Free No Place to Hide by Susan Lewis Page B

three-legged, sack, and straightforward relay. He was on the football, cricket, and rugby teams, and only a couple of weeks ago he’d won himself a legion of fans at the village fete when he’d kept hitting ducks with his bow and arrow and had generously, though solemnly because that was his way, shared out the prizes.
    Though he and Abby fought on occasion, much like any other brother and sister, they usually made up in next to no time, though it had to be said that Abby was definitely the more forgiving of the two. Ben had a tendency to sulk, or perhaps it was fairer to say that he’d withdraw into himself and go to his room, or kick a ball around the courtyard on his own, or immerse himself in a movie until he was ready to bounce back.
    They were a popular pair among the neighboring children, with their cousin Wes living virtually next door; Chantal, Cheryl’s daughter, whom they both claimed as a best friend, halfway down the opposite hill; and Maddy’s kids, Neil and Nelly, in Brook Crossing Cottage at the edge of the park. These six formed the core group of friends; however, there were at least a dozen more who came and went regularly from the farmhouse, known more generally as sleepover central, since all their little chums seemed to agree that there was always more to do at the McQuillans’ than there was anywhere else in the village.

    Plus there was always something amazing to eat.
    By six that evening Justine had returned from the wedding tea to find the park at the heart of the vale all set up ready for the recitals. At least six dozen white foldable chairs were cluttering up the spaces between the leafy beech and horse chestnut trees, while the stage, complete with roughly cobbled-together wings and a roof to hold up the curtain and lights, was in front of the playground. Jolly triangles of bunting were swinging between low-hanging branches, while fairy lights in all colors were snaking up most of the trunks. A handful of local kids who weren’t taking part in the show had already climbed up among the foliage to sort out the best viewing positions, or those closest to the catering tables, which were already set up around the fence.
    Once satisfied that there was nothing more she could do in the park for now, Justine took herself up to the farmhouse to check on progress there. “Is everyone dressed, rehearsed, and ready to go?” she called out as she climbed the stairs.
    “Mum! I can’t find my hat,” Ben cried, rushing onto the landing in a panic. “Where did you put it? Dad can’t find it either…”

    “It’s all right,” she soothed, “it’s at the top of my wardrobe to stop it getting crushed.” Her eyes were twinkling with merriment. “You look just the part,” she informed him, feeling quite proud of her own inexpert handiwork, since she’d put the costume together herself.
    His handsome little face flushed with pleasure, though he expertly ducked the quick ruffle she attempted to give his rapidly darkening hair. It wouldn’t be long, she was thinking as she followed him into her and Matt’s room, before he was the same coloring as his father, and she hoped for his sake that his freckles might soon disappear, since he considered them babyish. Ben detested few things more these days than being thought babyish.
    “Here you are,” Justine declared, bringing the hat down from a top shelf and setting it on his head.
    “Is the feather right?” he asked, dashing to the mirror.
    She watched the careful scrutiny of his reflection, and had to fight not to scoop him up for a cuddle. Apparently those had recently become childish too, apart from when he fell and hurt himself, or he was feeling unwell, when he might suffer one to make her feel better.
    “Wow! It’s William Tell!” Matt exclaimed, coming into the room with a green bob-cut wig in one hand and another in pink on his head.
    “Dad, you look really silly,” Ben informed him.
    “No,” Matt protested, checking himself in the