her mother talking about – why would her dad get into trouble?
She shrugged.
‘I mean it, Bella. This is serious; we can’t have people thinking your dad was with Billy.’ Her eyes were wide. ‘ Creepy Cawley,’
she added, as if Bella wouldn’t know who she meant.
‘Why was he with him?’ Bella couldn’t stop the question from escaping.
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‘He wasn’t. Not really. Look, enough now. Your dad wasn’t there, remember?’
Bella felt so confused she just wanted her mother to stop
speaking. She shook her head. ‘Fine. Dad wasn’t there.’
Her mother released her grip from Bella’s upper arms and
Bella took a step back. Muriel stood up straight, her face relaxing.
Bella, relieved at obviously having said the right thing, took the opportunity to bolt out the door. She ran most of the way to
the park, eager to put as much distance between herself and her
mother as possible.
What was going on?
Whatever it was, she’d do as she was told and not utter a
word about it again. The last thing she wanted was to get her
dad into any kind of trouble.
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Chapter Sixty-Seven
2019
Anna
Tuesday 16th July
Anna gazed silently at Tina’s house; the last time she’d set foot inside was with Jonie, thirty years ago. She pushed her shoulders back and opened the rickety wooden gate leading to the front
door. The house was one of three in the small terraced area just
off the main road, each having joint access to the back gardens,
the paths running the full length of the row. It’d been one of
the fun aspects of going to Jonie’s – they often played hide-and-
seek in the neighbour’s gardens without their knowledge, or
permission.
Anna paused at the door, hand poised to knock. The likeli-
hood of Pat Vern being there on his own was slim, and she
wasn’t keen to face Tina again. Particularly as she wanted to
grill Pat about Jonie’s disappearance. It would be less awkward
if she approached Pat on more common ground, like at The
Plough, if he still drank there. It would be easy to find out. She backed away, but as she reached the gate she heard the door
being opened.
‘Can I help?’ a gravelly voice asked. At least Pat had answered
and not Tina. Anna smiled as she turned to face him.
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‘Hi, Mr Vern.’
He stood still, a puzzled look momentarily covering his face.
Then his frown transformed into realisation, and he inhaled
deeply. ‘Bella? Is that you?’
‘Guilty as charged,’ Anna said, her attempt at humour falling
flat.
‘Now what do you want? Haven’t you upset Tina enough?’
‘I didn’t realise I had upset her.’ Anna flushed, knowing full
well she had. ‘I’m sorry. Look, I was only dropping by to speak
with you, but if I’m going to cause grief, I’ll leave. As I was
about to anyway.’ She walked through the gate and turned to
close it.
Anna saw Pat look back over his shoulder into the darkness
of the hall, then he stepped outside, pulling the door to. ‘Well, she is upset, whether that’s what you intended or not. But if you want to talk, it’s best we meet elsewhere. I’ll be at the pub in twenty.’ And before Anna could speak again, he’d turned and
disappeared inside.
Anna gave a wry shake of her head as she seated herself near
the door inside The Plough. All these years later and it was still very much the man’s domain if the current punters were
anything to go by. Her presence there had already garnered some
curious glances.
Mapledon – the village that time forgot.
Thank God she’d escaped. She couldn’t begin to imagine
what living here was like – it set the women’s movement back
Had her age group all taken the opportunity to leave the second
they were able to? The population did seem to be mainly above
the age of fifty.
With her back to the wall, Anna sipped her Pinot Grigio, the
fruity flavour hitting her taste buds. It felt like weeks since she’d had a nice wine. Her mother’s ‘drinks cabinet’ – the ancient one
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she’d had since the Seventies, which still housed the plastic Babycham Deer bar sign – contained only sherry, and a single
bottle of wine that had clearly been opened years ago and was
now cloudy and smelt of vinegar.
Her mother hadn’t been enamoured with Anna’s decision to
go out – leaving her, if only for a few hours, was risky as far as she was concerned. Anna could understand her fear, but didn’t
offer to take her along, not even letting on that it was Pat she’d arranged to meet. She felt she’d be too much of a hindrance to
get to the truth. Anna knew she’d be better off without Muriel
playing sidekick – Pat would be more willing to talk freely. Or
that was the hope. Anna had made sure Sandie was aware Muriel
was alone; her kind neighbour would keep an ear out and her
mother had been somewhat reassured by that.
Anna was halfway through her glass of wine, and almost ready
to knock the rest of it back in one, give up and go home, when
Pat finally put in an appearance. In the dull light of the pub,
he appeared dishevelled, tired. It seemed Billy Cawley’s release
had taken its toll on many of them.
