everyone was present at or something, or maybe it was an anni-
versary – however many years since we first began them. I can’t
remember.’ Nell stepped back. ‘Anyway, I need Rob back in the
shop. I’ve left it unattended.’
‘Maybe Rob can go back in and you stay here for a bit?’ Lizzie
asked suddenly.
Nell bristled. ‘I haven’t got time for this nonsense.’
‘There’s something in Tina’s expression that’s unsettling,
don’t you think?’ Lizzie said, ignoring Nell’s comment. ‘What
did you discuss at these meetings, Nell?’
‘Mrs Andrews to you,’ she snapped.
Anna hadn’t seen Nell for many years prior to this visit; maybe
she’d always been sharp, snappy. But she didn’t think so. Lizzie
had hit a nerve.
‘Sorry. What went on at the meeting, Mrs Andrews?’
Nell puffed out her chest. ‘All sorts,’ she said. ‘How am I
meant to remember now? We covered a lot of topics: how to
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raise money for new playground equipment, how to make the roads safer for the children, that sort of thing.’
‘And how to make the children safer in general?’ Lizzie asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, none of the villagers made a secret of the fact they
mistrusted my dad, did they? He wasn’t liked. So, did you discuss that at your meetings? Did you talk about what to do about him?’ Lizzie’s voice rose as she spoke, her face turning a deep shade of pink.
‘It’s so long ago, no point digging up the past,’ Nell said.
Anna’s blood chilled in her veins. ‘Funny,’ she said. ‘That’s
word-for-word what my mother said.’
Nell bowed her head.
Anna wondered now, more than ever, just what had gone on
at those meetings. Why were her mother and Nell so cagey about
them? It was almost as though it were some kind of secret society.
As if Lizzie had read Anna’s mind, she walked up to Nell and
said: ‘Mapledon has a whole Stepford wives vibe about it, doesn’t it? I don’t know how you bear it – it’s suffocating. You’re trapped, aren’t you. I think the truth would set you free, Nell. Sorry –
Mrs Andrews.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Nell backed away
from Lizzie. ‘You come here, pretending to be someone you’re
not, raking up the past for your own benefit. You’re disgusting.
Just like your father.’ Nell’s face scrunched up into an unat-tractive ball of wrinkles, spittle forming at the corners of her
mouth.
‘Mum!’ Rob said, a hand raised towards his mother. ‘Enough.’
‘Well!’ Nell shook herself, as if to rid her body of something
clinging to it. ‘If it wasn’t for the pair of them, this village
would’ve carried on as normal. And poor Jonie Hayes would be
here now. When you went, you weren’t meant to come back,’
Nell said, her words almost hissing like a snake.
Anna, Lizzie and Rob remained silent as Nell stormed out of
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the room, each seeming to be as shocked as the other by the outburst.
Anna turned to Lizzie. ‘I think we’ve found out enough for
now. Let’s go, shall we?’
If Anna was certain of one thing, it was that those women
had done something more than just get Eliza Cawley taken away
from her father.
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Chapter Seventy-Seven
2019
Lizzie
Lizzie drove in stunned silence back to Anna’s house. Whilst
she’d been glad the topic of Rob’s childhood visit to their
bungalow hadn’t come up again, she hadn’t expected the turn
of events that had unfolded. She was so pleased Anna had been
present. She was another witness to Nell’s outburst.
‘I think you should be here tomorrow,’ Anna said when Lizzie
pulled up outside her house. Her body was turned towards
Lizzie, her eyes staring, intense.
‘Because it’s the anniversary?’
‘Yes. After that bizarre display, I think we should face whatever is coming together.’
‘Okay. But we won’t know when.’
‘You could stay here for the night, just in case?’
Lizzie wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not sure. My husband turned
up last night and he’s staying at the B&B too now.’
‘Oh? How come?’
‘Long story. But basically, he didn’t know.’ Lizzie slumped. ‘As
in, he didn’t know who I was. Who my father is. His release has
had such a huge impact. Greater than I imagined it would, actually.’
‘I’m sorry. Everything you went through, and now you’re
reliving it – like watching the DVD but with bonus material.’
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Lizzie laughed.
‘Oh, well I’m glad you can still laugh,’ Anna said. ‘That’s
something.’
‘What’s the saying? If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry?’
‘Yup!’ Anna turned away and opened the car door. Before
closing it, she lowered her head back inside. ‘Whatever happens,
Lizzie, whatever truth we find – if we do get to the truth – I
hope you can finally move on. Enjoy your life as you should.’
Lizzie swallowed the painful lump in her throat. ‘Thank you.
I really hope the same for you, too. Let’s pray the truth isn’t as painful as the lies have been.’
