Oh Christ!

She had to get out of here. She had to get away. Because if she didn’t, Shauna would be mad. And then God knew what she would do. Now Claire knew what Shauna was capable of. For the moment she was alive and if she wanted to stay that way then there was nothing for it but to do as Shauna said and go.

Claire picked up her blouse and pulled it on with shaking hands. Her wrist throbbed, hot with pain. Her neck ached. She was black and blue with bruises and between her legs – oh God – she was hideously sore, and wet. She felt in the pocket of her skirt for the money that Shauna had put there last night. It was still there. She was surprised at that; she wouldn’t have put it past those godless bastards the Cleavers to have taken even that from her, along with her dignity and her virginity. They had taken everything else.

She managed a few tottering steps to the grave in front of the altar.

Blue. Oh my poor sweet Blue.

Her eyes lingered on the inscription there.

Something Old

Something New

Something Borrowed

Something Blue

Shauna’s idea of a joke, putting Blue in there? Claire didn’t know. She turned away, crying, beaten, bloody and sore, and staggered out of the church and away.

16

16

Josh knew where all the travelling folk were at any given time; all the Romanies did. There were the horse fairs, run as regular as clockwork, and then there were the funfairs, set up all over the country on bank holidays, with legal boxing booths being a big feature of the entertainment.

Unable to sleep, tormented by the thought of all that he had lost, he dragged his aching body from the bed and left Shauna Everett in the land of nod. He crept down the stairs and unbolted the door and let himself out into the warm night. Crossing to the car, he took off the handbrake and rolled her down and out to the gate, then started the engine and switched on the lights and turned the car south.

He drove until he saw the signs. Pole and Co Fun Fairs, they shouted, showing great grinning clown faces painted in brilliant reds and yellows. Fun’s the game and Pole’s the name! He turned the car down a long gravel driveway. Up ahead against a charcoal-grey sky he could see the outline of a big wheel, the massive cone of the helter-skelter. The big top was up, flags luffing in a sultry breeze.