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touring the holiday camps. Before that, he was with the Jericho fair, doing sideshow acts when he was a kid.’

‘You’ve been doing some research!’ said Ellie, raising an eyebrow. Nettie wasn’t usually the type to look up more than her horoscope or her Instagram following.

‘It’s just so freaky,’ said Nettie, with a visible shudder. ‘What if there is a Bluecoat psycho killer, out to get every one of us..?’

‘It’s not us,’ said Ellie. ‘Martin was here seven years ago, when that other one — Julie — was here. It’s got to be something to do with them, not us.’

‘Yeah… and who else was here seven years ago..?’ Nettie’s eyebrows and palms raised in tandem. ‘Yeah — Backflip Barney.’

‘So… are you going to tell that policeman?’ Ellie could see the sense in it, but she felt sorry for Barney. There was something rather vulnerable about him; the way he waved and smiled but never joined them unless very specifically invited (by her, every time, because she felt bad for him). A guy that fit and nice-looking, you’d think he’d be confident in himself, but he really wasn’t, except for the half hour when he was performing for the kids or for the families, in the evening.

He certainly was a loner and a bit odd. She could see why Nettie was suspicious.

‘I think we should,’ Nettie went on. ‘As soon as the morning ramble is over.’

In the children’s theatre they met a fresh crowd of young holidaymakers, ready for fun and games, magic tricks and bingo. Buntin’s was surprisingly old-fashioned in what it offered the children, but that was part of its appeal for many parents, sick of seeing their kids glued to screens. There were even old cartoons screened in the theatre, while she and Nettie gave out popcorn and fizzy drinks.

This morning, though, it was all about settling the kids into two teams — the Snappers (her team) and the Crackers (Nettie’s team). It was noisy and silly, with run-around games in the auditorium, until everyone had been settled into their team and given the correct badge — the Snappers with a fierce pair of alligator jaws on theirs, and the Crackers with a whip-cracking alligator tail on theirs.

Then, checking that every child was wearing their microchipped bracelet (also stamped with their team insignia) and could be tracked if they were to get lost, Ellie and Nettie led them all off down to the beach for their first Alligator Ramble.

This was one of Ellie’s favourite parts of the week. The chance to sit and gossip with Nettie while the kids went scrambling around the beach in search of lucky stones for their team. Happily there were enough stones with holes right through them to keep the kids engrossed and excited for quite some time.

She and her chalet-mate settled onto the pebbles and kept watch while their charges foraged happily, running up from time to time to show off their lucky stones and drop them in either the Snappers or Crackers bucket.

‘No — no Charlie!’ yelled Nettie. ‘Don’t go that way. You have to stay this side of the Buntin’s flag!’

Charlie cannoned back along the beach towards them and continued his quest without heading any further along the shoreline. It was one of the main tasks she and Nettie had — to prevent them from drowning, obviously, but also to keep them away from the eroding cliff fall area further along the beach, with its overgrown concrete wartime bunkers and unstable upper paths. There were three bunkers along this stretch of coast and every time she saw them, Ellie suspected they’d slid into the sand just a bit more. Although the beach was mostly stony, there were also many patches of sand, much of it eroded from the short cliffs and swept down in drifts towards the sea. But the Buntin’s area was clearly marked with flags and quite safe.

‘So… what do you think?’ Nettie asked her, in a low voice. ‘Are we going to see that good-looking copper?’

‘Oh… is that it? You’ve got a thing for uniforms?’ Ellie teased.

‘Well, yeah — apart from bloody Buntin’s Bluecoat uniforms, obviously,’ said Nettie. ‘But also… he did say, anything at all. Even if it doesn’t turn out to mean anything.’

Ellie sighed. She hated this. Hated to be judging another person just because they didn’t fit the norm… but the truth was, if Nettie had suspicions, she probably should report them. After all, two people were dead. It didn’t get more serious than that. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, finally. ‘If you think you should… do it.’

‘Not just me,’ said Nettie. ‘You’re coming, too.’

Ellie didn’t argue. She didn’t agree, either. They tried to change the subject but in the gaps between the kids crunching across the pebbles towards them, puffing, pink-faced and excited, to deposit their lucky stones, the talk inevitably circled back to Martin and this murdered ex-Blue.

‘Better give ‘em another five,’ said Nettie, eventually, checking her watch. ‘And get ‘em back for the magic show.’

‘HEY! SNAPPERS!’ yelled Ellie, jumping to her feet. ‘Come ON — we’ve got five minutes left to BEAT THE CRACKERS!’

There were squeals of excited determination as the children scooped pebbles up in a frenzy, seeking their hole-y grail.

‘C’MON, CRACKERS!’ bawled Nettie, getting to her feet and waving her arms in the air.

‘Aunty Ellie…’ Ellie looked down to see a small, fair-haired girl at her hip, dimpled face turned up with a concerned expression.

‘What is it, sweetheart?’ asked Ellie, as the girl’s warm, sandy fingers snaked into hers.

‘The man’s making the cliff fall down,’ said the girl — Chloe, according to her SNAPPERS name tag.

‘What do you mean, Chloe?’ asked Ellie, kneeling down to get eye to eye. The girl turned and pointed south along the beach, to a point beyond one of the sagging concrete bunkers, where what looked like red smoke was drifting through the air. As Ellie got up, shielding her eyes and squinting into the distance, there was a sudden rumble and a yellow

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