Lula Does the Hula Read Online Free

on the veranda of the Setting Sun, but . . .
    ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘You’re more conspicuous out here.’
    ‘Even with the hat?’ His usual fedora was pulled low over his silver hair, bright ice-grey eyes sparkling beneath.
    ‘Especially with the hat,’ I said, going into another stretch and gesturing to Alex. ‘This is my friend –’
    ‘Alex Thompson,’ said Mr K, holding out his hand and gripping Alex’s in a firm handshake. ‘I like your writing.’
    ‘Oh!’ said Alex, going all pink and stuttery. ‘Th-thanks, Mr Kadinski.’
    ‘We’re going for a run,’ I said, pulling my arms behind my back. ‘Gotta hurry, actually.’
    Mr Kadinski nodded. ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Frey’s Dam is cordoned off, so I’m sure you won’t be heading that way.’
    I grinned back at him and he winked. ‘Oh, boy,’ he said. ‘Another adventure. Make sure you check your postbox when you get back.’
    ‘Wowzers,’ I said, looking over at the rusty box on our front gate. ‘Postie’s up early.’
    ‘I’m not sure it was him,’ replied Mr K. ‘Five a.m. is not our postman’s style.’
    ‘Nooo,’ agreed Alex, raising an eyebrow at me. ‘So who’s been dropping letters off at dawn?’
    I stood up, hands on hips. ‘Oh, Alex,’ I sighed, shooting a look at my watch. ‘Go and get it. Between you and Mr K –’
    ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t be able to wait,’ said Mr K, a triumphant smile chasing round his lips.
    ‘
Me?
Oh, please.’ I turned and looked at our postbox. There was something protruding from the mouth of it, and it flapped insistently in the cool morning breeze.
    I laughed at Mr Kadinski. ‘You are unbelievable. You saw some person dropping off something at an unlikely hour and you just can’t leave it alone. Who was it? What did they look like?’
    ‘Even the secret-service training didn’t help me get a good look at him,’ he said with a twinkly smile, tipping the fedora right back on his head. ‘The mornings are still too misty.’
    ‘Ouch,’ I said, watching my friend reach into the postbox, pricking her hands on the thorns of the rambling roses that had totally taken over. ‘You okay, Alex?’
    ‘Oh, boy!’ she muttered, standing there holding a piece of paper, oblivious to the scratches. ‘Oh, Tatty. This is not good.’
    The letter wasn’t in an envelope. Just half a piece of ruled A4 paper, with holes punched in the side, ready for a lever-arch file. Alex scrambled back up the bank and shoved it a centimetre from my nose. At the bottom, near the tear, someone had scribbled:
The Birds Will Die
    A cold chill ran down my back and raised hair all over my body. I looked over at Mr Kadinski waiting.
    ‘How did you know?’ I asked. ‘How do you always know when something terrible is going to happen?’



Chapter Five
Monday 6 a.m., outside my house examining an anonymous letter
    ‘Though, strangely . . .’ I said, scrutinising the death note, ‘strangely this doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t feel like a threat.’
    ‘Oh!’ yelped Alex. ‘Oh, so
now
we’re getting all second sightish, are we? Ha!’ She turned to Mr K. ‘Let’s bag it and take it straight down to the police station.’
    ‘Hmm,’ he said, putting on a suede glove and taking the note. ‘You’re right to be cautious, Alex. Leave it with me.’
    With that he wandered a little down the road and disappeared into a thick hedge. Alex was speechless. I did one last pull on my quads and pointed up the hill. ‘Trust him. Let’s get going.’
    Alex stayed speechless all the way to the top of Hill Street, where it peters out into a dirt track that meanders into the woods and then stops. She didn’t speak when we headed into the trees, and didn’t utter a word even as we ran through Coven’s Quarter, a clearing where ancient stone seats sit quietly in dappled sunlight. Two weeks ago this spot nearly got bulldozed, but it was safe now, and I felt a lifting of my heart as we thudded through the dry leaves and pine