoned them forward. “What can I get you?” she asked, smiling helpfully. There didn’t seem to be anything much on display, apart from a modest selection of filled rolls.
    â€œA Diet Coke and a Tango, please,” said Daniel, bringing out a handful of change.
    The woman sucked in her breath and shook her head as though Daniel had requested some rare and exotic cocktail. “I don’t think I’ve got any of that. Goodness me, Coca-Cola . That’s a blast from the past. No one’s asked me for one of those for a long time.”
    Daniel and Louie glanced at each other. “Oh, er, well, Sprite, 7-Up, whatever?” Louie suggested.
    Again, this drew a blank. Daniel began to wonder if this was a wind-up, a special way of letting strangers know they weren’t welcome, but the woman didn’t seem hostile. On the contrary she was full of apologies for not stocking what they were after. He glanced around to see what the others in the café were drinking: bottled water, black coffee and glasses of murky-looking lemon squash.
    â€œWater?” Daniel suggested, uncomfortably aware that they were the focus of fascinated attention, and wanting only to get away as quickly as possible.
    â€œHold on,” said the woman, as if struck by inspiration. “There might be some of that stuff out the back.” Before they could protest, she clattered through a curtain of plastic beads and a moment later they could hear the distant sound of furniture removal, crates being dragged across the floor and bottles clanking. Minutes passed, Daniel and Louie’s discomfort increasing as whispered conversations struck up at the tables behind them, the words ‘new’ and ‘yesterday’ and ‘Brow’, clearly audible above the murmur.
    Beside him he could sense Louie beginning to simmer. She couldn’t stand being stared at, whispered about, sniggered over. That sensation of walking into a room and it falling silent because everyone has just been bitching about