also did not wish to get on the wrong side of the Mapledon
Mafia. That was a place of nightmares, and he couldn’t afford
to be in that particular position.
‘We—’ Eric swung his arm around the bar, indicating the
other men sitting around the largest table ‘—don’t really want
him here, in Mapledon. We think it’s time he moved on.’
‘Well, I’m afraid it’s not as simple as asking someone to “move
on”, Eric. He owns property, his daughter goes to school here.
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It would be a huge upheaval for them, particularly so soon after Rosie’s passing.’ Chris pushed his lips into an unsteady smile.
Then, as Eric hadn’t responded, added: ‘Maybe we should think
about offering support, or practical help—’
‘Are you joking?’ Several raised voices erupted from the table
of men. Chris’s shoulders fell, his eyes closing as he awaited the onslaught. ‘The man is a straight-up freak,’ Eric continued. ‘If
he’s not abusing that girl, I’ll eat my hat. You can’t say there’s nothing wrong there, Reverend, can you? I mean, you only have
to look at her, see what shit – pardon my French – she does to
them dolls of hers to know something ain’t right. And then he
has our kids hanging around him all the time. That’s not normal.’
Eric shook his head.
Another man, Mark – Tina Hayes’ husband – stood up,
shouting across the room. His words left Chris in no doubt
where this could go if it were to get out of hand.
‘If that paedo does so much as lay one finger on any of our
kids . . .’ And he drew his forefinger across his throat to indicate Billy Cawley’s fate.
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Chapter Sixty-One
2019
Anna
Tuesday 16th July
It had felt like an age before Anna managed to help Lizzie out
of the shed and she’d recovered from her panic attack. Had she
known Lizzie was claustrophobic she wouldn’t have taken her
into the humid, dark shed. That, together with the doll’s parts,
must’ve tipped her over the edge.
Anna pressed a glass of cold water into Lizzie’s hand. ‘Drink
this,’ she told her.
Lizzie gulped it down.
‘Thanks,’ she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her
hand. She came across as a vulnerable girl, sitting cross-legged, pale and shaky on the grass. Anna saw her mum at the kitchen
window; she hadn’t been able to prevent her from knowing
Lizzie was there once she’d rushed into the kitchen for water.
It was inevitable she’d ask questions now and Anna would have
to disclose the latest find and tell her she’d found a note in the doll’s head.
‘You feeling better?’
‘Much.’ Lizzie pushed herself into a standing position. ‘Maybe
we could go inside? Have a chat?’
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Anna nodded, and they headed in through the back door, Muriel’s puzzled gaze following them.
‘What’s going on?’ she said. She was standing with her arms
crossed firmly, her features carved into an accusatory glower.
‘There’s been another one, Mum.’ Anna told her as they all
positioned themselves at the dining room table.
Muriel sighed. ‘Right. Well, I’ll make us a cuppa then, shall
I?’
She didn’t wait for a response, sliding back off her chair and
walking to the kitchen area. Anna noted that she avoided looking
at Lizzie.
‘I have a bad feeling we’re going to receive the entire doll
piece by piece,’ Anna said. ‘What do you think will happen once
the doll is complete?’
‘I don’t know. But only three more parts to go? Then we’ll
see, I guess.’
‘Should I involve the police?’ Anna whispered, hoping Muriel
wouldn’t hear her above the noise of the boiling kettle. ‘Mum
really doesn’t think it’s necessary, but the more this goes on,
the less inclined I am to go along with that.’
‘I honestly don’t know, Anna. I’m not sure the police can
really help—’
‘Of course she doesn’t want you to involve the police, Anna.
Because she is probably the one behind it all,’ Muriel said, her
mouth contracted into a tight pout as she plonked two mugs
in front of Anna and Lizzie.
‘Mum!’ Anna tutted. Her mother could be so rude; too direct,
sometimes.
‘What? You weren’t thinking the same thing?’
‘Look, can I just remind you that you didn’t want to involve
the police either, so does that mean you have something to hide too?’
It was meant as a way of closing her mother down, giving
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back. She saw a look pass between Muriel and Lizzie – each was drawing a battle line; each knew something about the other and
was deciding whether they should be the one to throw the first
punch.
Anna, it appeared, had been left very much in the dark about
something.
‘Are either of you going to tell me what the hell is going on,
please? What is it you know that I don’t?’
‘Nothing,’ Muriel stated defensively. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘Bollocks.’
‘Anna! Refrain from using that language in my house.’
‘Then refrain from lying to me. I’m not having it.’
Lizzie placed her hands on the table, hard. ‘Right. It’s about
time we all took some responsibility for this . . . this . . . predicament – for want of a better word – that we find ourselves in.
