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I Dare You (ARC)

Page 19

by Sam Carrington


  necksies, don’t you?’ Jonie sounded so assured, it annoyed Bella.

  She found herself wishing, praying, for her to trip. Fail for once.

  But as they chanted: ‘England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, inside,

  outside, inside, on!’ at ankles, then kneesies, thighsies, waisties, then armpits . . . each stage getting more boring than the next

  for Bella and Amber, they realised Jonie wouldn’t fail. Of course she’d reach, and complete, necksies.

  Jonie had her back to Bella as she began the song, her jumps

  high, her legs clearing the elastic – but as she was about to

  straddle the elastic, on the word outside – Bella sneakily pushed the elastic further out. Jonie’s right leg missed, her foot landing heavily on the inside of the elastic. She pivoted quickly, her

  angry stare fixing on Bella’s face.

  ‘What did you do that for, you bitch?’ Jonie’s face was a deep

  red.

  Bella’s mouth dropped open. Jonie had never sworn like that

  before, and especially not at Bella.

  ‘Well? You that pathetic you have to cheat?’ Jonie stormed towards Bella, her pinched features almost touching Bella’s face, her finger jabbing into Bella’s chest.

  ‘It was an accident,’ Bella lied. ‘Sorry. Go again if you want.’

  ‘I will! And I’m facing you this time. You can’t be trusted.’

  ‘It’s only a game, Jonie,’ Amber interjected, trying to defuse

  the situation.

  ‘Only losers say that,’ Jonie retorted. And then, her eyes

  trained on Bella’s said: ‘And only losers cheat.’

  ‘I didn’t even want to play. I just wanted my lunch.’ Bella

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  could hear the tears in her voice, and knew Jonie would also pick up on the fact she was about to cry.

  ‘You’re so boring, Bella.’ Then she laughed. ‘Boring Bella,

  Boring Bella,’ she sang. ‘Maybe we should make those the new

  words, instead of England, Ireland.’ Her wide grin was filled

  with a viciousness that made her face ugly. Bella felt her own

  face grow hot. Inside her head she was screaming: ‘ You’re ugly, Jonie. Jumped-up Jonie, Jumped-up Jonie. ’ She really thought she was something special and could get away with treating people

  badly. But, Jonie was probably right – she was boring. And she was weak. She’d never stand up to Jonie Hayes. Which made

  Bella hate herself almost as much as she hated Jonie.

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  Chapter Fifty-Five

  2019

  Anna

  Tuesday 16th July

  ‘Why don’t you go next door, have a morning coffee with Sandie,

  Mum? It would do you good.’

  ‘I’m not feeling very sociable.’

  ‘Which is why it’s a good idea. Force yourself, otherwise

  you’re going to end up a recluse.’ She silently added: like Billy Cawley was . Muriel shook her head.

  ‘Seriously, please. You’re really worrying me now.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just because I don’t want to go around to my

  neighbour’s does not mean I’m becoming a recluse, Anna.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m only trying to help. This house feels like it’s suffocating us both, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, you go next door then,’ she said.

  Anna was as good as smashing her head against the wall.

  ‘Maybe I will,’ she replied, her voice shrill. She was taken back to her teenage, childish outbursts when she and Muriel would

  do battle on a regular basis, particularly when Anna was

  attempting to go outside of Mapledon on nights out. It had

  been tedious as a teenager to grow up in a tiny Dartmoor village, miles from any excitement. Of course, they’d all wanted – been

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  desperate – to escape and flock to the brighter lights of the nearest town. Although, in reality, they weren’t that bright. There were more pubs in Bovey Tracey, but that was about it. The

  closest club was twenty miles away and until they were a bit

  older – able to successfully get in with fake ID – there was no

  point in arranging transport to get there; it was too much hassle just to be turned away and made to feel stupid. Anyway, anything

  had been better than The Plough in Mapledon, the pub where

  all their parents frequently drank, so at least Bovey had given

  them something.

  Muriel shot Anna a disgusted look.

  ‘What?’ Anna shouted, rolling her eyes at her mother.

  ‘You’re beginning to irritate me.’

  Anna bit her lip, suppressing the urge to fire back ‘not as

  much as you’re irritating me’, but knew it would get her nowhere.

  She got up and walked away without saying anything further.

  She would go into Sandie’s – it might actually give her a good

  opportunity to find out what Muriel’s behaviour had been like

  over the past weeks and months. She’d quiz her about whether

  she’d seen anything strange in the neighbourhood too.

  Anna unlocked the front door. Stepping outside she glanced

  back, her heart sinking as she noticed what was pinned to it.

  Another limb.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ she said, reaching forwards and ripping it away

  from the wood. The single nail came away, the plastic leg

  attached. Anna walked to the top of the path, eyes searching up

  and down the road. Of course, no one was there. Must’ve been

  left in the early hours of the morning; they hadn’t even heard

  it. Anna pulled the nail out and examined the leg. Inside the

  hollow, the same as before, was a piece of paper. She couldn’t

  reach it with her finger, so she used the nail to hook it out. For the moment, she pocketed the leg and paper, not wishing to

  read its contents outside, and then carried on up the path. She’d check it after she’d spoken with Sandie.

