a shiny, silver toast rack, place a pot of butter and one of jam
onto a plate and present it to Eric on the dining room table.
That had been her father’s breakfast every day for the years he’d spent at home. For the ten years of Anna’s life he’d been around.
‘Have you checked the front door?’ Muriel asked.
‘No. I was gearing up for it. I didn’t sleep much, kept jolting
awake at every small sound. I didn’t hear any loud banging or
anything, though. Maybe there’s nothing. Yet.’
‘I glanced at the doormat first thing but was waiting for you
to check the door. Not sure my poor heart can take any more,
if I’m honest.’
‘Ditto,’ Anna said. ‘And if there’s going to be a “big one”,
it’ll be today. I feel it.’
‘Should we check the security camera first?’
‘Yes, good idea. We’ll be prepared then.’
Muriel and Anna both made their way upstairs to the spare
room – the box-room at the front of the house where the
recorder and monitor were set up. Anna peered out through the
curtains. No one was about.
‘Do you know how to work it, Anna?’ Muriel took her glasses
off her head, perching them on the end of her nose, and stared
over them at the blank monitor screen. Anna smiled. Why put
glasses on and then look over the top of them? She didn’t bother
to voice the question.
‘I had a practice; it’s very straightforward,’ Anna said.
‘Well, it is for you youngsters, not so much for me.’
‘Don’t worry. Let’s hope you don’t need to become an
expert . . .’
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Anna pushed a few buttons and the image of the front door popped up on the screen.
‘Damn.’
‘It’s the body,’ Muriel said, her tone defeated. ‘I didn’t hear
it. Must be going deaf as well as daft.’
One of her mother’s favourite sayings.
‘Okay, well we can at least go back through the recording.
Maybe we’ll catch them in the act and be able to identify the
fuc—’
Muriel shot Anna a hard stare.
‘Sorry. I stopped myself, didn’t I?’ Anna protested, feeling
like a child again.
‘I’m scared to see,’ Muriel said quietly.
‘Don’t watch then. I’ll find the right bit, see if there’s anything helpful. You can make your mind up if you want to know afterwards.’
For a moment Muriel looked confused, but then she straight-
ened and agreed it would be better if Anna checked first. She
backed out of the room.
Anna went to the beginning of the recorded footage. She
watched minute after minute of the infrared grey-white,
non-moving image of the front door. Then, with the time
showing at 2.13 a.m., Anna noticed a shift in brightness. A
torchlight on the door? She sat forwards, her heart racing at the thought she was about to see someone. The person who’d been
leaving the doll’s parts, leaving the notes. She held her breath
as a dark figure approached the door.
A gloved hand reached up, steadying what must be the doll’s
body, as the other hand pushed something against it. They
didn’t appear to have a hammer; it must just be a pin. But
Anna’s attention had left the gloved hands. It was focused on
the hooded figure. She’d known she wouldn’t be able to tell
the identity of the Knock, Knock player – they would’ve been
prepared and covered themselves as much as possible. But
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Anna could distinguish their build, as she’d hoped would be the case.
And Anna was certain she was not watching Billy Cawley at
her door.
She rewound the footage and watched again, and again.
It was a woman, she was sure.
Had Muriel been right all along? Was it Eliza Cawley – Lizzie?
The woman had reached up quite high to pin the body to
the door. Maybe that would indicate how tall she was.
Anna rushed down the stairs and flung the door open,
revealing the torso. Polly’s torso. It had only been attached with a large pin, no nail this time. To ensure she and Muriel couldn’t hear her this time? Had the unidentified woman seen, or known,
about the camera too?
‘I’ve checked the camera footage, Mum.’ Anna walked into
the lounge, the torso in her hand.
‘And?’ Muriel turned and her face fell as she noticed what
Anna was holding. ‘Oh.’
‘It’s a woman. It’s not Billy doing this to you.’
Muriel seemed to shrink a little. Relief relaxed her face. ‘That’s something. But why? Why is a woman doing this? Unless I was
right, that Lizzie can’t be trusted, that it’s her and she’s the one who wanted revenge for her dad.’
‘It’s a possibility. We have to work on the assumption it is
her for now, I think. She did seem particularly upset at finding
out how you and Nell had recorded her confession. And she
was very keen on pushing the attention onto Tina.’
‘Tina? How come? You never told me that.’
‘Only just happened, I haven’t had a chance to discuss it with
you. Lizzie thinks there’s some kind of Stepford wives thing
going on in Mapledon – that the monthly meetings the women
had were in some way the key to the bad goings-on in the village.
Key to getting her father put into prison.’
‘That’s absurd,’ Muriel said. ‘The more you say, the more I’m
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certain it’s her. She’s a very damaged young woman, Anna. You need to be careful there.’
