she had to admit, this wasn’t what she’d imagined. This
outcome wasn’t one she’d even considered. But then, this
couldn’t be the final outcome – not the intended one, anyway.
Because the real culprit, the one who’d done the deed, wasn’t
even in the room.
How could Billy exact revenge if the right people weren’t
there?
‘What do you plan to do with us?’ The voice sounded pathetic,
weak. Nell, her head still lowered but her eyes looking up, was
wringing her hands together as she spoke. Anna had a sudden
disdain for the woman.
‘To do with you?’ Billy asked. He laughed. ‘Have you not
listened to any of what’s been said?’
‘Er – yes,’ Nell said.
‘Then you shouldn’t have to ask.’ Billy shrugged.
Nell seemed perplexed; the answer not good enough. ‘I want
to know,’ she said.
‘For Christ’s sake, woman. I’ve had a lifetime – or what felt
like it – to contemplate, to ruminate and to plan. If I were going to do anything in revenge, it wouldn’t be to bring you all to my
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old bungalow, lock you in while torching it, and to watch it burn to the ground with you all screaming inside, would it?’
The horror on everyone’s face at this suggestion was almost
comical. Feet shuffled towards the door. Billy blocked it.
‘Will you ever learn?’ he mumbled. ‘I want what Eliza . . .
Lizzie . . . told you,’ Billy said more loudly. ‘For you to all admit what you did . . . and to apologise.’
‘Because us saying sorry will make up for it? Yeah, right,’ Rob
said.
‘It won’t, no. But it’ll give me some satisfaction.’
‘Wouldn’t punishing us be more satisfying?’ Muriel said.
‘I think you may have been doing that already.’
‘It’s unfinished, though, isn’t it?’ Rob said. ‘I mean, you
haven’t even got the man behind it here. He’s got away with it.
Again.’ His face held the expression of a sulking teenage boy.
Billy slowly nodded. ‘There are two, actually.’
Anna noticed her mother sway. She rushed to her side,
thinking she might faint.
‘You feeling all right, Mum?’
‘No. Maybe I need a doctor, I might . . . I might . . .’
‘She’s fine! ’ Billy snapped. ‘Leave her. She stays. She’s playing you, like she played you all.’
Anna swallowed hard. Obviously, more was to come. She
wasn’t sure she could take any further revelations.
‘Get on with it,’ Muriel said, seemingly having made a remark-
able recovery.
‘Well, you know, don’t you, Muriel.’ He gave Muriel a lopsided smile. ‘One of them lost his mind long ago. The other will lose
his life anyway – it doesn’t need to be at my hand.’
‘Why? What do you know?’ Anna cut in, assuming it was her
father Billy was referring to about losing his life.
‘Eric’s guilt runs deep. He’s had each and every day to think
about what he did, and he’ll know I’m out of prison. I don’t
think he’ll last long.’
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‘You’re saying he’s going to kill himself? Why would he now, just because you’re free? You must’ve given him reason to think
you’re going to get your revenge – kill him,’ Anna said.
‘I’ve not given any reason for him to suspect that. But he’ll
believe it, because that’s how he’d think if the roles were reversed.
His mind will be working overtime. Because he’s fully compos
mentis and knows he deserves punishing. His mind’s not addled,
like the upstanding member of the community and man of God,
Reverend Farnley.’ Billy threw his arms up in the air, like he was presenting them to God.
‘What’s Reverend Farnley got to do with it?’ Anna asked, the
sudden shift catching her off-guard.
‘Your dear mother was barking up the wrong tree with me,
Bella.’
‘It’s Anna now.’
‘Hmm. Okay, well, Anna – all the while Muriel had been
sticking her nose into my business, trying to find something on
me – a chink in my armour – her precious Reverend was the one abusing my daughter.’
‘You have absolutely no proof of that,’ Muriel shouted.
‘You had no proof it was me, either, but that didn’t stop you
ensuring suspicion was thrown onto me. But you knew he was
touching her; you knew he was the one Eliza was talking about when she used her doll to show you what he did to her, didn’t
you? You let him get away with it just so you could pin it on
me. That’s low, Muriel. Unforgivable. But because you then had
something on the Reverend, you used him to get what you
wanted. He was the one whose so-called evidence tipped the
balance. It was the deciding statement that led social services to take Eliza from me.’