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  Sandie’s house was slightly smaller than Muriel’s as it was mid-terraced. The neighbour to her other side was an elderly

  man who’d moved into the property after Anna had left

  Mapledon. Sandie, however, had been Muriel’s neighbour since

  she moved in with Eric just after they’d married. Anna remem-

  bered Sandie well – she’d always been popping in and out while

  Anna had lived there – coming in for a cup of tea and a chat

  with Muriel, leaving several hours later with her mug still in her hand. Nobody knocked on doors back then, they merely called

  ‘cooee’ as they let themselves straight in. Anna almost did the

  same now as she stepped up to Sandie’s front door. She gave a

  small laugh. Funny the things you remembered, and strange how

  years later old habits were still strong. Anna rang the bell, and as she waited, studied the door for nail holes. It was intact. Clearly, Sandie hadn’t been the recipient of any doll parts.

  ‘Yes?’ Sandie’s face, small and heart-shaped, peeked around

  the door.

  ‘Hi, Sandie. It’s Anna, it’s been a while.’ Anna smiled but

  realised there was no recognition in the woman’s eyes. ‘Muriel’s

  daughter,’ she added.

  ‘Oh, my goodness. Little Bella!’ Sandie opened the door fully

  and burst from behind it, her ar
ms open wide. She grasped

  Anna in a tight hug, then, still holding on to her, extended her

  arms again. Sandie looked her up and down, appraising her. ‘I’d

  seen you coming and going the last few days – I did wonder

  who you were. I was moments from nipping in to have a nose.’

  She gave a wink. ‘Gosh, I can’t believe it’s you. How long has

  it been?’

  ‘Oh, well – a fair few years,’ Anna said. ‘Twenty or so?’

  ‘You’ll come in for a coffee, yes?’ Sandie’s gaze searched the

  path and then she turned her head towards Muriel’s house. ‘No

  mum?’

  ‘Er . . . no. She’s in a bit of a funny mood. One of the reasons

  I’d rather speak to you alone, actually.’

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  ‘Ah. I see.’ Sandie nodded in a way that conveyed an understanding.

  Unlike Muriel’s house, which internally had largely remained

  the same as when it was newly built in the Sixties, Sandie’s had

  been transformed since the last time Anna had stepped inside.

  The lounge and dining room were now integrated, and it ran

  seamlessly into the L-shaped kitchen – modern decoration and

  updated kitchen units made the house feel totally different.

  ‘Wow, Sandie – it looks really great in here.’

  ‘Well, I have Ian. He does so much DIY still – he loves tink-

  ering about in the house. Although I don’t let him have a say

  in the colour scheme; he’s completely uncoordinated when it

  comes to matching colours.’ She gave a laugh, and went to the

  kettle, grabbing two china mugs from the cupboard above. ‘Tea

  or coffee, love?’

  ‘Coffee, please. Although I consume too much caffeine really.

  I should cut down.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we all?’ Sandie smiled and dropped a heaped

  teaspoon of coffee into the mug. ‘Muriel tells me you’re teaching still. How is that going?’

  ‘Yeah, good thanks. It has its challenges, but it suits me and

  means I get the school holidays to spend with Carrie. Well, I

  usually do, anyway.’

  ‘Isn’t she with you?’

  ‘No. It was an . . . unexpected visit, let’s say. And I didn’t want Carrie being dragged into Mum’s drama.’ Anna felt her cheeks

  flush, guilt at bad-mouthing her mother surfacing.

  ‘Ah.’ Sandie pursed her lips as she handed a mug to Anna.

  ‘Where do you want to sit? Comfortable sofa or dining area?’

  ‘I’m easy,’ Anna said.

  ‘I have the feeling this conversation may require a comfy sofa.’

  She smiled again, placing a hand on Anna’s shoulder as she

  moved back into the lounge. Although Anna hadn’t intended

  to dive right in and talk about her mother behind her back, the

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  warm reception from Sandie – coupled with a familiar, friendly face – triggered an outpouring. After what seemed to be an hour

  of monologue from Anna, Sandie finally sighed and began her

  appraisal of the situation Anna had detailed.

  ‘Firstly,’ Sandie said, ‘I don’t think you need worry about

  dementia, or Alzheimer’s. Apart from some odd lapses of

  memory, I think Muriel is fine – or fine for our age, should I

  say.’ She smiled warmly. ‘Secondly, no – neither I, nor anyone

  else I’ve heard about, have received any such macabre items

  hammered to our doors. Tina hadn’t mentioned she’d had this

  happen to her when I saw her last. I can’t say I’ve seen anyone

  hanging about either. Which is odd, as I do like to know what’s

  going on in the street and often sit in the chair by the front

  window to watch the world go by. My guess is they have been

  performing this “game” for want of a better word, very late, or

  in the early hours when no one is about. The streetlights going

  off at one in the morning doesn’t help. Whoever is doing it,

  kids or adults, will be able to keep in the shadows and go virtu-

  ally undetected. Now, as for your third point about contacting

  the police due to your suspicion it’s Billy Cawley, I’d advise

  caution there, love. You remember what this village is like, don’t you?’

