Discarded M. Hunter (the snowy day read aloud TXT) 📖

to place the third in it. She knew better than to accept sweets from strangers – that had been drilled in long ago – but this guy wasn’t exactly a stranger; he was Kim’s dad, and he wasn’t asking her to go with him, merely giving her a free chocolate bar. Where was the harm?

She picked up the bar and placed it in his hand, before following him up to the counter where she paid for her drink, and then waited for him by the door.

‘There you go,’ he said, offering the Twirl once they were both outside. ‘I’d better be on my way or Kim’s mum will have my guts for garters. Do you need a lift home?’

She quickly shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine, thank you.’

The man pulled up the sleeve of his grey suit jacket and looked at his watch. ‘Are you sure? It is getting late. You live near St Margaret’s, don’t you? I could drop you off there if you want? It’s on my way home.’

‘Thank you, but I’m not allowed to go in cars with people I don’t know.’

He smiled, and held up his hands as if surrendering. ‘That is very sensible! I hadn’t thought about it like that. You’re quite right to be wary, and I only hope Kim is as sensible as you if a man ever offers her a lift home. Well, so long, and it was nice meeting you… Wait, I didn’t catch your name?’

‘Joanna,’ she said, thinking nothing of it.

‘I’ll tell Kim you said hi, Joanna,’ he replied with another smile.

He opened the door of the long BMW and climbed in, starting the engine but not pulling away.

Joanna lingered, waiting to see which direction he would go in, but the car remained stationary. She looked down at her own watch and her eyes widened with panic. She hadn’t realised just how late it was. Her mum and dad would surely have noticed she wasn’t home and would be starting to worry. If she ever wanted to make a sneaky trip back to the newsagent’s shop again, she would have to get home sharpish.

She looked back along the road, trying to remember which way she’d come, and whether there might be a more direct route home, but she couldn’t even be certain which road she’d come along.

Moving to the side of the car, she could now see the man was typing something into his mobile phone, but he looked up and smiled warmly when he saw her watching. The electric window lowered, and he leaned over the seat to talk to her.

‘Is everything okay, Joanna?’ he asked, with just a hint of concern.

‘I wondered,’ she began, ‘if it’s not too much bother… would you be able to give me that lift to the school?’

He locked his phone, and returned it to his inside jacket pocket. ‘Of course I can. Climb in the back. I think Kim’s booster seat is in there.’

She heard the rear passenger’s side door unlock, and clambered in, finding no sign of a booster seat. Placing the Fanta and Twirl between her legs, she fastened the seat belt and glanced at her watch again. As the car pulled away, she suddenly realised her parents would be on to her little jaunt if she returned to the house with evidence of the Twirl and Fanta, and would have to try and hide them in the den at the back of the garden before they saw her. The side gate leading to the garden was bound to be unlocked, and if she was careful, she could sneak to the den, hide the goods, and be back out the gate before either of them saw her.

Feeling pleased with herself, she pressed her head against the head rest and looked out of the window, determined to remember the route she’d come by so she wouldn’t feel so lost next time. Before she realised, she saw St Margaret’s approaching on the left, and beyond it the entrance to her road. Only the car didn’t slow to a stop, as she expected.

‘Um, excuse me, sir,’ she called out timidly, not wishing to upset him, ‘but you just drove past my road.’

‘Oh, did I?’ he called out apologetically, staring back at her from the rear-view mirror. ‘My mistake. There’s a roundabout a little way along from here; I’ll turn around there.’

But the roundabout came and went, and still there was no return to her road. Her pulse quickened. Tears began to pool in her eyes, and she could feel his eyes watching her. ‘Please, I just want to go home,’ she whimpered, fear clawing at her throat.

‘We’ll be there soon,’ his voice soothed, even though she didn’t believe a word of it.

In a final act of desperation, she subtly moved her hand to the door handle, all the time checking that he was no longer watching her in the mirror. Her fingers brushed against the cool metal, coiling around the handle, but as she tugged on it, it didn’t budge.

She was trapped.

Chapter Two Now

Winchester, Hampshire

I can’t explain the nerves I’m feeling as I wait on the kerbside. There is a small wall adjacent to my knees, and I’m tempted to perch on it to rest my legs, but it is suffering the effects of erosion, and I’m not sure it would adequately support my weight. The ball of tension in the pit of my stomach is large enough without the added embarrassment of recreating Humpty Dumpty’s most memorable moment.

The high wall surrounding HMP Winchester is casting a huge shadow over the area I’m waiting in, and I’m glad I opted to wear a sweater and a thick coat today, even though the weatherman had said it would be unusually mild for February. It’s been close to eight months since I last saw Freddie Mitchell, as he was led away from the dock at Reading Crown Court, sentenced to ten months at her Majesty’s pleasure for deliberately causing arson and criminal