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‘It wasn’t a request. You have to get out of this house. We need to find out what the word is in Mapledon about bloody
Billy Cawley and I can’t do it alone. You’re the one people know
in this village. You’re the one people talk to and confide in. If anyone can find out what’s going on, it’s you.’
‘Well, thank you for the glowing appraisal; however, things
have changed. It’s not how you remember it, Anna. I’m not the
person you remember, either.’ A sadness swept across Muriel’s
face.
The statement unnerved Anna. She’d tended to assume
everything in the village had remained how it was at the time
she’d left. That her mother was the same as the day she left her
behind. But her visit had shed an uncertain light on Muriel’s
health and well-being, and now Anna wondered what other
differences there were – ones she hadn’t had the opportunity to
find out about yet. The fact her mother and Auntie Tina were
no longer best friends was shocking enough, but what if the
other villagers had turned against Muriel too? Anna had to
prepare for the possibility.
Anna brushed away Muriel’s words with a hand. ‘Nonsense.
Right, shall we walk? It seems a shame to waste this lovely
sunshine, and as you’ve been cooped up here for days, I think
you could do with a hefty exposure of vitamin D.’ Anna rose
from the sofa and smiled encouragingly at her mum. Muriel
didn’t look at all convinced. ‘Mum?’
‘I’m scared, Anna.’ Muriel wrung her hands together. ‘What
if we see him?’
Anna took a moment to consider it. ‘Then we’ll know better
what we’re dealing with.’
Muriel visibly inhaled and then stood. ‘As long as you’re by
my side, I guess he can’t do anything.’
‘Mum, he could be wheelchair-bound for all we know. You
could be worrying over nothing – we have no idea what effect
all those years in prison may have had on him or his health.’
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‘Yes, maybe you’re right – it must’ve taken its toll on him. I have to face this fear head on, not hide away from it.’
‘Exactly. It’s not like you to shy away from anything. You
always fought for what you believed in; you were always strong.
No reason why you shouldn’t be that person now.’
Muriel put her arm around Anna. ‘Thank you, my darling
girl. I know I didn’t often tell you, but you were everything to
me. You still are. I may not have made the right choices, or good decisions, as you were growing up. But what I did, I did because
I loved you and wanted to protect you. You know that, don’t
you?’
‘Of course, Mum. Of course.’ Anna ignored the niggling
sensation creeping up the back of her neck, and with her mum
in tow, left the house to walk to the village hall.
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Chapter Thirty-Eight
2019
Lizzie
Lizzie woke up early, the sun streaming through the gap in the
curtains the likely cause. She got up, filled the basin in the
bathroom, and swilled cold water over her face. An attempt to
wash the guilt away: she’d gone too far yesterday. She smacked
the palms of her hands against the white china of the sink.
‘Stupid, dumb-ass move that was, Lizzie!’ she told her reflection.
It could’ve been worse.
That was the phrase she’d repeated to herself since she’d left
Rob outside his house. It was a kiss, nothing more. It wasn’t a
snog. It wasn’t sex. But her conscience knew. It was physical
contact and it was not with her husband. Therefore, it was
wrong. She couldn’t even blame alcohol. She’d stuck to just the
one G&T, drinking Diet Coke after that. She’d overstepped the line, even if it had only been meant as a ‘thank you’ kiss. That
type of kiss would usually be a peck delivered to the cheek, not
a lingering one smack-bang on the lips. She’d broken the trust.
Marriage is based on trust; secrecy is the enemy, she heard Dom’s voice saying.
And having committed this act of betrayal, what exactly had
she gained?
It was only a kiss.
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But she doubted Dom would see it that way. Did Rob?
She was playing with fire and wasn’t even sure to what end.
Rob had opened up a little about what he thought Billy Cawley
had done and why, but an internet search would’ve told her
that. She had found out about the Monday tea and cake morning
– but she knew that piece of information was probably in the
shop window. Spending an entire evening in the pub with a
man she’d met once was not really required to gain it. Also,
because of her lie about being Muriel’s niece, she wasn’t sure
rocking up to the village hall for cake would be the brightest of moves. Having said that, maybe Rob wouldn’t have time to
mention to customers that he’d met Muriel’s niece, and as he
wouldn’t be at the village hall, she might be able to go and
mingle and not be called out.
Given she had very little else to go on, Lizzie made the deci-
sion to sort herself out and drive to the hall. She never could
say no to cake.
The village hall was opposite the church and there was a small
car park off it. Lizzie sat in the car for a while, watching as a few old people slowly, painfully, entered the building. She was
going to stick out like a sore thumb. Even more than at the pub
last night. She hoped she didn’t spot anyone who’d been in the
bar. What if they’d seen her kiss Rob? She pulled her fingers
through her hair. ‘Don’t think about it,’ she said out loud. After giving herself a quick glance in the visor mirror, Lizzie jumped
out of the car before she could change her mind.