‘Hey, Pat. Thanks for coming, what can I get you?’ Anna
stood up, ready to go to the bar.
‘Nothing. We can’t talk here, come on.’ And he was out the
door again as quickly as he’d entered. Anna reached for her glass and gulped down her remaining wine – no point wasting good
alcohol.
The air outside had cooled, but Anna didn’t need the cotton
jacket she’d brought on her mother’s insistence ‘just in case’ – it was still a bearable level for a summer’s evening. She slung it
over her arm and hurried to catch up with Pat, who was marching
on up the hill towards the church.
‘Slow down,’ she said, her breath coming quickly. ‘What’s the
rush?’
‘Don’t want anyone tittle-tattling, that’s all. Tina’s got enough on her plate.’
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‘Where are we going?’ Anna said as they took a left. Her heart missed a beat. Was he taking her to Blackstone Close?
‘Somewhere we won’t get bothered.’
Shit, he was taking her there. A nervous flutter filled her stomach. He seemed angry. Was it wise to follow him? She
fumbled in her handbag as she walked, closing her fingers around
her mobile phone. Regardless of the uneasy feeling she had, she
continued to follow him along the street, taking the turning into the cul-de-sac leading to Billy Cawley’s bungalow.
‘I don’t think we need to go there, though,’ An
na said.
It was pointless putting up an argument now; they were
directly outside the bungalow. It was even more eerie in the
dark, the only illumination coming from the streetlight halfway
down the road and the weak lighting shining from the windows
of the bungalow next door to it.
‘You were very keen on spending your time here as a kid.’
‘Kids haven’t learned to be afraid,’ she said simply.
‘Really? I heard enough squealing and saw enough kids
running away that said different.’
‘It’s not the same kind of fear, though, is it? Not the kind
that comes from experience, from learning the hard way that
people can be vicious and cruel. Evil.’
‘Kids can be all of those things too, though, remember.’
‘Oh, I didn’t say they couldn’t be, just that as kids the fears
aren’t entrenched, and kids don’t think about the consequences;
they don’t weigh up all the possible outcomes of an action like
adults do. Or most adults, anyway.’
‘Sounds like you’re speaking from experience now.’ He tilted
his chin, then looked her straight in the eye. ‘What do you
remember about that day, Bella?’ he asked softly.
‘It’s Anna,’ she said wearily. ‘The day she was taken you mean?
Not an awful lot, weirdly. You’d think it’d be engraved in my
mind, wouldn’t you? The thing is, I’m not sure I can separate
what I actually remember from then, with what I remember
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after the fact, or years later. Snippets of other people’s memories, of newspaper articles, news stories – they’re all jumbled up in
my head. Whose memory is whose?’
‘That’s what I thought.’
Anna narrowed her eyes. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning I don’t think you can accurately remember some-
thing that happened when you were ten – however traumatic
that event was. And in fact, I’d go as far as to hypothesise
that it was because it was traumatic that you can’t remember it well.’
‘Okay, so I don’t recall the events very well now, but at the
time – when I was ten and my friend was taken – I would’ve
been able to tell you exactly what happened. Accurately. It’s only now, years later, that things have become jumbled.’
‘Maybe.’ Pat shrugged. ‘Maybe not. Anyway, what did you
want to ask me?’
Anna pushed down her rising sense of annoyance. Who was
he to say what she could remember or not and why? Now wasn’t
the time to get into a debate about memory, though.
‘I wanted your version of what happened the day Jonie went
missing.’
‘I was at Bovey station dealing with a teenage tearaway who’d
taken his dad’s car for a joyride when I got the call.’ Pat sighed, staring off into the distance. ‘Tina was concerned that Jonie was late back home. I told her not to worry – she wouldn’t be far
away. Jesus. I can hear myself saying those words. Anyway, I left the station and drove back to Mapledon, assuming by the time
I reached Tina’s Jonie would already be home, and Mark
would’ve chastised her for her lateness. But obviously that wasn’t the case. It was about eight o’clock when the search party began
looking for her. Tina had said she’d called all of the parents of Jonie’s friends and none had seen her. Apart from you. But
Muriel had told Tina you’d got home at six. So that left a
two-hour gap to account for.’
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‘But I told you about her getting into Billy’s truck, you knew that. The police knew that.’
‘That wasn’t the day she went missing, Bel— sorry, Anna.
You and Muriel didn’t come into the station until the Friday,
about thirty-six hours after she was reported missing.’
‘That can’t be right, surely? It must’ve been the same day, or
maybe the day after if it was late . . .’ Anna placed her fingers on her temples, trying to remember.