It was too much information in one go – the bloody vicar
had been the one abusing Eliza? Anna looked over at Lizzie – her
face was unreadable. How did Billy even know, though, when
Lizzie herself had no memory of it? Anna’s head ached trying
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to untangle the threads. It was nearing midnight and all she wanted was to get out of this dust-ball and shower, climb into
bed and fall into a deep sleep so she could forget about what
she’d learned. For a few hours at least. Everything Billy was
saying came back to something Muriel did. Her mother had
caused all of this.
‘So, let me get this right. My mother—’ Anna shot Muriel a piercing glance ‘—knew the vicar was the one abusing Eliza, yet
did nothing apart from rope him in to help her blame Billy?
Just to get what she wanted?’ Anna glared at her mother. ‘How
bloody could you? You went on about keeping the kids of the
village safe, then knowingly allowed a predator to remain in his
position of trust—’
‘No, no,’ Muriel said, shaking her head. ‘I didn’t know for
sure, and to begin with I thought his odd behaviour was because
he was covering up for Billy – trying to play the good vicar who
gave everyone a chance, not willing to rock the boat by making
such an accusation. But then there were a few occasions when
he caused me to question how he was with Eliza. For a long while I really did believe Billy was abusing Eliza. And when Robert had his incident in the bungalow, Nell thought Billy must’ve done
something to him, too, and that added fuel to the flames. I put
Reverend Farnley to the back of my mind for a little while.’
‘Until you needed him, you mean? Then you approached him
with your suspicions and gave him a get-out clause by black-
mailing him to help you pin it on Billy, or you’d tell everyone
what he was,’ Anna said.
‘Look, once Billy was in prison, I made sure Reverend Farnley
left. I made it clear he wasn’t welcome in Mapledon anymore.
He was run out, rest assured.’
‘Rest assured? Really? God, Mum. Great, so you made
sure
he left this village, but in doing so pushed him and his paedo-
philic tendencies onto another unsuspecting community?
Good job.’
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Muriel crossed her arms firmly. ‘Actually, after everything that happened, he had a breakdown, became reclusive – he
wouldn’t have been a harm to any other children.’ Muriel
sounded almost triumphant. Anna felt sick to her stomach.
If she hadn’t taken her mother’s call on Friday, if she hadn’t
left Carrie and travelled to fucking Mapledon, she could’ve
carried on not knowing. She’d lived without these truths for
most of her life, she was sure she could’ve continued happily in
her blissful ignorance.
But what about Jonie Hayes?
Didn’t she deserve to be found? By denying the truth, Anna
was denying her friend. Anna couldn’t look at Muriel any longer.
She turned her back and faced Billy.
‘If you aren’t back for revenge, why get Tina to play the stupid
Knock, Knock game?’ Anna asked.
‘He didn’t,’ Tina said. ‘I’d spoken to Billy about everything
that had gone on. We’d had long discussions on the phone,
written letters. I even visited a few times. I was very aware of
the pain he’d gone through. Obviously I was in pain too. Have
been since that day. It was me who felt the need for retribution.
I wanted those who were involved to be punished in some way.
I came up with the idea, and I convinced Billy to help by making
sure I had the right “material”. Lizzie had nothing at all to do
with any of it, before you start too, Nell. She didn’t come here
for a story to sell to the papers. She came here for her story. To find out the truth about her childhood.
‘I think we’ve all found out some truths now. But, Muriel?’
Tina raised her chin in Muriel’s direction. ‘No matter the whys
and wherefores, and with no other agenda apart from closure,
I still have to know where my Jonie is. And you have to tell me.’
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Chapter Ninety-Six
1989
Outskirts of Mapledon
Thursday 20th July – the day after, 2.30 a.m.
Eric had waited until the streetlights went out. Waited until he
thought Mapledon’s inhabitants would be sleeping soundly. All
apart from one, anyway. He faced that man now and shuddered.
Reverend Farnley stared at him, making him feel as though he
were looking right inside his soul.
But he didn’t, or couldn’t, judge.
Muriel had assured Eric he could trust him to help. She’d
told him why she was so sure. That this man was guilty of his own crimes.
Reverend Farnley got inside the car and Eric slowly drove out
of Mapledon. He headed towards the vast moorland on the
south side of the village. A great enough distance from the village to feel confident police resources wouldn’t stretch that far. And in an even more remote area of the moors than those popular
with walkers. Eric had heard about bodies being buried on
moorland – bodies of people never found. Adults, children, lost
to the earth. He had to hope this burial would also remain
undetected. Forever.
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It was a sight he couldn’t have imagined in his worst nightmares. The limp body of a child being thrown into the ground
by two men. A father and a Reverend. Eric looked to the
heavens.
Shit. Please don’t let there be a God. Don’t let anyone know
what I’ve done.
