Free Dead Jealous by Sharon Jones Page B

softly.
    She nodded.
    ‘I’m not doing a very good job of distracting you, am I?
    ‘That’s OK.’
    Tariq’s hand slipped down her arm. He took her hand and led her back in the direction of the festival, stopping only to retrieve her crown from the grass. He placed it back on her head and smiled. ‘So – where do you come from? I don’t know anything about you.’
    ‘Windermere. You?’
    ‘Blackpool.’
    Poppy snorted. ‘Blackpool?!’
    ‘Yeah – what’s wrong with that?’ he asked with mock haughtiness.
    ‘I just didn’t think anyone actually lived there. Thought it was all cheap B&B’s and tacky fairgrounds. Although it explains the funny hat obsession.’
    ‘It’s not where I want to be, believe me, but at the moment it’s where I need to be.’
    ‘Why?’
    Tariq glanced at her as if deciding what to tell her. ‘It’s a long story.’
    ‘We don’t seem to be doing anything else at the moment.’
    He stopped abruptly, pulled her to him and whispered, ‘We could change that.’
    Poppy laughed, put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him away. ‘No way. Not when it’s just getting interesting.’
    ‘Believe me, it’s not interesting.’
    She smiled at him until he rolled his eyes and carried on walking.
    ‘Usual story: Dad did a runner, left us with no money so I had to get a job.’ He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. His gaze dropped to the ground. ‘I told myself it was just short term, y’know? But the problem is, you start to get ravelled up in things. I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to undo it all.’
    What a strange thing to say. She was about to ask him what he meant when the wind picked up, bringing with it the sound of drums and bodhrans beating a strangely militaristic rhythm against the backdrop of rustling leaves. Whistles joined in just as the breeze switched direction. Suddenly it sounded like the music was coming from behind them. She glanced over her shoulder, half convinced that she’d see a ghostly fairy army marching towards them. Of course there was nothing there…except…
    She could just make out the curve of a shoulder and the glint of moonlight in long copper hair. It was a woman, standing in the shadow of the fir trees, watching them.
    Poppy’s feet stopped moving. She pulled her hand out of Tariq’s.
    ‘Poppy?’
    ‘There’s someone there,’ she whispered.
    Tariq glanced around. ‘What? I don’t see anyone.’
    ‘She’s right…’ Poppy pointed to the fir tree, but there was nothing but shadows where seconds ago there had been flesh and bone. She hadn’t imagined it. There had definitely been someone there.
    ‘Where are you going?’ Tariq shouted after her.
    Poppy stumbled over the uneven ground to the place where she had seen the figure. There was a small gap between the swooping branches of the fir tree and a dense thorny bush. She pushed aside a branch and eased past, ignoring the sharp twigs that slashed at her arms.
    Seconds later, Tariq burst through the bush, gasping and cursing. He stopped beside her.
    ‘If this was some elaborate plan to get me somewhere—’
    ‘—Shhh!’ Poppy hushed him.
    The darkness was thick with the smells of rotting bark and the fresh green sap of the fir trees. The breeze that had carried the sounds of fiddles and drums switched directions once again and they were left listening to nothing but the rustle of the air through leaves and the sound of their own breathing. Nothing moved.
    ‘What exactly are we doing here?’ Tariq whispered.
    A sudden gust ripped through the fir trees, with the roar of waves crashing against rocks. Poppy’s hair whipped into her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and for a second she thought she heard a girl’s laughter.
    The wind died just as suddenly as it had risen. She brushed her hair away from her eyes and looked from shadow to shadow. Nothing.
    ‘I thought – I thought I saw...’
    ‘Come on.’ Tariq grabbed her hand and pulled her back the way they had