Chapter Forty-Five
1989
Fisher residence
Saturday 24th June – 25 days before
‘Are you off out again, Bella? You’re never in lately. What about your spelling homework? The test is on Monday. Have you
finished learning your words?’
‘I already know them, they’re easy ones. I can spell them
backwards.’
‘You don’t get marks for that I’m afraid, my little one,’ Eric
called from his armchair in the lounge.
‘Oh, you’re funny, Dad,’ Bella said in the stroppy teenage
voice she’d adopted despite being only ten. ‘Test me later, I’ll
prove it.’
‘I’m going out in a bit, and you’ll be tucked up asleep by the
time I get back. But tomorrow you can prove to me how clever
you are.’
‘After Sunday school then – it’s a deal,’ Bella shouted.
Moments later the front door slammed.
‘Oh, so I’m going to be left alone then! I do enjoy my week-
ends.’ Muriel’s brow creased and she put both her hands on her
hips. ‘I’ll take myself off to Tina’s then. It would be nice to have some company.’
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‘Don’t sound so hard done by, love.’
‘I’m fine. I’m sure we can come up with an enlightening topic
– maybe what can be done with the abandoned barn on the
edge of the play park. Some of the kids have broken the door
and are using it as some kind of den; it’s not safe. I don’t think it should wait until the next Mapledon Meeting, so I’ll discuss
with Tina how we should approach the councillors. They really
need to do something about it right now.’
‘You’re acting like you’re the bleedin’ high priestess of a
witches’ coven, you are, Muriel!’
‘Are you jealous, dear – would you like to be the high priest?
It can be arranged,’ Muriel said with a tight smile. ‘But I’d still be the one to make decisions, so don’t let’s get ahead of
ourselves.’
Eric shook his head, tutting. ‘I’m just saying, you don’t have
to be the one to make every decision, that’s all.’
‘I’m not, Eric. And I’m sorry, but you don’t have the first
clue what we even discuss at the meetings, and well, that’s the
way us ladies want to keep it. You men have the pub, your golf,
your gambling,’ Muriel said, shooting him a knowing look.
‘Don’t think you’ve got that past me, dear.’
Eric shuffled in his chair, his eyes now averted from Muriel’s.
‘Nothing bloody gets past you,’ he mumbled.
‘Language, Eric,’ she scolded. ‘Leave us to our business and
I’ll leave you to yours. And don’t worry, we would trust you
and the other men to help us if it were required.’
‘Oh, well, don’t do us any favours. We might not want to
help just when it suits you.’
‘I’m sure you would do what needed to be done for the good
of the community, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yeah, yeah. We always do, don’t we? You might think you
run the village, Muriel – you and your cronies – but it’s us men
that you all count on. Couldn’t do without us, could you?’
Muriel kissed the top of Eric’s head.
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‘No, love. I couldn’t,’ she said.
‘Oh, meant to say – a letter came for you. Was official-looking.
I put it on the sideboard.’
Muriel went to the dining room and looked at the white
envelope propped up against the silver bowl. She took it and,
without opening it, slid it into the bottom drawer between her
cardboard box of birthday cards and her address book. She’d
deal with it later, when Eric had gone to the pub.
‘Anything important?’ Eric called from the lounge.
‘No.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Just some information I requested
a while ago. Ironically something related to our Mapledon
Meeting agenda.’
Eric stood as Muriel walked back into the room, and strode
forwards, taking both her hands in his. ‘I know I joke about the
meetings, about the women only getting together for wine and
gossip, but I am aware that’s not all you do. I know you do a
lot for this village and it’s a better place for it. I can always rest assured you ladies are keeping things running smoothly, making
sure the village kids have a good, safe place to grow up in.
Making sure our Bella is safe and secure. I’m only teasing you,
you know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, love. Of course. And, let’s face it, getting intoxicated and gossiping without an agenda is something we leave to our men,’
she said, smiling.
‘Touché.’ He kissed her. ‘And on that note, I’m off to the
pub.’
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Chapter Forty-Six
2019
Anna
Monday 15th July
So far, Anna had kept her conversation to topics Lizzie seemed
happy to talk about – she hadn’t asked many questions. From
what she’d spoken of, Lizzie appeared to be in Mapledon purely
to see if her dad had returned, and to find out what happened
thirty years ago. Much the same reasons Anna had stayed beyond
the weekend. But Anna only had Lizzie’s word she hadn’t been in
contact with Billy since she’d been taken into care. Only her explanation for why she’d turned up in the village asking questions.