‘I will. Anyway, let’s see what this torso has for us.’ Anna
pushed two fingers inside the hollow – through the hole where
a leg should go – and pulled out a piece of folded paper. She
was about to put the body on the table, when something else
caught her eye. ‘There’s something else in this one.’
‘Oh, now what?’ Muriel sounded deflated.
Anna had expected something in addition to the doll’s body, something significant being that it was the anniversary, but still she felt a surge of panic. Her fingers shook as she grasped the
small, round item and pulled it clear. She stared at the cloth-covered ball sitting in the palm of her hand.
‘Open it,’ Muriel said. Her voice had lost all power. She was
scared. Which scared Anna.
She carefully unravelled the small parcel. Anna sucked in her
breath as she realised what she was holding.
‘Shit!’ Anna breathed. Muriel didn’t chastise her language
use. Anna sensed she was thinking the same. ‘How? Why?’ Anna
couldn’t order her thoughts.
In her hand lay a small, silver, heart locket on a dainty chain.
And they both knew whose it was.
Neither of them looked at the other.
‘The note might explain,’ Anna whispered.
‘No! Don’t read it!’ Muriel lurched forwards, grappling to
take the paper from the table. Anna was quicker.
‘God, Mum! Why? We may as well – and actually we
need to.
We have to know who had this and why? Not to mention, how?’
Muriel’s face contorted. Tears escaped her screwed-up eyes.
Anna’s chest tightened. What the hell was this reaction?
‘Don’t, Anna. It’ll be lies, rubbish. Just like everything else.
No good can come—’
‘Of digging up the past. Yeah, I know. You and Nell have been
very keen on telling me that. You are both hiding something
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– don’t think I don’t know. Now, come on. It’s time for the truth to surface.’
Muriel shook her head, tears still spilling down her face.
Was Anna about to find out what Muriel had done? She
obviously thought it was all about to come out. That’s why she
didn’t want Anna to read the note.
With her eyes watching her mother carefully, Anna unfolded
the paper.
SOMEONE HAS TO CONFESS, NOW!
Anna was about to shout, to say how this was a repeat of the
note found in the leg. But the words continued.
Anna’s legs weakened. Her arm felt heavy – she dropped her
hand to her side, the note falling from it. Muriel slowly bent
down to retrieve it. She read it, then reached a hand out to
Anna.
‘Darling, I’m sorry.’
Anna stared, open-mouthed. It didn’t make sense. The words
were wrong. She must’ve misread them. She snatched the paper
from her mother’s hand and looked again.
No. She hadn’t been mistaken. She read the words aloud this
time.
‘AND THAT SOMEONE IS YOU, BELLA.’
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Chapter Eighty
2019
Lizzie
‘I think you need to go back a few steps. Tell me from the
beginning.’
‘You got all night?’ Billy smiled, weakly.
‘I’ve got however long it takes,’ Lizzie said. She took her
mobile phone and tapped out a text to Dom. There was no
service, as expected, but he’d hopefully get it before he had time to really worry about her. Then she set her phone to record,
placing it on the small, square, melamine table in front of them.
Billy closed his eyes, sighing deeply. ‘It’s odd. I’ve kept this
inside for thirty years. Almost as long as I was inside. It feels wrong, almost, to speak of it again now. Maybe I should let
sleeping dogs lie.’
‘But what good will that do? If you’re innocent, like you say,
then someone else is guilty. Why should they get away with it?’
‘I don’t expect you to understand, Eliza.’
‘Can you call me Lizzie, please?’
‘Sure. Seems no one wants to be themselves anymore. Maybe
I should change my name too.’
‘I think you should, actually. Anyway, enough stalling. I want
to hear your side. I need to know. I realise it must be difficult for you to talk about it all these years later, but it’s important 305
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to me to know the truth. Don’t you think I deserve it? And Tina Hayes? That poor woman has been suffering terribly, wondering
where her girl is.’
At the mention of Tina, Lizzie noticed Billy’s face lose its
colour. She’d been right. When she’d seen how close they were
standing in the photo, she’d known there was more to them
than anyone else knew. It was her name that now seemed to be
the magic word to get Billy Cawley to begin his story.
‘Right. Okay. So, Muriel Fisher started it. The whole campaign
to drive me from the village came from her. She was the force
behind it all. At first, I thought her heart was in the right place.
You were a strange child.’ Billy looked into her eyes, putting his head to one side. ‘Sorry, but it’s true. Not that it was your
fault . . .’
‘It’s fine. I get it. Go on,’ Lizzie said.