We’re all involved, whether we like it or not. Let’s get real, and maybe we can figure out who’s doing this, and why, and put a
bloody stop to it before someone gets hurt. So, Muriel – over
to you. You can start, don’t you think?’
Anna’s hands felt tingly, her fingers numb. She wasn’t sure
she was ready to hear this. She placed both her elbows on the
table and cupped her chin in her hands. To steady herself. To
prepare for whatever was about to be said.
‘I’m all ears.’
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Chapter Sixty-Two
2019
Lizzie
All Lizzie could do was watch and wait to see how the situation
unfolded. She didn’t really have much idea what Muriel might
or might not know – but Anna seemed confident her mother
knew something and, given one of Lizzie’s only childhood
memories related to being brought to Muriel and Anna’s house,
she was sure Anna was right. Lizzie only had one thing on Muriel
– and that had come from her dad earlier on. It was ammuni-
tion, if required, but she couldn’t be certain it was true. The
lines between truth and lies appeared to be blurred beyond
recognition where Mapledon and its inhabitants were concern
ed.
The toxicity of the place was beginning to take over, sinking
into her like poison from a snake bite – she wondered how long
it would be before it took a firm hold and dragged her down,
away from her life, away from Dom.
Lizzie almost felt sorry for the old woman sitting in front of
her, her eyes weak and watery, filled with uncertainty and maybe
a glimmer of fear. Muriel Fisher had aged in a matter of minutes.
What could be so bad to have caused such a reaction? Lizzie sat
back in her chair, ready now to find out. Hoping she wasn’t
about to be told yet more lies.
‘Go on, Mum,’ Anna said. Lizzie thought Anna’s eyes looked
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dark, lifeless. Not like they’d appeared the first day she’d met her at the church gate. She, too, should get out while she could.
‘It’s been thirty years,’ Muriel said shakily before pausing.
Lizzie suppressed a laugh. She’d immediately remembered a
similar line spoken by the old woman in the film Titanic, and half expected to see Muriel’s appearance change from the one
in front of her to the thirty-eight-year-old Muriel from 1989,
when all this started. Lizzie coughed, putting her hand to her
mouth to disguise the smile. None of this was remotely funny;
she recognised her reaction as one she used to employ when
she was a child – a defence mechanism, she’d later realised.
Muriel’s attention was on her hands, her fingers turning the
gold band of her wedding ring round and round. For a moment
Lizzie was mesmerised, then she remembered the point of this
chat.
‘Are you okay, Muriel?’ she asked.
‘Yes, yes. Just thinking.’ Finally, she looked up, making eye
contact with Lizzie. Her heartbeat jolted as Muriel’s gaze, her
non-blinking eyes, penetrated hers. ‘I thought I was saving you.
Saving Eliza.’
‘So, it was you who got social services involved?’
‘Yes, I suppose I was the one who got the ball rolling. I didn’t
act alone. I wouldn’t have interfered had it not been for the
others agreeing.’
‘I see. But why did you bring me here?’ Lizzie said, scrunching
her face up.
‘We needed to get you away from him. You were never allowed to speak with anyone when he was around. That’s why Reverend
Farnley convinced him to enrol you in the Sunday school too,
to distance you – get you alone. But that wasn’t enough. They
wanted evidence.’
‘Who, social services?’
‘Yes. It wasn’t enough for us to be suspicious, for us to think
he was neglecting you, abusing you, even. Mad, really. What
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would it have taken? For him to murder you?’ Muriel looked away. ‘I mean, they only had to look at you, see what you were
doing with your toys to see you were disturbed.’
Lizzie flinched. ‘Taking dolls apart doesn’t necessarily equate
to abuse though, surely?’
‘No, but together with the other things, we felt it did.’
‘And by “we” you mean the other villagers?’ Lizzie asked.
‘No, not all of them,’ Anna said. She’d been silent up till then.
‘You mean the women who were part of the Mapledon Meetings,
don’t you.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement – bordering
on an accusation, given the tone of Anna’s voice.
Muriel shifted in her seat. ‘Yes. The topic of Billy Cawley had
been one discussed at pretty much every meeting since he moved
into that bungalow.’
‘You didn’t like him, right from the start, did you? Didn’t want to even try,’ Anna said.
‘It wasn’t like that. Not really. I agree, he didn’t fit in – he
didn’t try to. So inevitably that got some people’s backs up. It’s a tight-knit village. We all pull together, all get involved for the good of the community. Billy Cawley wasn’t interested in all
that; he didn’t care. He was often rude, abrupt, and he kept
Rosie and Eliza on a tight leash, which in our minds rang alarm
bells. Once Rosie died, he seemed even more determined to keep
you to himself.’ Muriel looked to Lizzie and sighed, as though
remembering that time.