There were half a dozen or so rectangular tables dotted around
the hall with sturdy metal chairs covered in orange-coloured
cushioned fabric arranged at them. A hatch linked the main
room and the kitchen where a few ladies were arranging plates
of buns, muffins and slices of cake. The laminated sign informed
Lizzie each item was two pounds, a cup of tea or coffee one.
Juice with a biscuit was twenty pence. Lizzie looked around
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briefly; there were no children there, but presumably some were expected.
‘Hello. Can I help?’ a woman, rounded like a barrel, asked
her curtly.
‘Oh, hi. Yes, I’d like a coffee please,’ Lizzie said, then when
the woman’s stare didn’t waver, made a big deal of perusing the
cakes on offer, adding: ‘And that yummy-looking lemon drizzle
cake. Did you make that? It looks delicious.’ Lizzie smiled as
widely as she could manage.
‘Erm . . . yes, actually, I did. Thank you.’ The barrel woman
blushed. Lizzie had pushed her off-track
. Amazing how a well-
placed compliment could massage someone’s ego enough to
force them to be nice. Lizzie could tell the woman was itching
to ask who the hell she was, though. But she’d make her wait.
She needed to suss out who people were first, make sure she
didn’t drop Muriel’s name before she even knew what she looked
like, or if she was there in the hall.
‘Thank you so much. I’ll enjoy this, I feel sure. I might be
up for a second slice in a moment.’ Lizzie grinned again before
paying and finding a seat. She chose the table on the far side so she would have time to see people walking in and make a quick
appraisal. She also needed time to perfect her ‘pitch’.
As she took a bite of the cake, which was every bit as good
as it looked, Lizzie’s heart leapt. She sat forward, cake crumbs
falling into her lap. She couldn’t believe it – Anna, the woman
she’d met the other day had just walked into the hall. She was
with a delicate-looking older woman – the elderly mother she’d
spoken of? Lizzie’s arm was raised before she’d consciously
decided to do it, and she waved Anna over.
‘Hi, Anna. Thanks so much for your B&B recommendation –
it’s fantastic,’ Lizzie said enthusiastically. ‘This must be your mum . . .’ She trailed off, in the hope Anna would introduce
them.
But instead, she simply said, ‘Yes, it is.’ Then politely added,
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‘I’m so glad you found the accommodation to your satisfaction.’
The whole episode seemed fake and falsely bright, which in turn
caused a bead of sweat to run down Lizzie’s spine. Had Anna
found out who she was? The real reason she was in Mapledon?
She certainly seemed standoffish now, compared to their first
meeting.
‘Would you sit with me? I feel like Billy-no-mates here.’ Lizzie
smarted, immediately regretting her turn of phrase. Bloody hell
– how stupid. She rushed into further conversation, hoping to
brush over her faux pas. ‘The cakes are amazing – I miss this
kind of thing. No one has these types of coffee mornings in
Abbingsworth.’
‘No?’ Anna was distracted, her gaze bobbing around the
room rather than focusing on Lizzie. Lizzie directed her next
comment at Anna’s mother, whose attention had also been
elsewhere since they’d approached the table. ‘Do you bake . . .
Mrs . . . er . . .’
The woman faced her; their eyes locked. They seemed to
penetrate Lizzie’s, looking deep within her. Lizzie gave an involuntary shudder, a strange sensation sweeping through her.
‘It’s Mrs Fisher,’ Anna’s mother said. Her voice was weak, a
whisper of air. She didn’t take her eyes from Lizzie’s. Anna
seemed not to notice. ‘Don’t you remember me?’
The question threw Lizzie completely. She sat back, shock
preventing any words from forming. How, after thirty years, had
there been any recognition?
‘Mum, are you going to sit down? Mum?’ Anna pulled a chair
around and tried to get her mother to sit down. ‘Hello? Earth
to mother!’ Anna’s voice became irritated. She looked across
the table at Lizzie and leant in closer. ‘See what I mean?’ she
said quietly, shaking her head. Lizzie felt her whole body relax.
Mrs Fisher probably didn’t remember her at all, which was why
she’d asked Lizzie if she remembered her. It wasn’t because she’d recognised Lizzie from when she was a child.
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‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she whispered back. ‘Yes, you did say you were worried about her . . . er . . . health, didn’t you?’
‘I am here, you know, no need to talk over me.’ Mrs Fisher
pushed the chair back in under the table. ‘I am not losing my
marbles. I just don’t want to sit here, thank you.’
‘Oh, okay, Mum. No problem, we’ll grab a different table.’