It had taken several hours to complete the task and it’d been
achieved in virtual silence. The same as the drive back to
Mapledon; Eric had nothing to say to Christopher Farnley. How
could a man of God be inappropriate with a child? He wanted
to say something. He desperately wanted to spit at him, tell him
how vile he was. Hit him.
But how could he now? After all this?
He knew why Muriel had asked for his help. Eric couldn’t
have done it alone. No other villager – however much they
supported Muriel and her cause – would’ve covered this up to
the point of burying a child. Only someone as guilty as him.
Someone else who needed to keep secrets for their own
survival.
God. The villagers had been afraid of what Billy Cawley might do to their kids, when all along it was their beloved vicar who’d been the one they should’ve feared.
And now, he could add himself to the list of people Mapledon
should rid itself of. And he knew Muriel wouldn’t stop until
each on the list was gone, in one way or another.
As he stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed next to
the warmth of his wife, Eric cried. He’d had secrets in the past
– didn’t everyone? But this was more than a secret. The impli-
cations of it were huge. To keep this quiet, stop the truth from
coming out, he’d have to leave. There was no way he’d be able
to face people every day knowing what he’d done.
How could he ever look his daughter in the eye again?
He pushed his body up close to Muriel’s, sliding his hands
over her waist, pulling her close.
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‘It’s done,’ he whispered in her ear.
She stirred. ‘That part is. There’s still a long way to go, Eric.’
He turned over, flicking the lamp switch. The light left the
room.
Left him.
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Chapter Ninety-Seven
2019
Lizzie
Friday 19th July
When Billy had mentioned Reverend Farnley, there’d been a
moment when Lizzie thought the gathered group wouldn’t
believe it. Not a Reverend. Not the man who’d preached to his
flock all about God. The man who’d seemed to care about his
parishioners and had gone out of his way to encourage Billy to
let his daughter attend Sunday school. Maybe his intention had
always been to groom her – she was the perfect victim. Lizzie
wondered if she’d been the only one. As much as she hoped it
were the case, she had a bad feeling she wouldn’t have been the
first, or even the last, to suffer at the vicar’s hands. Had the old man really lost his mind, or was that self-preservation too?
It’d come as a shock when Lizzie had been in the caravan
with Billy and he’d told her about that, and how he suspected
Muriel was covering for the Reverend and Eric. But Billy was convinced and his reasoning seemed sound. Having gone over
and over the events, taking in what he remembered from the
witness statements and reading the newspaper articles, together
with Tina’s and Pat’s versions, it’d been the only logical expla-
nation. With so much time to ruminate and go over every detail,
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Billy had worked through a number of theories, but this one stuck, and it was the version of events that made the most sense
to him: Eric was responsible for Jonie’s death and Reverend
Farnley had helped dispose of her body. Billy reckoned Muriel
knew he’d been up to no good and used it as leverage – in effect
blackmailing him to help her cover up what Eric had done. Billy
remembered how Eliza had acted after every Sunday school
session, and once Billy’s ex-cell mate had fed back the informa-
tion he’d found out about the Reverend’s rapid exit from
Mapledon and his subsequent breakdown, he’d been convinced
the Reverend had been the one abusing Eliza, so would’ve been
the perfect person for Muriel to go to.
Lizzie knew some of what she and Billy were telling the group
of villagers was just supposition – a series of hypotheses her
father had spent years formulating. But watching them all – their reactions – she had to concede he was probably right. No one
seemed to be questioning it to the point she believed they would
if none of it were true. There really was no planned revenge,
though. As much as those standing nervously in the lounge
clearly thought it was Billy’s intention, they were wrong. Billy
had said he wouldn’t want them to ever be able to turn around
and say, ‘See, we were right about that weirdo Billy Cawley – did you hear how he exacted revenge on Muriel and Eric Fisher?’
No. He only wanted to hear them say they were wrong. They
were sorry. And he wanted to help Tina – that’s what he’d reit-
erated to Lizzie time and time again while they’d been sitting
talking.
Lizzie had felt a surge of empathy for her birth father as she
listened to how his sorry life had gone from bad to worse. How
he’d been made the scapegoat for a horrendous crime. After a
lifetime of thinking the worst of Billy Cawley, of believing the
stories, gossip and half-truths, she found herself warming to
this man, who by all accounts had sacrificed his freedom all the
while knowing he’d been wronged along with Jonie Hayes. When
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Billy spoke of Tina it was with such warmth. He’d told Lizzie how he’d always had feelings for Tina, even when he hadn’t
been able to communicate them effectively, and by the time he
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