‘I didn’t have any friends, did I?’ Lizzie stated.
‘No, love. Although some kids did try. Young Robert for
instance.’
Lizzie sat up straighter. ‘Rob? As in Nell Andrews’ son from
Brook Cottage Store?’
‘Yes. There was one time in particular, I remember. Nell had
finished work late one afternoon, and found that Robert had
left the house, even after being told not to. Transpired he’d been inside the bungalow; Billy had actually let him in. Rumours flew 226
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around afterwards because Robert seemed scared, distant when he’d returned home. Refused to ever speak about that afternoon.
Something had spooked him. Or someone.’
Lizzie thought about her evening with Rob. He’d been
adamant he didn’t remember anything specific about Jonie, and
hadn’t mentioned this incident with Billy or Eliza. What was he
hiding? Or, perhaps it wasn’t that he was hiding something; it could be he’d buried a terrible memory. Had her dad done
something to him too?
‘Anyway, carry on, Mum,’ Anna coaxed.
‘There isn’t much more to say. Suffice to say Billy was angry
when Eliza was taken away from him—’
‘Hang on,’ Lizzie said. ‘You’re jumping ahead. You mentioned
social services wanted evidence. What convinced them they
should take me into care in the end, then?’
Muriel sighed. ‘We videoed you,’ she said, quietly.
‘ Videoed me? Doing what?’ Lizzie felt her voice rise. She didn’t like where this was going.
‘Me and Nell set up the camera and brought you here. We’d
done it several times in the hopes of getting you to admit what
your father was doing to you.’
‘ Get me to admit? Christ, that sounds more like coercion! Or did you go a few steps further and waterboard me to force me
to say what you wanted?’ Lizzie’s face blazed. She’d been a child, and these women had manipulated her. She shot Anna a look
of disgust. Did she know what her mother had done?
‘No, not coerced,’ Muriel said. ‘We were gentle – tried to get
you to open up to us by being supportive and encouraging,
that’s all.’
‘Two grown women took me, and I’m guessing without my
father’s permission, and kept me in their house to drag some
kind of sick confession from me?’ The anger was building,
Lizzie’s heart pounding. ‘Is that not abduction? Maybe it was
you who took Jonie Hayes!’
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The words hung between them – Anna and Muriel’s expressions stunned at her accusation.
‘Lizzie, please calm down,’ Anna said as she rose from her
chair and put her arm around Lizzie’s shoulders. She shrugged
her off.
&
nbsp; ‘I am calm. For a woman who’s just found out that not only had her own father let her down, she’d also been manipulated
by other adults as a child.’
‘But you did tell us, eventually.’ Muriel’s voice was confident
now, as if the end had justified the means. ‘Poor little Eliza, it broke my heart.’
‘What broke your heart?’ Lizzie’s eyes immediately stung with
tears. It’d been building to this.
‘You had a doll, Polly you called her . . .’ Muriel paused,
looking up to Lizzie.
Here we go. ‘Yes, I remember her.’
‘It was the only doll you seemed to love; the only one intact.’
Muriel took a deep breath. ‘And you showed us, using the doll.
You showed us what he’d done to you.’
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Chapter Sixty-Three
1989
Hayes residence
Monday 12th June – 37 days before
Mark grabbed Tina around the waist, grasped both her hands
and then pulled her in to him. He twirled her around the kitchen, dancing to Jason Donovan’s ‘Sealed With A Kiss’. Jonie jumped
out of their way, eyes rolling. ‘Yuk,’ she said, her nose wrinkled.
‘What do you mean, yuk? We’re just dancing.’
‘It’s gross.’
‘Oh, really!’ Mark said, coming to a stop in front of his
daughter. ‘You won’t think so one day – you’ll be dying for a
boy to sweep you off your feet and dance with you.’
‘Boys are stupid. And I can dance on my own, or with Bella.
I don’t need a boy. ’
Mark laughed, sharing a knowing look with Tina. He’d
remind Jonie of that when she was a teenager and crying over
some boy. He ruffled Jonie’s hair before turning his attention
back to Tina. Her indigo-coloured shirt made her cool, blue
eyes pop; their intensity seemed to penetrate his very soul. He
wished he could see contentment – happiness – behind those
eyes. He longed for the love he had for her to be reflected in
them. They didn’t argue, or not often, but he’d felt a distance
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between them over the past year. Maybe he was neglecting her, spending too much time at the pub with the fellas. He should
make more of an effort, he thought.
‘Fancy a barbecue at the weekend?’ he asked, brightly. ‘We
could invite everyone, make the most of the good weather.’
I Dare You (ARC) Page 22