StillWaters:Book4oftheSophieGreenMysteries Read Online Free PDF Page A

comfortingly as I kicked off my trainers, ripping out the insoles by accident, and trudged upstairs. Luke was up and dressed, his hair wet as he lounged at the kitchen table, picking at a plate of toast and flicking through the local paper.
    “Hey,” he looked up. “Maria not with you?”
    I shook my head. “She wanted to see the body.”
    Luke blinked. “Body?”
    “Yeah.” I took my jacket off and made a face at my reflection. “Some tourist hanged herself in the pub cave last night. Or this morning. They found her an hour ago.”
    Luke raised his eyebrows. “Bloody hell.”
    “Yep.”
    “Still waters run deep, huh?”
    “That’s not funny.”
    He grinned. “Didn’t mean like that. Sophie?”
    “Mmm?”
    “Did you go out in your pyjamas?”
    I made another face. “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”
    “They’re four inches above your ankle.”
    “Not my fault I have long legs.”
    Luke said nothing and went back to his paper. I let myself into the bathroom, showered and cleaned my teeth and went downstairs to get dressed, the cherubs glaring menacingly at me as I did.
    I love winter; I love the clear bright blue skies and the cosiness of curling up with a book or a film when it’s raining outside. I love cute little hats and soft fleecy scarves, the ladylike feeling of wearing elegant gloves with seams down the fingers. I love winter colours, all the dark wools and long skirts you can wear, and I love boots, so much more classy than sandals.
    I pulled on chocolate-coloured jeans and a dark red top with long sleeves and a gold pattern on it, left my hair to dry loose, and put on a little makeup because, although Luke and Maria and half of Port Trevan have seen me naked-faced, I still feel much better with a barrier between my skin and the world.
    When I went back upstairs, Maria was opening a bag of muffins from the bakery next door (I love this village thing), and the smell of fresh coffee was heavenly.
    “Did you see it?” I asked, and she nodded, making a gruesome face.
    “Not a pretty sight. She was kind of…” Maria waved her hand as she picked up her coffee, “…bloated. Like the pilot in Castaway. Only not so bad, it was probably only a couple of hours she’d been under high water.”
    Luke put down his muffin. “And I’m done with breakfast.”
    Maria grinned without a trace of contrition. “Sorry. Did you never see a drowning victim when you did your med training?”
    He shook his head.
    “Lucky you—”
    “I thought she was hanged,” I interrupted.
    “Yeah, that’s the consensus. They’ll find out after the autopsy whether she was alive when the water came over her. Probably not. I mean, a rope like that would probably asphyxiate her before the water could do any damage. Hey, you wanna go to Newquay today? I feel like going surfing.”
    We both stared at her.
    “What?”
    “You see a body that’s been in the water all night and you want to throw yourself under ten foot waves?”
    “ On the ten foot waves,” Maria corrected. “The idea is not to go under them.”
    “Sounds fun.” Luke said, surprising me. “Sophie, you coming?”
    What I wanted to do was sit at home and read my book, but I kept thinking about the dead woman a couple of hundred yards away. No. I didn’t want to be on my own today.
    “Sure,” I said, “but we’re not going to Newquay. I know somewhere much better.”
     
     
    Watergate Bay is no more than a beach with a caravan park and a couple of hotels attached. There’s a car park, some public toilets, a beach café and a lifeguard stand. That’s pretty much it. But the waves are the best you’ll find, and my brother Chalker and I used to spend hours pretending we could surf when we were kids.
    Luke and Maria hired wetsuits and boards, but I took one look at the ferocious waves and decided I didn’t want to end up like the pub cave girl. I dug out my book from my huge bag, and me and Norma Jean settled down with some hot chocolate (for