elbow. ‘I saw . . .’
‘Take your time,’ the officer said. His wide eyes told her that
he didn’t mean it. He was leaning forward, waiting like an
20
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 20
23/09/2019 11:31
impatient child who wanted their Christmas gift, and wanted it now. She took a deep breath and said the words in her head first; she wanted to get them right. Then she spoke out loud. ‘I
saw him lift her up, into the truck. And then he got in too and
screeched off down the road – the one going out of Mapledon.
She . . . she shouldn’t have got in.’ The tears strangled her voice box and the words were high-pitched. ‘I don’t know why she
got in. I don’t know why she left me.’
21
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 21
23/09/2019 11:31
Chapter Seven
2019
Anna
Saturday 13th July
In keeping with the rest of the house, outside and in, Anna’s
old bedroom had also remained unchanged. It was as though
she’d stepped into a time warp and it unnerved her – especially
in the dark shadows her old Pierrot lamp cast. The ancient
springs in the single mattress did little to help: digging into her hip bones if she lay on her side; displacing her spine if she lay on her back. She hadn’t settled for hours. Now, as her body
refused to bounce youth-like from the bed, she thought it went
some way to explaining why her back was so prone to aches and
pains now, as an adult. How had she ever put up with this? The
floor would’ve given better comfort.
Not stopping to inspect any of her childhood belongings,
Anna stretched – her spine giving a loud, satisfying crack – and
gingerly made her way downstairs to the kitchen fridge. She
needed coffee. Her stomach contracted as she sniffed the milk.
She pulled the carton away from her nose with such force some
of the putrid contents spilled over.
‘Oh, my God!’ She went quickly to the sink and turned on
the tap. With her forearm pressed against her nostrils, she
22
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 22
23/09/2019 11:31
watched as the sour, lumpy liquid glugged down the plughole.
Looking at the now empty carton she noted the use-by date was
four days ago.
‘Mum, your milk is off!’ Anna shouted. She checked the fridge
for fresh milk, but there was none. There wasn’t much of
anything. She slammed the fridge door. No coffee to bring her
to life first thing was tantamount to hell and she’d never make
it through the day. The next hour even. Especially here.
‘Oh, sorry, love.’ Muriel came into the kitchen, her slippers
scuffing over the lino. ‘Forgot to get a new carton.’
‘Forgot? But it’s been out of date for days – haven’t you been
having cereal, or drinks?’
‘Oh, I just hadn’t got around to getting to the shop, been
using the tin of Marvel I had in the cupboard for cups of tea.’
‘You’ve been using powdered milk instead of getting fresh?
When did you last use Marvel? I didn’t even know they still
made it.’
‘Don’t be silly, dear, of course they do.’
Anna was half-tempted to check the cupboard, see if the tin
was also out of date, but was afraid she’d find that it was a
decade out, not just days.
‘I’ll take you up the shop, then.’
‘Oh, you don’t need me, do you? You remember where it
is, surely?’ Muriel slumped down onto the chair at the dining
table.
‘You all right, Mum? You don’t look like you’ve slept.’
‘I look like this every morning. You wouldn’t know, would
you?’
Anna let the comment slide; she couldn’t exactly argue other-
wise.
‘Do you want to make me a list?’ Anna offered. It occurred
to her that her mum might not be taking good enough care of
herself – or certainly not eating well, going by her gaunt appearance. Guilt tugged at her conscience; she’d always assumed
23
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 23
23/09/2019 11:31
Muriel was okay living alone in Mapledon – she’d kept it together well after Anna’s father upped and left when she was just eleven.
She was fit and healthy, had good friends. But Anna now
wondered if that was what she’d wanted to think. It was easier to believe than the alternative. Anything to avoid coming back
to this village.
‘Yes, that would be good, thank you.’ Muriel’s voice lifted;
her face brightened.
‘When did you go out last?’ Anna frowned. Her mother’s
reaction to her offer to go to the shop for her seemed far too
enthusiastic. The doll’s head on the door was only yesterday –
had other things been going on prior to that to cause her to
fear leaving the house?
Muriel waved an arm dismissively. ‘Oh, I can’t remember –
only a couple of days ago. Now, the notepad is in the top drawer
of the dresser, love.’ Muriel pointed towards the lounge.
‘Right,’ Anna said.
While in the drawer retrieving the notepad, Anna had a
rummage. She wasn’t sure what she was even looking for, but
she had a niggling feeling. It was filled with old utility bills –
thankfully none were red – and old letters. She picked up one
of the yellowing envelopes. Black scrawling handwriting covered
the front with little room left for the stamp. She squinted, trying to make out the postmark and date.
