The Crows

2:2 [A Town With Dark Secrets]

Pagham-on-Sea's SupaPrice was the local branch of the budget supermarket chain located on the high street, spread over the ground floor of a few shops knocked through into one. It specialised in budget household items, basic groceries, a reasonable range of frozen food, and a cheap toy aisle.

"I don't know why anyone would come and live here," Carrie was informed by the willowy sixteen-year-old hanging up her jacket in the upstairs break room. "It's a shithole."

Carrie smiled. "Rachel, is it?"

The girl looked down at her name badge. "Yeah."

"I'm Caroline." Carrie gave her an appraising glance. "You can call me Carrie, though."

Rachel nodded. "You must live in the new estate, right?"

"Why d'you say that?"

"Everyone new lives out there."

Carrie let Rachel think what she wanted, tucking her necklace into her blouse.

"We aren't supposed to wear necklaces," Rachel said, eyeing Carrie's and tucking in her own half of a Best Friends Forever heart. "But I won't tell if you won't."

Carrie grinned. "Deal. I feel naked without mine."

Rachel's smile was warmer. "Me too! Pauline's the worst about stuff like that, but Mercy's cool. She won't mind."

"What don't you like about this town? It's not so bad, the bits I've seen."

The high street wasn't awful. Aside from the pawn shops and shabby second-hand places on the dodgier end, it had a healthy mix of popular chains and independently-owned places. From what Carrie had seen there were plenty of shops and cafés, some tourist-kitschy but others, like the Sandbox, friendly and innovative. Carrie was sure Rachel bore a vague resemblance to one of its owners, with her long, sad face and light freckles peppered across her nose.

Rachel shot her a worn look but didn't answer. "I want to do a gap year, travel an' that. Can't wait."

"Still, you must know some interesting stuff about this place," Carrie probed. "Like... I don't know, there must be some urban legends and ghost stories, right?"

"About what?" Rachel straightened her tunic, avoiding Carrie's eye.

"Oh, I don't know." Carrie cast about for some suggestions to mask her main interest. "The local church, the smugglers... the big old house on Redditch Lane..."

Her informant shrugged, tossing her phone into her locker after sending one last message. "Not really." She shot Carrie another hard-to-read glance, as if she were trying to assess her. Finally, she asked, "Have you ever heard people say, 'Don't put in the ground what you don't want to grow'?"

Carrie thought back to the few local tradesmen chatting to her with their stoic reluctance, but couldn't recall anything like that odd little phrase. Rachel was staring at her like it was some kind of test.

"Can't say I have, honestly."

Rachel blinked at her, relaxing, conker-brown eyes still dulled by the early hour. "Doesn't matter. It's just an old saying. Good luck today, anyway. See you later." She slid by Carrie and jogged down the stairs to the shop floor.

Carrie stared after her.

What was that all about?

Fortunately for her over-worked curiosity, there was no time to dwell any further on this point. The manager re-appeared, polishing his bald spot with his shirt cuff in a harassed manner, to start her induction. If there really was a town-wide conspiracy not to hire The Crows' owner, Carrie thought, Mr Graham ("Call me Alf") had clearly lost that memo in the chaos of his in-tray.