She guided Mrs Fisher away from Lizzie, mouthing an apology
over her shoulder. Lizzie found herself glad they’d gone. Mrs Fisher. Muriel Fisher, the name Lizzie had given as her auntie.
Which made Anna her daughter.
But Rob had told her that Muriel’s daughter was called Bella.
The memory of their first meeting at the church gate shot
into her mind, the words Anna said when she introduced herself:
‘I’m Anna. I’m the one that got away.’
Bloody hell. Anna was Bella. So, Lizzie wasn’t the only one hiding her real identity. There was definitely more to Anna’s
story than she’d first thought.
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Chapter Thirty-Nine
1989
Blackstone Close
Tuesday 27th June – 22 days before
‘Why aren’t you at school today, Eliza?’ Muriel asked. She’d
stopped by Billy Cawley’s driveway, to the side of his red truck, not daring to step inside the boundary – she didn’t want him
to see her if she could get away with it. Not before she’d been
able to talk with his little girl, anyway. It was a risky move; even being there was. But she was willing to take the chance on this
occasion. Someone had to. There were too many warning signals to ignore. It was wrong to stand by, do nothing. Her conscience
couldn’t take it, and she felt sure the others would agree. She
hadn’t told them she was going to approach Eliza – she didn’t
need their permission.
Muriel didn’t need their permission to keep the children of Mapledon safe. But she might need their help.
Eliza turned her face towards Muriel. Her breath caught.
There was a distinct yellowing mark on Eliza’s temple. A fading
bruise. It confirmed Muriel’s suspicion.
‘Are you poorly?’ Muriel tried again. She crouched down and
smiled. Eliza knew Muriel from Sunday school, she wasn’t a
stranger – so hopefully she could coax her to talk.
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‘You don’t look poorly.’
‘Daddy said I’m sick,’ Eliza said.
‘Did he? Oh, well, if Daddy thinks you should stay off school,
then I guess he must be right.’
Eliza gave a half-smile and continued to pull her doll apart.
‘Don’t you like that dolly, Eliza?’
Eliza looked up, a puzzled expression on her dirty face. ‘Of
course I like her. She’s just like me.’ She held the dismembered
torso of the plastic doll up for Muriel to see.
‘Oh. I’m not sure I understand. Why is she like you, Eliza?’
Muriel thought she saw the flutter of the curtain in the front
room of the bungalow, and her heart gave a jolt. If Billy had
seen or heard her, she’d best be quick and get out of there. It
wasn’t like she could say she happened to be passing, not when
his bungalow was the last in the cul-de-sac – she had no reason
to be there.
‘Because she hurts too,’ Eliza said simply as she let the body
drop. Then, Eliza looked back down to the gr
ound and picked
up the head. Muriel watched in stunned silence as Eliza shoved
a broken arm inside the head’s cavity, her lips stretched into a
huge smile as she did it. Something about the scene was so
bizarre, so disturbing, that Muriel wanted to run away from it.
This child was damaged.
And there was only one explanation as far as Muriel was
concerned.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to Eliza anymore. Maybe
she’d got what she came for. As Muriel straightened and prepared
to walk away, Eliza stood up. Her dress was filthy with dried
mud from the ground. But a splash of red stopped Muriel in
her tracks.
‘Oh, sweetie – are you bleeding?’
Eliza looked down at the red stain on her dress and smiled.
‘Oh, no. That’s not my blood.’
Muriel’s mouth opened and closed, no words escaping it.
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‘What the hell are you doing?’ a voice bellowed, loud and angry.
Muriel gave an involuntary shriek – it’d taken her totally by
surprise. She’d been too preoccupied to notice Billy coming
outside.
‘Sorry,’ she rasped. ‘I was only asking Eliza—’
‘I suggest you bugger off! Nosy cow.’ He spat at the ground
in front of Muriel before sweeping one hand around Eliza’s
middle and lifting her up. With her squashed under his arm like
a rugby ball, he strode back inside his house, her cries of ‘No,
Daddy, no!’ fading as he went.
Muriel’s legs shook. Hot tears tracked down her face. For a
moment she stood, frozen to the spot, her brain refusing to send
the correct signals to her limbs.
Billy Cawley was every bit the monster they’d believed him
to be.
She had a lot to tell them at the Mapledon Meeting on
Thursday. If she could hold off for two days.
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Chapter Forty
2019
Anna
Monday 15th July
After the awkward moment between her mother and Lizzie,
Anna hoped there’d be no further episodes with anyone else at
the coffee and cake morning.
‘You feeling okay, Mum?’ Anna didn’t know if it was being
out of the house, or being at the hall itself, but her mother
appeared very stressed and, right now, almost vacant – staring