Anna couldn’t extinguish the feeling of unease she’d had
when Lizzie had driven her and her mum straight to their front
door that morning. And until she had evidence to the contrary,
she wouldn’t rule out the possibility Lizzie was involved in the
macabre mutation of the Knock, Knock ‘game’ that had begun
on Friday. Lizzie and her dad could be doing it.
‘When did you first arrive in Mapledon again?’ Anna asked,
then took a bite of her baguette.
‘Saturday. I hadn’t opened the solicitor’s letter for a few days, then I ummed and ahhed about coming. But then I got a call
that made my mind up for me.’
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‘Oh? How come?’
‘It was someone saying they knew his plans.’
Anna’s heart dropped. ‘Who?’
‘They didn’t say. It was a woman’s voice, and it came to the
landline, not my mobile.’
‘Did they say how they knew?’ Anna’s throat tightened. She
put her baguette down, unable to take another mouthful just
yet.
‘Nope. But they knew I was a journo because they said I’d
be interested in the story.’
‘You’re a journalist? You didn’t mention that.’ Anna’s discom-
fort about being continually on the back foot wasn’t doing her
stress levels any good.
‘Freelance, yes. But I’m not here after some sensationalist
story, Anna. I’m just here for the truth.’
‘The truth? I don’t understand.’
went missing, Anna. But I am sure there was more to it than you or I know.’
‘I don’t think there was. The evidence pointed to your dad,
and I am sorry for that – it can’t be easy for you knowing
what he did – but there was no other explanation for what
happened.’
‘Because the police, and the people of Mapledon, stopped
looking, Anna. They assumed they had their guy, and as you
say the evidence pointed to it being him, so they wrapped it up,
no further questions asked.’ Lizzie looked Anna straight in the
eye. ‘I’m here to start looking again.’
‘But why now? Why not before, when he was in prison?’
‘Because I was one of those people who’d spent all those years
believing he’d done it. Assuming he’d taken Jonie and then
murdered her, dumping her body. Because that’s the story I’d
been fed.’
‘And now you don’t? Just like that? What changed your
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mind?’ Anna’s questions tumbled over themselves, her mind racing.
‘During my childhood, moving from one foster home to
another, I was told various things about why I’d been removed
from my father’s care. Initially, it was the straightforward “after your mum died, he was unable to cope and he neglected you” line
I was given. As I got older, though, that story developed; things were added on. I was told other, less straightforward things – stuff I don’t want to get into right now. So, over the years I built a
picture of what my time with Billy must’ve been like, what kind
of person he was . . . and what a monster he must be to have killed a child. When I was driving here all I could think about was how
I was going to “put William Cawley to rest”.’ Lizzie made air quotes with her fingers. ‘And up until today, that remained my plan. But I felt something . . . odd . . . today. I’d say it was a memory, but it wasn’t tangible – it was a feeling, something deep down, buried, rather than an actual memory. A sense, a knowing, that all was
not as it seemed. Whatever happened here, we don’t know the full
story.’ Lizzie bit into her lunch. It appeared she’d said all she was going to say for the moment. It was as if she’d delivered her speech and now wanted Anna to chew it over.
They both continued eating in silence, Anna’s brain working
overtime. Lizzie could well be right – they didn’t know all that
went on back then. But she still believed that Billy Cawley was
responsible for abducting Jonie Hayes. After all, she’d witnessed it – the police had taken her statement and that had been a key
piece of evidence. Perhaps Lizzie didn’t know that. After swal-
lowing the last piece of baguette and washing it down with the
rest of the tea, Anna leant forwards on the table, resting her
chest on her folded arms.
‘You do know I saw it, don’t you?’ she ventured.
‘Saw what, exactly?’
‘Jonie Hayes getting into Billy’s truck. Him driving out of the
village.’
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Lizzie’s eyes squinted. ‘So, you were the one.’ Lizzie shifted, moving her body back, away from Anna.
Anna frowned. ‘The one?’
‘You were child B. The major witness. The only witness,’ Lizzie said, her voice cold, monotone. A shiver ran the length of Anna’s spine, despite the summer sun beating down on her.
‘Well, yes. I assumed you knew.’
‘No. You weren’t identified; how would I know?’ Lizzie’s words
sounded sharp, snappy.
The whole tone, the atmosphere of their lunch, had altered,
and Anna now felt even more uncomfortable. She wanted to get
the attention off herself.
‘I suppose you wouldn’t. Although you are a journalist, and you do seem to have found out where my mother lived easily
enough, so no doubt your contacts could’ve found out that
information?’
