Free The Taken by Sarah Pinborough Page B

that Mary wasn’t in the room, Alex wondered if her aunt was even up. Well, she was going to have to get up soon, that was for sure. After Mary’s experience in the garden the previous day and what the vicar had said before he died, Alex found the idea of her aunt being asleep and vulnerable in this house to be a little bit frightening.
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    Warn them. That’s what poor Reverend Barker had said. Was Mary one of the people that needed to be warned?
    “No.” Paul stared at her and then Simon, his eyes wide and shaky. “What the hell happened to you two?’
    Glancing down at her jeans, Alex could see the dark stains on her knees that had nothing to do with the soaking she had received outside, and looking at Simon in the bright light, she noticed the shadows of pink that lingered on his blond hairline. Had that come from her? From her own head when she’d clung to him? She wondered how many more ghosts of blood were visible on her and realized how they must look to Paul. Like veterans of some awful war zone. The kind of place Simon was used to.
    “The phone line was down at the shop too, and then we thought we saw something at the church.” Inside, she almost giggled. Sure, we thought we saw something.
    Imaginary children pointing our way to dying men. What would the police make of that? It would be her they’d be arresting.
    “We went inside and someone had vandalized the altar, or maybe he even did it himself, who knows, but then we went outside and found Reverend Barker dying.”
    She knew the words were coming out in a blunt flood, but she couldn’t help it.
    “He either jumped from the bell tower or was pushed. And he said some strange stuff before he died. About that girl, Melanie Parr.” She stared at Simon and then at Paul. “How the hell are we going to contact the police if the phones are off?”
    Paul stared back at her for a moment, no outward sign of shock at their news apart from the telltale
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    clenching of his jaw, something only she would recognize, and then he grabbed the hand towel and passed it to her.
    “Jesus. Jesus Christ.” He paused for a second and then drew himself up tall.
    “Yes, you’re right, we’ll have to find a way to get hold of the police, but you also need to get warm and dry.” He stared at the stains on her trousers. “And you’ve been sick. I think a cup of tea for you.”
    As she squeezed the water out of her long ponytail, watching him putting the kettle on, she remembered just how much strength he had. Yeah, Paul could be a lot of things, but weak wasn’t one of them. It was easy to take things out on the people you loved. An old cliche, but true. She’d been hard on everyone, and the shit in her life was nobody’s fault. Except maybe Ian’s, and that pain was too big to face.
    Paul pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, making the roundness of his belly more prominent as it escaped over his waistband.
    “Are we sure all the lines in the village are down?”
    Alex shrugged in response. “If ours is and the shop’s is, then I’m pretty sure they all are.”
    Simon took off his glasses and rubbed his face, leaning back against the kitchen counters. Alex thought he looked tired, and felt a pang of sympathy for him. It hadn’t been much of a party weekend for him so far. His voice was still calm when he spoke, though. “I don’t suppose there’s a policeman in the village, is there?”
    Paul’s laugh was loud, short, and humorless. “You guessed right, my friend. We don’t even have our own postman out here. I think the nearest police station is Taunton, and that’s over twenty miles away.” He gazed out of the small panes.
    “And I doubt we’d make it there in the car. Most of the roads will be flooded by now
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    and more than likely we’d get stuck somewhere, even if we took the Land Rover.
    A tingle like electricity ran through Alex’s veins as a thought ate through her brain and straightness came back into her spine. As she moved nearer