finally fill the empty grave she’d tended to during that time.
The tears spilling down her face now were ones of relief. She’d
spent all the tears for grief over the years. Finally, she was able to say goodbye.
Only a handful of people joined Tina and Pat to pay their
respects, sitting quietly and very still, in the first pew. Tina had let her thoughts be known prior to the service: the villagers of
Mapledon were not welcome. It was family and honest friends only. Billy Cawley wasn’t there either. As much as Tina would’ve
liked him to be, she knew he wouldn’t be allowed within ten miles.
She’d spoken to him several times after he’d found Jonie’s
bones. He took the blame, as he said he would. After Eric had
shown him the site where he and Reverend Farnley had buried
her, Billy had contacted the police. Told them since he’d been
released he’d been determined to remember where the body of
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little Jonie Hayes was, telling them he’d visited the area and recalled the location and wanted to do the right thing.
He’d known there’d be refreshed media interest, but Lizzie
had helped out there – she’d arranged an exclusive interview
with the ‘man who’d murdered Jonie Hayes’, making sure she
only revealed what was necessary and rounding off the article
with how William Cawley had been released on parole from his
thirty-year prison sentence having proven he was capable of
change; his risk to the public had been reduced by successfully
completing the required rehabilitation programmes. She’d reit-
erated he’d remain on parole until his death and that he was
now attempting to rebuild what life he had left.
Lizzie had been surprised that Billy had refused to apply to the
high court to gain a new identity, preferring to stay as William
Cawley despite the possible repercussions. He was, however,
keeping a low profile, remaining in the caravan on the farmer’s
land. Lizzie had the real story, the one recorded on her phone that night; she’d kept it just in case. There were two separate audio files: the one from the bungalow, and then the one she’d instinc-tively began recording when she’d stepped into the Fishers’ house later the same evening. It was that one she’d copied to a USB.
Billy’d left a note for Tina. Given her an open invitation to
visit him sometime if she wanted. Tina knew she’d take him up
on it. It was the least he deserved. He’d performed a selfless act for which Tina would never be able to fully repay him. Certainly
one the Fishers couldn’t.
Even though Billy couldn’t attend, Lizzie had. She and Dom
had travelled down especially and were staying at Bulleigh Barton B&B again.
‘Thank you for coming,’ Tina said as they walked to the grave
in the churchyard, to Jonie’s final resting place.
Lizzie smiled. ‘Thank you for asking us.’
After the coffin was lowered and handfuls of earth were scattered over the shiny white lid, they began walking back to the gate.
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‘It’s lovely to see you and Dom looking so happy,’ Tina said.
‘I’m glad some good came from this.’
‘So are we. It’s been a long journey. I’m relieved it’s over,’
Lizzie said. ‘Sorry,’ she said quickly, ‘I didn’t mean . . . that was so insensitive.’
‘It’s fine, Lizzie. Please don’t. No need to walk on eggshells.
This is closure for me.’ She smiled, patting Lizzie’s arm. But Lizzie caught the slight twitch of Tina’s mouth as she uttered those
words, saw the flicker in her eyes. Was this closure really enough?
‘Thank you. We’re actually talking about starting a family.’
Lizzie looked up to Dom.
‘Oh, that’s fantastic!’ Tina said.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Dom beamed.
‘And what about you and Billy? Are you going to keep in
contact?’ Tina said.
‘Yes, that’s the plan. I want to keep an eye on him, check in
regularly to make sure he’s coping with life on the outside,’ Lizzie said. She didn’t add how she also wanted to make sure he didn’t
do anything that could land him back in prison. They’d had a
heart-to-heart about Reverend Farnley after the revelations he’d
been the one to abuse her as a child – and Lizzie got the distinct impression Billy didn’t think the man had suffered enough.
They reached the gate, and for a moment they stood in silence.
‘Come back and see us sometime?’ Tina said. Her eyes glis-
tened with tears.
‘Of course.’
They hugged, and Lizzie took the opportunity to slip the
small USB stick inside Tina’s pocket before they each went their
separate ways.
The church bells had stopped ringing.
‘It’s over,’ Muriel said.
‘Is it?’ Anna drained the last of the coffee from her mug and
placed it into the sink.
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‘Thank you for coming here today, Anna. I couldn’t bear to be alone, knowing what was going on just up the road.’
‘No, it’s not the easiest of days, is it?’ Anna said. ‘But it’s
closure. For some, anyway.’
Muriel nodded, then said brightly: ‘Your dad sends his love,
by the way. He was here yesterday, popped in before he left for
home.’
‘Where is home for him now?’
‘Some place in Somerset. He’s been living there for years.’
‘I thought you said he’d gone to Scotland?’
‘He did. Back when all this first happened. But he couldn’t
stick the weather. Played havoc with his arthritis.’