‘Got it?’ Muriel appeared in the doorway, her voice making
Anna jump. She dropped the letter back in the drawer and slid
it shut.
‘Yep. Got a pen?’ Anna straightened, hoping her mother hadn’t
spotted her nosing through the drawer. Going back into the
kitchen she gave Muriel the pad and waited for her to write the
list. Her mum’s hands were shaky, the writing spiky and jagged.
When she finished, Anna read it through to make sure she could
decipher it.
‘Here you go.’ Muriel pushed a small, purple felt purse into
24
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 24
23/09/2019 11:31
Anna’s hand. ‘The cash is in there. Should be enough. Get yourself what you need too, won’t you?’
Anna squeezed the childish-looking purse. It didn’t feel very
full. She swallowed down another surge of guilt, avoiding direct
eye contact with her mother. For years she’d stayed away from
here. From her mum. She’d had her reasons, but now she ques-
tioned them.
Sitting in the car, Anna checked the purse. A single five-pound
note. The list Muriel had written would cost at least twenty;
maybe her mind wasn’t as sharp as it once had been. She hoped
it wasn’t anything serious, like dementia. It’s not like Anna
would’ve noticed the early warning signs. She’d have to talk to
Muriel’s neighbours, see if they had any concerns.
Before setting off, Anna made a phone call.
‘Hey, darling girl. Sorry not to have made it home last night.
You okay at your dad�
��s?’
‘Why are you staying with Nanna? Are you coming home
now?’ Her voice quivered.
This, together with Carrie’s avoidance of the question, made
Anna’s heart beat harder. James was a good dad, she had never
doubted that, but she knew Carrie got anxious when there was
a change in her routine. She’d got used to staying with her dad
every other weekend, knew what to expect and when. Clearly,
she didn’t care for this current disruption.
‘Nanna’s not feeling too good at the moment and needs a
little bit of help. I’m going to stay the weekend, but don’t worry
– try and enjoy the time with Daddy. What have you two got
planned?’
There was a small sigh, then some rustling.
‘Hi, Anna.’
James had obviously been in earshot and taken over the call.
‘Is she all right? She sounds upset with me.’
‘She’s fine, really. You know what she’s like. I’ve got the cinema booked for later – she’ll forget about you abandoning her then.’
25
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 25
23/09/2019 11:31
‘Really? God, James, you know I wouldn’t have asked you to have her unless it was important!’
‘Yeah, sorry. I know. Anyway, what was so urgent you had to
actually go to Mapledon? Didn’t think anything would drag you
back there.’
‘I’m not sure what’s going on, actually. I think Mum might
be going a bit senile.’
‘Oh, fantastic. Are you sure? What makes you think that?’
‘A few things, but I haven’t got time to talk now really. I have
to go to the shop. Look, I think I’m going to be here all weekend.
Are you happy to keep Carrie?’
‘Of course. No problem. Stay as long as you need.’
‘Thanks, James. I appreciate it. Not that I want to be here for
a second longer than absolutely necessary.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ There was a pause before he
added, ‘Take care there, Anna.’
Coldness spread its icy branches inside her; his words trig-
gering old anxiety, old memories. The ones she didn’t want to
let in.
Keeping her gaze forward, Anna walked into Brook Cottage
Store – Mapledon’s only shop. Immediately, she was transported
back to her childhood. How on earth had it stayed virtually the
same for all these years? Anna walked past the pick-and-mix
shelves – memories of filling a brown paper bag with penny
sweets sweeping through her mind – and headed for the fridges.
She quickly moved along the aisles, cramming stuff in her basket
as she went. She didn’t want to be in the shop for too long. The
longer she was there, the more likely someone might recognise
her; stop her and ask unwanted questions.
Anna heard more voices now, the shop suddenly filling up.
She checked her phone for the time. Nine a.m. Damn, she hadn’t
timed her visit well – the villagers of Mapledon were beginning
their day. After checking her mother’s list one last time, Anna
26
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 26
23/09/2019 11:31
popped in a jar of coffee and headed for the checkout. There were two counters with tills. That was different. Back when she
was a child, there’d been just the one till and the owner of the
shop, Nell Andrews, was always the one behind it. Now it seemed
she’d upgraded, although it appeared only the one till was
currently in use. Anna assumed Nell must’ve retired. That was
something at least. The person serving was probably younger,
new. Wouldn’t know who Anna was.
There were several people ahead of her in the queue. Sweat
formed on her upper lip. Be quick, hurry up. She tried to keep her head lowered, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. She
might well know these people, but she wasn’t interested in them,
their lives – wasn’t interested in ‘catching up’ with any of their news. She could hear the low murmur of conversation in front
of her. Two women in the line were turned towards each other,
baskets touching as they spoke. Anna could hear their supposed
hushed chatter.