‘No. It’s right. It was the reason I felt so anxious. And angry,
if I’m honest. Had we had the information straight away . . .’
Pat tailed off, his eyes sliding away from Anna’s.
‘Shit. If I’d given the information right away, you’d probably
have caught him before he killed her.’ A huge lump lodged in
Anna’s throat; tears stung her eyes.
‘You were just a kid – you probably didn’t realise the gravity
of the situation. You said yourself a minute ago, kids don’t really think of the consequences. You wouldn’t have necessarily
thought about the danger Jonie was in.’
It hit Anna then. She would’ve known. She must’ve. It was Billy Cawley – she’d been scared of him, frightened that he’d
somehow get them back for the Knock, Knock pranks. If she’d
seen Jonie getting into his truck, why hadn’t she said something
immediately?
‘I think I would’ve known the danger, Pat. Every kid was
scared of Billy – God, even some parents – I must’ve just been
terrified – in shock or something, surely?’
Pat looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a nod. ‘Yes,
actually, I do remember that’s what your mother said at the
station: that you’d been in shock and hadn’t spoken a word.
She said she’d had to coax it out of you slowly, and once you’d
told her, she’d immediately taken you to the station.’
That made more sense to Anna. She’d been a timid thing,
no doubt she’d have been traumatised by what she’d
witnessed. But, nonetheless, a sense of unease rocked her,
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sending a tingling cold sensation, like icicles, cascading down her spine.
Had she wanted Jonie to be in trouble with Billy? Could that also be a reason why she’d stayed silent until almost two days
later? To punish her?
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Chapter Sixty-Eight
2019
Lizzie
Tiredness came in waves over her. It’d been a long, stressful and emotionally charged day. All she wanted was to eat, shower and
sink into her large, soft bed. But Gwen’s opening statement as
she entered the reception brought those wishes crashing down.
‘You’ve got a visitor,’ she said with an exaggerated wink.
‘Really? Are you sure it’s for me?’ Lizzie’s voice sounded as
exasperated as she felt.
‘Oh, yes. He definitely belongs to you,’ she said brightly. ‘I
showed him into the lounge. I’ll bring you some tea.’ She disap-
peared, leaving Lizzie to plaster a smile on her face before
entering the door leading to the lounge.
‘Dom!’
Dom grinned as he bounded up to her, looking like an excited
puppy who’d not seen his master for a week. ‘Hey, beautiful. God, I’ve missed you,’ he said, squeezing the life from her and kissing her hard. She was part annoyed he’d turned up unannounced and
part relieved he seemed to be okay with her – their last conversation hadn’t been good and had ended abruptly, neg
atively.
‘I’ve missed you, too. You didn’t mention you were travelling
down, though.’
‘I thought I’d surprise you.’ His smile faltered.
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He’d certainly managed that. And although Lizzie was really pleased to see him, the timing wasn’t the best, and she was afraid of the real reason behind his shock visit. It wasn’t like him to
turn up whilst she was on a job; this must be because of what
he’d said. Because of what he’d found out. Lizzie was too tired
for this kind of confrontation.
‘Congratulations.’ She forced a smile. ‘You’ve definitely
succeeded!’
‘Yeah, well, try not to look too ecstatic.’
Thankfully, Gwen chose this time to bring in a tray of tea.
‘Here you go, my lovelies. Now, I assume you’ll both be wanting
some supper?’
Lizzie hesitated a moment too long. Dom jumped in, thanking
Gwen and accepting the offer of food.
‘That’s grand. I’ll come back shortly with the options.’
There was an uneasy silence once Gwen had left the room.
Lizzie had to break it, before it broke her.
‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?’ Lizzie sat down
in the wing-backed armchair, purposely avoiding the sofa.
‘You said you wanted to talk to me. That you had things to
tell me but wanted to do it face-to-face, so here I am.’ He
cautiously moved towards Lizzie, and knelt down in front of
her, taking her hands in his.
Lizzie’s muscles tensed; her hands felt clammy in his cool
ones. ‘It could’ve waited until my return.’
‘But I didn’t know when that would be. And to be honest, I
didn’t think it could wait.’ His face took on a worried look. ‘Not after I found this.’ He pulled one hand away, reaching it into
his pocket.
Lizzie knew what he’d have in his hand without needing to
look. Her pulse skipped. She was going to have to have this
conversation now whether it was good timing or not.
‘I’m sorry, Dom. Please forgive me?’ Tears welled, her lower
lip trembling.
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‘I just need to know what’s going on, Lizzie. You’re my wife
– we shouldn’t have secrets.’ Now removing his other hand, he
brushed away the tears on her cheeks with his fingertips.