Chasing the Dark Read Online Free PDF Page B

came from and leave civilised people alone?’
    He stomped after his horse, brushing the dirt off his trousers and muttering, ‘Chav’.
    â€˜Prat!’
    He gave me the finger without even bothering to turn round.
    â€˜C’mon, Oz.’
    I trudged off, wondering how Mum had dealt with stuck-up losers like Horse-Boy when she’d lived round here, and imagining all the snappy put-downs I should have come up with to wipe that sneer off his beaky face. Course, if my mate Bailey had been around we’d have had a laugh about it, taken the mick out of his voice, turned it into a running gag. Made it all right. But Bailey wasn’t around, and as far as I could see nothing was ever going to be all right again.
    As soon as I got back to Laurel Cottage I went through the bags of clothes Doreen had left in the shed for the jumble. I picked out a pair of golf slacks, a couple of shirts and a green V-necked sweater of George’s. The combination wasn’t going to win Yuri any style awards but it was a lot less eye-catching than the filthy-blood-stained-rag look he was going for at the moment. Back in my room I threw in a bar of soap, a nail brush and my phone charger. It was only when I was searching for a decent pair of socks to give him that I realised Doreen had been snooping through my stuff. Not tidying it, just moving it very slightly.
    Dinner that night was a kind of soggy rice pudding full of funny-looking mushrooms that smelled like they’d gone off. George raved about it, saying risotto was his favourite and no one could make it like his Dilly. But I bet you anything it was the remains of another catering jobbecause I couldn’t see our Doreen being fagged to make anything ’specially for him. After the business with the wallet I’d been worried she’d notice he was upset with me, but he was trying to hide it by making a big effort to keep the conversation going. I helped him out by asking for a list of chores I could do round the house. He said he’d have a think and smiled at me for the first time since he’d found out I was a thief. But Doreen wasn’t smiling, no sirree, and there was an awkward silence before George flicked her a look and said, ‘Your aunt and I heard from the education authority today.’
    â€˜Yeah?’ I said.
    â€˜They’ve found you a place at a local school – Park Hill High. Unfortunately they can’t take you until after the Easter holidays.’
    That was nearly six weeks away. Doreen downed her wine in one gulp like she was fortifying herself for the task of getting shot of me well before then. After that the conversation kind of ground to a halt. But George didn’t give up.
    â€˜I haven’t seen your dog around,’ he said. ‘Is he OK?’
    I was ready for this. ‘He wandered off when we were in the woods but he came back as soon as he got hungry.’
    He topped up Doreen’s glass. ‘Did you stumble across Saxted’s notorious crime scene when you were down there?’
    I looked up, not sure what he meant.
    â€˜In the woods. The boarded-up gates.’
    My pulse was racketing. ‘Oh . . . er, yeah. W-what is that place?’
    â€˜There used to be a lovely old house in there. What was it called, Dilly?’ She shrugged. ‘Saxted Grange, wasn’t it? Yes, that’s right, it had been in the Clairmont family for generations but it burned down in the sixties and Lord Greville Clairmont built a modern mansion on the site. I think his wife had a hand in the design – she was a famous model turned film actress – well, famous back then. Her name was Norma Craig.’
    My mouth went dry. I glugged down some water, trying to act like the name meant nothing to me. But that must be her – Norma Craig, the slanty-eyed woman in all those photos. She’d even signed her initials – N.C. – on the picture I’d found on the