Anna nodded and slammed the door. Lizzie watched her walk
down the path and in through the front door. She drove to the
end of the road and stopped to make a call while she had a few
bars of signal. The phone still went straight to voicemail.
‘Hey, Dom. Sorry, but I’m not coming back to the B&B just
yet. I have to make a trip into town to interview someone of
interest. I’ll give you another call when I can – signal is iffy, so don’t worry if you don’t hear from me. I’ll be back by dark.’
She hung up, then clicked on Google Maps, searching for
farms situated around ten miles from Mapledon. She hoped
there weren’t too many places with caravans in the vicinity. Two
farms showed up: Blasedale and Haytor Vale. Lizzie decided
Blasedale fitted the description her dad had given. Anticipation
growing in her stomach, she set off.
The steering was heavy; she needed to really pull at the wheel
to manoeuvre the car up the dirt track approaching Blasedale
Farm. She abandoned it at the side of a barn, and continued
on foot towards the gate, which looked to lead to the back, and,
with luck, the caravans. She wondered how many were on the
land, and how easy it would be to locate Billy’s. It would be
preferable to find him without having to ask anyone – she wasn’t
sure what details he would’ve given and didn’t want to say the
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wrong thing. Lizzie lifted the wooden gate, walking through and closing it behind her. No
one was in sight; she couldn’t even
hear any noises she’d associate with a working farm. Maybe it
wasn’t a working farm anymore.
Lizzie felt her muscles relax as she rounded the corner and
saw just two caravans in a field not far from the farmhouse.
Please let this be the right place.
She trudged into the field and approached the first caravan,
tiptoeing to peer inside the window. It looked empty. If the
other one was, she’d have to drive to the next farm. What if
Billy had lied about where he was? The thought crushed her.
There would be no other way of finding him. She’d have to wait
for him to come to her. She almost laughed at the irony.
She held her breath as she looked through the only clean spot
on the dirty window of the second caravan. Then released it in
a rush of air. Billy was inside. She took a few moments to
compose herself, then knocked on the door. Her knuckles made
a hollow sound on the plastic.
‘Well, well. This is a surprise,’ Billy said as he opened it. ‘I
didn’t think I’d see you anytime soon.’
‘Me neither, if I’m honest,’ she said.
‘Come in, if you like?’
Lizzie stepped up inside the caravan, a faint smell of gone-off
food wafting towards her. She cast her eyes around the small
space.
‘It’s not much. But it’s better than a prison cell.’ He smiled
as he quickly cast his eyes around the caravan’s interior. ‘Sit
down. What is it that you want?’
Lizzie cautiously moved to the end of the caravan and sat,
her back rigid. ‘I want to know the full story. The real one. No lies, no bullshit. Straight-up what happened to me, why I was
taken, why the Mapledon villagers wanted you gone so badly.
All of it. I need to know what they did and whether you’re here
to take revenge.’ Lizzie took a breath.
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‘Hmmm . . .’ Billy said, perching on the edge of the square-looking sofa that ran along one side of the caravan. ‘You didn’t
seem like you were ready, or even willing, to hear about it when
I saw you the other day.’
‘No. I wasn’t ready then. But I am now.’
‘Fine, I’ll tell you what you want to know. But you have to
believe what I say. Not all of it will make sense to you. Most of it won’t sound believable. One part specifically. But I promise you now, what comes out of my mouth will be the truth. I’m
not going to lie to you. You need to be certain you want to
know. You need to be sure you can handle the fallout. Because
all I want is a quiet life now, and somehow I get the feeling after this conversation, shit will hit the fan, so to speak. As seems to be the popular saying in Mapledon – if you don’t want to get
your hands dirty, don’t go digging in the dirt. And you, my girl, are digging deep.’
‘I’m aware of that. But it’s time, Dad. Time for the truth.
Even if that means more pain.’
Billy nodded and slipped down so that he was sitting on the
sofa cushion beside her.
Lizzie caught the scent of Old Spice. She angled her body so
she was fully facing him. He was clean-shaven today, and wore
a plain black T-shirt, untucked from his dark blue denim jeans.
He’d tidied himself up since she’d first met him. She almost
smiled – for some reason his neatened appearance – the fact he
was making an effort and taking pride in himself – made her
feel a warmth towards him. He seemed calm and in control
when he spoke again; he started slowly, his voice low and meas-
ured. ‘The lies began early on. The ones circulating the village
about me abusing you being some of the first. But the biggest
lie of all came two days after Jonie Hayes went missing. And
that’s when I knew.’
‘Knew what?’ Lizzie shifted awkwardly on the firm-cushioned
sofa, creating a little more distance between her and Billy.