  ‘The villagers all huddle together and act as one when there’s

  a problem.’

  ‘Quite. Sometimes I feel it’s a little like a vigilante group. If they get wind you think Billy’s back . . . well, they’ll form a

  lynch mob or something. You need to be sure it’s him.’

  And Anna wasn’t. As much as everything pointed to it being him, she couldn’t rule Lizzie out. Before she could say anything

  more, Sandie echoed her thoughts.

  ‘It may seem obvious to you that it must be Billy, given the

  timing, but you can’t be sure it really isn’t teenagers. It’s not the same world now – teenagers play far more risky games than

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  Ginger wouldn’t cut it nowadays. They’re all so obsessed with the internet and games and the like – kids now would need to

  up the stakes. All they’d have to do was search the internet and

  find out all about Billy Cawley and what happened in Mapledon,

  and together with what their parents would’ve told them as they

  grew up – that would be enough.’

  ‘You could be right,’ Anna conceded. ‘I need something more.

  Actual evidence.’

  ‘Yes, I think that would be a better idea. Stay up, put up a

  camera, anything. But make sure you have something solid, then

  take it to the police.’

  After some further, more light-hearted, conversation, Anna

  finished her coffee and got up.

  ‘I’d best be getting back to Mum.’

  ‘Of course, love. Well, it was really great to catch up at last.

  Don’t be a stranger, eh?’

  Anna smiled, but in truth, she was aiming to be just that. As

  she was leaving, she remembered Pat.

  ‘Does Pat Vern still live locally?’

  Sandie frowned. ‘Yeees, although as you know, he’s been

  retired for some time now. Why?’

  Anna hadn’t known that, but continued. ‘Well, he was an

  officer at the time and would remember a lot from then. Plus,

  he may be able to offer some advice about the situation. He’d

  be worth chatting to, unofficially. Is he still in the cottage on the edge of the village?’

  ‘Didn’t your mum tell you?’

  ‘Tell me what?’

  ‘He’s with Tina, love. Has been living with her for over ten

  years.’

  Anna narrowed her eyes, deep in thought. Why hadn’t her

  mum, or Tina, mentioned that? Seemed a strange omission. She

  was surprised; she would never have put Pat with Tina. She

  recalled he’d been to Tina’s house a few times while she’d been

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  over playing with Jonie. Had something been going on, even back then? Behind Mark’s back? An affair?

  ‘No, she didn’t say a thing.’

  ‘Don’t suppose she thou
ght to mention it; it’s old news now.

  It was no surprise, really, after Mark. To have lost her daughter to murder, then her husband to suicide . . .’ Sandie let out a

  long breath. ‘Pat was a godsend, a huge support. Everyone knew

  how he felt of course; it was no secret that he’d always carried

  a torch for Tina. When this all happened, he kind of slipped in,

  moving into Mark’s shoes so to speak.’

  ‘I don’t suppose anyone could begrudge her some light after

  all the dark.’

  ‘No, love. Just a shame for Zoe and Daisy. Another broken

  family in Mapledon.’

  Anna nodded in agreement – the memory of Eric leaving her

  and Muriel flitting through her mind. ‘Okay, well, thanks so

  much, Sandie. You’ve been really helpful. And if you could keep

  an eye on Mum when I’ve gone, that would be great – put my

  mind at ease a bit about her living alone. James had suggested

  I take her home to Bristol with me, but I can’t quite see it

  working particularly well.’

  ‘Goodness, no. Neither can I. And to be honest, I don’t think

  you’d ever get her to leave Mapledon anyway – no matter what

  was going on or how frightened she might be. This place is in

  her blood.’

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  Chapter Fifty-Six

  2019

  Lizzie

  Nerves had prevented Lizzie from eating breakfast, and now, as

  the time rolled on towards lunch, her stomach growled. She’d

  been sitting in her car for the past half an hour, waiting, watching the driveway, her fingers drumming on the wheel. She assumed

  Billy must have transport – how else would he have been visiting

  Mapledon from his caravan in the farmer’s field? He’d said he

  had to be outside a ten-mile radius to keep to his conditions,

  so walking would surely be out of the question. She checked the

  time on her mobile for the twentieth time.

  Had he changed his mind? Decided it wasn’t worth the risk?

  Lizzie glanced back towards the B&B and noticed a shadowy

  figure lurking behind a curtain in one of the upstairs rooms. It

  must be Gwen. She mentioned she’d be getting more rooms

  ready for guests. She was probably wondering why Lizzie was

  sitting in her car. She was drawing attention to herself, so if

  Billy did turn up, Gwen was bound to be even more curious

 

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