‘Oh, right. He’s not going to come back here now? Seeing as
the truth is out, surely he could?’
‘No. Too much water under the bridge for that, love.’
Anna made a move towards the door. She wanted to head
back home. Carrie had been beside herself worrying she’d be
gone for longer than the promised day. Not surprisingly, she
didn’t trust Anna after she’d left her for almost two weeks in
July. Since leaving Mapledon after the evening when it was
revealed she’d killed Jonie, Anna was taking time to adjust to
her newly acquired knowledge. Bit by bit she’d remembered that
awful Wednesday afternoon, snippets of it coming to her in slow
motion, like action scenes from a film.
She hoped one day she could forgive herself, but she didn’t
hold out much hope of that. The most she could manage was
to live a good life now; be a good mum. She owed that to her
dad. Eric had done what he did because he thought it was the
only way to protect her. The only way he could ensure she lived
a happy life. Whether she’d deserved that opportunity instead
of Billy Cawley was a question she asked herself daily.
‘Come back with me, Mum. Leave Mapledon – live with me
and Carrie,’ she said as she reached the front door.
‘I’d never survive outside of this tiny village, Anna. It’s my
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home. Where I belong.’ Muriel opened the door, and Anna noted her quick, sideways glance to check there was nothing
hammered to it. ‘Mapledon looks after its own, love,’ she said.
‘Does it?’ Anna said, kissing her mum on the cheek. ‘Do you
think Tina would echo that sentiment?’
Anna didn’t wait for a response. She knew there wasn’t one.
Driving up the hill, Anna looked in her rear-view mirror,
watching her mother waving on the doorstep until she dropped
out of sight. As she drove past a parked car, it pulled abruptly
away from the kerb. She squinted, checking the mirror to see
who the driver was. It appeared to be a woman, but she couldn’t
make out who. Anna didn’t think much of it as the car followed
a short distance behind her.
She turned onto the main road leading out of Mapledon.
Leaving the village and hopefully its ghosts behind her.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks to my amazing agent, Anne – you are truly the best,
and to Kate Hordern, Rosie and Jessica Buckman for your hard
work and continued support. I’m so proud to be with KHLA.
Huge thanks to my fabulous editor, Katie – you go above and
beyond and I’m very grateful for your enthusiasm and excellent
editing skills. You are an absolute joy to work with. My thanks
also to the rest of the dynamic ‘Team Avon’ – I thoroughly enjoy
working with you all and thank you for continuing to publish
my books.
As ever, I’m thankful for the unwavering support from my
family and friends. Thank you to Doug, Danika, Louis and
Nathaniel for being my inspiration and strength. My thanks also
to Josh – you’re all I could hope for in a son-in-law (well, you
might be in about ten years…) and I am so thrilled you and
Danika made me a Grammy! Isaac is utterly gorgeous, and I
cannot wait to read him stories (not mine, obviously). And to
Emily – thanks for making Louis happy and for being super
supportive by reading all my books. My thanks, as ever, to my sister Celia, Pete and my wider family for their continued support and for coming to my talks and book signings – you are all
fabulous. There’ll always be two special people missing from
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these events and celebrations: my wonderful Mum and Dad – I miss you both. But I know you’d have been proud of your ‘clever’
daughter.
I loved writing I Dare You – I felt it stretched me as a writer and there were some interesting challenges along the way.
Massive thanks to my talented friend Lydia Devadason who
helped iron out the first draft with her fabulous eye for detail.
My thanks also to San and J, Tracey, Tara, Libby, Carolyn and
Caroline – it means a lot to know I have good friends who I
can turn to when things get tough.
Special thanks to Jon Meek from Waterstones, Newton Abbot,
for his amazing support and for championing my books at my
local store. I’m so grateful for your enthusiasm and for all your help with arranging signings and launches!
Thank you to those who help spread the book love – bloggers
and reviewers do an awesome job and are always happy to
support writers. I’ve been lucky enough to have lots of top
bloggers shout about my books – I appreciate your hard work.
There are many other people who are important to me and
during the writing of this book will have helped in some way.
If I haven’t named you, it doesn’t mean you don’t matter. If I’m
also important to you, you’ll know how thankful I am anyway.
Ultimately, getting my books into the hands of readers is the
goal, and every time a reader tells me they’ve read and enjoyed
one of my books I know it’s all been worthwhile.
This is for my readers – I hope you enjoy my twisted
offering . . . I Dare You.
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Your daughter is in danger.
But can you trust her?
Available now in paperback and ebook.
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If you play with fire . . .
. . . You’re going to get burned.
Available now in paperback and ebook.
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‘My name is Alice.
And my son is a murderer.’
They call it mother’s intuition, but can
you ever really know your own child?
Available now in paperback and ebook.
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You think you know those closest to you.
You are wrong…
Available now in paperback and ebook.
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I Dare You (ARC) Page 39