Lizzie’s frown grew deeper, but her eye contact didn’t waver.
‘Fair play.’
She didn’t expand. With an attempt to hold Lizzie’s intensity
of eye contact, Anna asked the burning question.
‘So, who told you the address?’
‘No one,’ Lizzie said without hesitation.
Anna’s pulse picked up. ‘Then how . . .’
‘I’ve been there before.’
‘You said you didn’t remember anything about Mapledon,
only the school when you saw it. Why on earth would you have
remembered where my house was? I was never friends with you.’
Maybe Muriel was right then. It had been Lizzie who’d hammered
the doll’s head to the door.
‘No. That’s right. I didn’t. But seeing your mother sparked
something and I just knew where to go.’
‘Do you remember when and why you went to my house?’
‘Your mum, and someone else I think, took me there. But
no, I don’t remember exactly when. I certainly don’t know why.’
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‘Who was the other person?’
‘Look, Anna. I don’t really remember. I think the best person
to ask is Muriel, don’t you?’
Yes. And she was going to ask more besides. What had her
mother been up to? And why hadn’t she ever told Anna about
Lizzie being at their house?
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Chapter Forty-Seven
2019
Lizzie
Two missed calls showed on Lizzie’s mobile. Both had been
while she’d been lunching with Anna Fisher – whose surname
she’d found out was now Denver. One was from Dom, the other,
Rob. Both had left voicemails. She plugged her mobile in to
charge; she’d listen to them later. For now, she wanted to go
online and do some more background reading of the Cawley
case. The more she spoke to Mapledon’s inhabitants, the more
she became aware there were secrets to uncover here. And she
wanted to be the one to do it. Lizzie opened her laptop, and
with the view of the fields calming her, began to compile some
new files, labelling them:
MURIEL FISHER
ANNABELLA FISHER – ‘Child B’ – aka ANNA DENVER
NELL ANDREWS
ROBERT ANDREWS
REVEREND FARNLEY
TINA HAYES
JONIE HAYES
WILLIAM CAWLEY
She inputted all she knew so far about each person.
Anna was an interesting one. Lizzie got the distinct impression
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Anna didn’t trust her, and currently that feeling was mutual.
She’d looked surprised when Lizzie had mentioned she’d been
at Muriel’s house before – it appeared genuine. But she’d
observed Anna’s change in demeanour: suddenly tense, imme-
diately on the defence. Protecting her mother? Or herself? Lizzie had been equally shocked to learn that Anna was Child B. That’s
the piece of information she would concentrate on for now.
<
br /> Lizzie needed to draw out more about what Anna remembered
of that day. Then she would try and elicit information from
Rob, and move on to the others. Cross-reference it all. She’d
also need to find out who the other key people were and find
out about spouses and any other children they had, too, of
course. This was going to be a huge task, but one Lizzie felt
would be worth it in the end.
If she got the answers she was looking for.
But what if she was wrong? If she did all this digging around
and only reached the same conclusion the police, and the
villagers of Mapledon, had back then? She’d not only have wasted
hours of her life on that man – again – she’d also be left with
no doubt she shared the genes of a child killer. But then, she’d
come here assuming that was the case, anyway. So, would it
damage her further if that were right? If she didn’t look into it, and left now, she’d be forever wondering. And that was the
opposite outcome to the one she’d come here for. No. One way
or another, she was leaving Mapledon with the truth.
Lizzie left her room and rang the bell at reception. A few
moments later Gwen appeared from the side door, which Lizzie
assumed led to her private side of the B&B.
‘Gwen, hi.’
‘Hello, my lovely, is all okay?’
‘Yes, thank you. In fact, I’d like to extend my stay, please. If
possible.’
Gwen popped behind the desk and opened a ledger. ‘How
long for?’
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‘I’m not sure, exactly. I don’t suppose we could do it as an indefinite stay . . .?
‘Oh, erm . . . It is going to get a bit busier come beginning
of August – tends to be my busiest time. But looking here, your
room isn’t booked again until the end of July. After that there
will be another room available if you’re happy to move?’
‘Lovely, thank you.’ Lizzie had yet to see any other guests and
wondered why July was quiet. Especially given the weather. It
was very rural, though, not to everyone’s cup of tea. How did Gwen make the place pay? Maybe she had another income.
‘Grand. I’ll pop it all on the computer and we’ll do it per
week, then. It’ll be cheaper for you to book per week than per
night,’ she said, smiling.
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Lizzie said, then added, ‘Oh, and
Gwen?’
‘Yes, Lizzie.’
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