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‘Knew that whatever I said was a waste of time. No one was going to believe weirdo Creepy Cawley, were they? Who’d believe
a loner and a child molester?’
‘But you hadn’t been convicted, no charges came about for
abusing me, did they?’
‘Because I was innocent!’ he shouted suddenly, running his
fingers through his grey hair. ‘But it didn’t matter by then. Shit sticks, Eliza. No smoke without fire, as they say. And they knew that. That’s how come it worked.’
‘How come what worked?’
‘Their plan. They knew I’d struggle to get out of the mess
they’d created for me. The stage was set, and I was the number
one suspect. The only suspect in their minds. The only one they
ever wanted.’
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Chapter Seventy-Eight
1989
Fisher residence
Wednesday 19th July – the day of, 6.15 p.m.
Bella couldn’t catch her breath. She’d run home all the way, not
stopping once. She couldn’t; she was too afraid. Too afraid to
look back. Now, safely behind her front door, she collapsed in
a heap, gasping for air.
‘Whatever’s the matter, Bella?’ Her mother appeared from
the lounge doorway and then rushed towards her, bending down
in front of her.
Bella couldn’t speak.
‘Slow it down, take deep breaths,’ she coaxed, taking Bella’s
hands in hers and waiting for her to calm. ‘You’re shaking,’ she
said, her brow creasing with concern.
Bella heard a sob. It had come from her – from deep inside,
bubbling up and erupting noisily. Tears stung her eyes.
She shouldn’t have run. But what other choice had there
been?
The shaking got worse, her teeth chattering together violently.
Muriel pulled Bella in close to her, wrapping her arms tightly
around her trembling body. She brushed Bella’s golden hair
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down with her hand, whispering comforting ‘shushings’ into her ear.
They rocked together on the floor, saying nothing.
‘I’m home!’ Eric called as he opened the back door. He turned
to bang his boots against the back step to dislodge mud.
‘You’re late,’ Muriel said.
‘What’s going on here?’ he asked, ignoring her statement as
he entered the lounge, his eyes squinting at Muriel and Bella
huddled together on the sofa.
Muriel glanced up at him, shaking her head gently. ‘I don’t
know, Eric. But it must be bad – she hasn’t spoken a word yet.
She’s been in this state since she ran in an hour ago.’
‘Come on, love,’ Eric said, crouching down in front of them.
‘Tell Daddy what’s happened. Have you fallen out with Jonie
again?’
Bella’s sobs started up again.
‘What’s she done this time?’ Eric bellowed. ‘Tell me, and I’ll
go over there right now and sort it out.’
‘Eric! That’s not helpful,’ Muriel said, glowering at him. She
turned her attention back to Bella. ‘Dad’s worried. I’m worried.
You need to tell us what’s happened, darling.’
Bella pushed herself away from her mum and, with tears
cascading down her still-red cheeks, took some deep breaths.
She stared into her father’s eyes, searching them. Eric looked
away.
Bella’s stomach hurt. Her limbs still burned from the running.
She wanted to go to her room, dive under her duvet and never
come out. But she knew she couldn’t. She had to say something.
‘He – he . . . chased . . . us,’ she stuttered. ‘Billy.’ A sob racked her body. ‘It’s . . . Jonie . . . I left her. It’s . . . my fault.’
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Chapter Seventy-Nine
2019
Anna
Friday 19th July
A nervous, tight ball sat heavily in the pit of her stomach.
Today was the day. Exactly thirty years ago, Jonie Hayes went
missing. Thirty years ago, to the day, Anna’s life changed. She
stopped being Bella. She stopped being a child. Her memories
of that Wednesday afternoon were still vague, the timeline hazy.
The other night Pat Vern had told her she and Muriel hadn’t
reported Jonie’s abduction to the police until the Friday, which
she still found hard to comprehend. She would obviously have
been suffering from shock, but since she realised there’d been
a time lapse, Anna had wondered whether she’d deliberately
held off telling anyone because she’d secretly wanted Jonie to
get into trouble. Wanted her to suffer.
But those reasons seemed too incomprehensible to be true;
the fact she was even considering it horrified her – ten-year-old Bella wouldn’t have been capable of that thinking. She’d been
too young, too innocent. She’d seen her friend being taken by
Creepy Cawley. That would’ve frightened her and the fact she’d
done nothing for almost forty-eight hours must’ve been due
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to feeling numb with shock. It was the only feasible explanation.
She just wished she could recall exactly what had happened to
put her mind at rest.
Anna stared at her mother as she picked at a piece of cold
toast. Muriel had always sliced toast into four, neat triangles.
Anna remembered how her mother would pop the triangles into
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