Free Dead Jealous by Sharon Jones Page A

disappeared up the metal steps into the van, exchanged a few words with the hulk who was on serving duty, and reappeared without the bag. ‘Come on. Let’s go and check out the stalls. I’ll buy you an aubergine burger or something.’
    The two of them wandered through the market that had sprung up some time that afternoon. There was a trend for hanging fairy lights and Moroccan lanterns from the awnings. The soft light from the coloured glass and the warmth of the evening made Poppy feel as if she’d somehow travelled to a distant land, and after half an hour or so, the thought of Beth’s lifeless body was receding.
    Tariq darted between the stalls, never standing in one place for too long.
    ‘What d’you reckon?’ he asked, pulling on a red and blue jester’s hat.
    ‘Kind of suits you, actually.’
    ‘We need to find one for you.’
    ‘We really don’t.’
    ‘Got it!’ He spun around and in his hands he held a sparkly crown. He grinned and placed it on her head.
    ‘Tariq!’ she protested.
    ‘A crown for the prettiest girl at the fair.’ He leaned down and his lips brushed lightly against hers before he turned, dumped his own hat and paid the stallholder for hers.
    Her breath caught. In her head there was so much noise that it sounded like a freight train was thundering through her brain. But she knew what she wanted to do.
    As soon as Tariq turned back to her, she reached up a hand and slid it around his neck. His skin felt warm. And he smelled good, which surprised her. After he’d been working in the burger van all day she expected him to smell of chip fat. But no. He smelled of bergamot, jasmine and something else warm and inviting.
    His arms looped around her waist. Warm breath tickled her ear as he leaned in. ‘Let’s go somewhere quieter.’
    He grabbed her hand and led her away from the campfires and fairy lights. The lake was the obvious place to go. Quiet. Romantic. And, er...hello? Dangerous? She was relieved when he led her in the opposite direction, down the track that led back onto the lane that counted as the main road in these parts.
    For a second she hesitated. Was she really going to do this – snog some guy she’d just met when she was in love with somebody else? Yes, she told herself, that was exactly what she was going to do. Michael has a girlfriend . It was unfair to both of them for her to sit around moping over him. This was OK. This was what people did when they were single: they had fun and occasionally kissed gorgeous strangers at Pagan festivals.
    Away from the fairy lights, the night was growing dark. Poppy looked up and saw the dim ghostly glow of the Milky Way: distant suns glinting away with nearer, brighter stars. To the north, Draco the dragon swooped across the sky. And one of those glinting tiny dots was the Cat’s Eye nebula – a dying star emitting its last pulses of hot energy. At least when it died it would give birth to new stars. Maybe even new worlds. What purpose had Beth’s death served?
    Tariq pulled her off the track into the shadow of the fir trees and, before she could do or say anything, he kissed her.
    Hands cupped her cheeks, fingers tickled behind her ears and down the sides of her neck, and the crown he’d bought her toppled from her head.
    His body seemed to be radiating heat. And she wanted that warmth. She wanted him to carry on kissing her because it was nice, so much nicer than all those fumbled nothings at school discos. Her heart pounded in her chest. But it was good – she felt alive, not dead.
    Death, Poppy. Your last card was Death.
    She broke from his lips and laid her head against his chest. Images spun in her head like water being dragged down a plughole: Beth’s hands blue with cold; Michael’s face before he’d stormed off and left her; the way the light had glimmered above her on the surface of Lake Windermere as she’d sunk, down, down…down.
    Tariq’s arms enclosed her.
    ‘Are you thinking about that girl?’ he asked,