‘Can you believe it? I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘Everyone is horrified, Ali. The whole village is in shock.’
Anna turned her head, one ear towards the gossiping couple.
‘Her poor mother, though. How the hell must she feel?’
Anna’s heart hammered against her ribs, a sudden sensation
of falling overcoming her. She popped her basket on the floor
and put her hand on the bread stand to steady herself.
‘Oh, I know. I really feel for them. But surely he won’t come
back here?’
‘I don’t think the villagers would allow it. And anyway, there’s
nothing for him here.’
‘But what if we see him? Can you imagine if he were to walk
into this shop now, or he moved back into that bungalow? It
has been standing empty all these years.’
The queue surged forwards and the women stopped talking
as they were served. Anna’s saliva had dried, her mouth mois-
tureless. The women could be talking about anyone. Twenty
27
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 27
23/09/2019 11:31
years of things Anna had no clue about had gone on in this village. The likelihood they were talking about that particular event was slim, she convinced herself.
Until she reached the till.
position it had always been. Her eyes were drawn to the head-
line of the Herald Express.
MAPLEDON MURDERER RELEASED.
The noises in the shop faded. All Anna could see was the
newspaper, the bold capital letters boring into her brain.
‘Everyone’s up in arms about it. The whole village.’ A male
voice finally penetrated her thoughts.
‘When?’ Anna’s single word was strangled with fear.
‘Four days ago,’ the man said, taking the items from Anna’s
basket and scanning them. ‘No one’s spotted him, yet. Mind
you, I guess no one knows what he looks like now. But he
wouldn’t dare come back here. Mum said he’d be a fool to. She
wouldn’t serve him, she said.’
Anna didn’t respond at first, her thoughts crashing against
each other, tumbling in her head. She fumbled in her purse and
paid for the shopping with her debit card. Looking properly at
the man behind the counter, she realised he was Nell Andrews’
son, Robert – his hair had receded, and his face was thinner
than she remembered.
‘Has your mum retired?’ Anna asked, not because she was
interested, more because she wanted to take a minute or two to
recover before attempting to walk out of the shop.
‘God, no. She’ll be here until the end of time. I’ve just been
covering – she’s a bit under the weather at the moment. She’ll
be back!’ The man gave a wide grin. Anna assumed he hadn’t
recognised her and was grateful for this good fortune – a ‘wow,
it’s been years’ conversation wasn’t one she wanted now. Or
ever. She thanked him and left, his words echoing in her mind:
‘Four days ago. No one’s spotted him yet.’
28
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 28
23/09/2019 11:31
Four days ago. The same period of time her mother hadn’t left the house.
The vision of Muriel’s front door swam in front of her eyes.
And the doll’s head hammered to it, its relevance now achingly
obvious.
29
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 29
23/09/2019 11:31
Chapter Eight
2019
Lizzie
All her good intentions of sitting Dom down, telling him about
her past, went out of the window with one phone call. Now it
would have to wait.
Lizzie shoved her hastily packed bag into the boot of her
Vauxhall. She was due to upgrade her poor car, had saved for
the last three years, but hadn’t quite been able to part ways with her trusty old friend yet. They’d done a lot of travelling together
– she knew every inch of this car, knew how to handle it. Trusted it, despite its obvious failings: the driver’s side window didn’t go fully up or down, had been stuck in a halfway limbo for
about a year; the wheel trims had long since been ripped off,
and the bumper was practically held on with luck. Dom chided
her, begged her to get it seen to, but it wasn’t high on her list of priorities – as far as she was concerned the faults were purely aesthetic. Knowing she was likely to change the car anyway, she’d said it was pointless spending money on it. Then she’d kept
stalling on actually looking for a better one.
Some things were hard to let go of.
With an open packet of rhubarb and custard sweets on the
passenger seat within easy reach, her travel mug with coffee in
the cup holder and the radio on, Lizzie set off. She hoped the
30
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 30
23/09/2019 11:31
butterflies currently swarming her stomach would abate once she pulled onto the motorway. But then, there was a strong
chance they might stay with her until this ‘job’ was over.
Singing along to James Blunt’s ‘You’re Beautiful’ as loudly as
she could bear, Lizzie attempted to focus on the road instead
of her destination – and what she’d find there. Who she’d find there. Within twenty minutes she’d joined the M5 motorway
traffic. Now all she had to do was follow the signs to Devon.
31
IDareYou_B_2ndRevise_20190923_849YY.indd 31