‘I think she saw the damage inside you before I really under-
stood it. But instead of looking for the real reason, she assumed I was . . . abusing you . . .’ He struggled to say the words. ‘Once she’d got that notion in her head, there was no stopping her.
She looked for evidence of it, but when she didn’t find any, she
decided to make it up instead. I’d already given her the ideal
background – you know the kids of the village had decided I
was a weirdo and hounded me?’
‘Yes. I don’t have any memory of it, but I heard all about the
Knock, Knock, Ginger games and how you were always the main
target.’
‘Yes, and after a while – bearing in mind I was grieving and
a mess – I gave in to it and played along.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It got so tiring, the constant banging on my door, the stones
thrown at the windows. The copper wasn’t going to do anything
– the kids outran that fat bugger every time.’
‘Pat Vern? He’s with Tina Hayes now,’ Lizzie said.
‘Yeah, I know.’ Billy shrugged. ‘Anyway, I thought if I couldn’t
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beat the little shits, I may as well have some fun with them. So, I began chasing them myself. Ran after them down the cul-de-sac
screaming blue murder, threatening to give them a hiding they’d
never forget. Hearing them scream like babies gave me an
element of satisfaction. Sometimes I’d have a giggle when I got
back home, puffed out and red-faced. Those ended up being
the only times I ever laughed!’
‘But it added to your scary persona. Reinforced everyone’s
belief you were a weirdo and the kids should be afraid of you.
All it did was make you more of a target because you became
a challenge. If a kid could get close to the bungalow – or even
inside – it gave them greater kudos with their mates.’
‘Exactly. Which all came back to bite me on the arse when
Jonie Hayes went missing.’ Billy leant forwards, resting his
clasped hands on his thighs. ‘She’d been one of the kids who’d
regularly played Knock, Knock. Her and the liar.’
‘The liar?’
‘Yeah. The one who told the police what she saw that day.’
‘Bella Fisher.’
‘Yep – the bitch’s daughter.’
‘She gave the description of your truck, which was easily
recognisable to everyone around here, and told the police she’d
seen Jonie get into it and you drive away. Out of the village.’
‘That’s what she said, yes. But the girl lied, Lizzie. She had
to have done.’
‘But they found DNA evidence in your truck?’
‘Oh, you mean the planted evidence? Yes, well. What they
found was a piece of clothing, a dress, with blood on it. They
may as well have set the dogs on me there and then. No one in
the village even waited to find out whose it was. And it just so
happened that it was Eliza’s— your dress. It was my blood. But instead of them thinking “Oh, we were wrong”, that piece of
so-called evidence seemed to be the final nail in the coffin. If I could hurt you, I coul
d hurt Jonie Hayes. They thought I’d taken
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her to replace my daughter. To replace you. To do to her what they always thought I did to you. But I never touched you. As
I say, the blood was mine. You hit out at me several times. You
acted so oddly, you actually scared me. I put it down to the
shock of losing your mother. It was more than that, but I didn’t
have the chance to find out. Because that fucking bitch manip-
ulated you into telling social that I did stuff to you. Hideous
stuff. Unthinkable. It destroyed me.’
‘Yes, I know about that now. Muriel confessed.’
‘It wasn’t me though. I wasn’t the one abusing you.’
Lizzie frowned. ‘Meaning what? You think I was abused?’
‘Oh, yes. I know it.’
‘Who? Who did it? Do you know?’
‘I have my suspicion – I’ll get to that later. But, like everything else in that fucked-up place, the villagers hid it. They looked
after their own. I was the obvious culprit. They didn’t bother looking elsewhere. I was set up for that, then they pinned Jonie
on me, too. On the outsider who had nothing left to lose.’
‘How, though? I get you’d built a bit of a reputation, which
was then reinforced with me being taken away, but to be charged
with abduction and murder? I don’t understand how anyone
could’ve achieved it.’
‘A lot was circumstantial. Even the dress – which they later
found out was yours – and the blood, which was mine, wouldn’t
have held up in court. But a little girl’s witness statement to the police, one detailing my vehicle and saying how I’d chased her
and her friend Jonie, how I’d then grabbed Jonie and bundled
her into the truck – well, they listened to that, and they believed it. Because I didn’t have an alibi – or rather no one would admit to seeing me anywhere else at that specific time – this was deemed the key evidence. And when the police searched the bungalow . . .
that’s when they found it.’
‘What?’
‘Her necklace. They said I must’ve taken it as a trophy.’
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Chapter Eighty-One
1989
Fisher residence
Wednesday 19th July – the day of, 7 p.m.
‘Is Bella home with you?’
‘Yes, Tina. She’s been home for a while,’ Muriel said. Would
I Dare You (ARC) Page 30