given up on the gym after . . . Well, after life had turned to total shit, he didn’t have the stamina.
Christ – twenty-five years old and already being outrun by
kids. Mind you, not only didn’t he have the body or fitness of
a twenty-five-year-old, he didn’t have the face of one either.
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That was evident when he overheard the taunts, the whispers and nicknames whenever he ventured out of his comfort zone
of the bungalow – ‘Old Man Cawley’, ‘Creepy Cawley’ and the
like. He had had worse nicknames though – some of the more
cruel, unfounded things people said really boiled his piss. But
he no longer had the motivation, the desire to look good or
worry unduly about what the folk of Mapledon said about him.
There was no one to impress now. Not now they’d taken
everything from him.
A loud crash at the kitchen window startled him.
‘Bastards!’ He rushed to the door, flinging it open in time to
see two boys hare down the road. He’d never catch up with
them. Billy strode outside, stepping over all the crap in his
garden. He kicked a doll’s head hard, sending it flying through
the air. It landed by his truck, then rolled awkwardly behind the back tyre. He walked around to the kitchen window, and on
inspection of the ground he found a large stone. He picked it
up; it was pretty weighty – he was amazed it hadn’t gone right
through the glass. None of the kids had done more than play
Knock, Knock, Ginger before. It seemed they were getting braver.
Maybe it was time for him to do the same.
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Chapter Twenty-Two
2019
Anna
Saturday 13th July
She was taking a leap of faith. Anna had no clue who Lizzie
was, what she wanted – but, like her, she’d come to Mapledon
for a reason. Anna wanted to ask so many questions, but also
wanted to tread with caution. She needed to get Lizzie away
from the church: she didn’t want to be seen by any nosy
villagers. Being back in this place was bad enough, being recog-
nised even worse – but to also be caught talking to an outsider
– well, that would be punishable by death. Despite knowing
that to be an exaggeration, Anna did know it was the one thing
the tight-knit villagers of Mapledon feared the most. Although,
at this point, just because Anna didn’t recognise the woman,
or her name, it didn’t mean she didn’t have family ties here,
so perhaps she was being too quick to label her as an outsider.
The irony that she was acting just like a Mapledon villager
herself wasn’t lost.
Only one way of finding out.
‘So, Lizzie – you visiting family too?’ Anna turned to face
Lizzie as they walked, wanting to gauge her reaction.
‘Kinda, yes. No. Well, maybe . . .’ Lizzie stuttered.
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That solved that, then. Anna inwardly sighed. How could she proceed from there?
Anna guided Lizzie around the corner of Edgelands Lane, the
small primary school coming into sight. Lizzie stopped walking,
appearing to freeze to the spot.
‘What’s the matter?’ Anna asked.
‘Nothing, sorry.’ She began walking again, her head bowed.
‘Why did you say Mapledon had dragged you back, Anna?’
‘It was only a turn of phrase, I guess. I just meant that it’d
taken years to escape it – and its small-village mentality – and
I never had the inclination to return once I’d left. But, with my mother still living here, well, it’s like I can’t quite rid myself of the place yet. While I still have her, I suppose it was inevitable that one day I’d need to come back here. And it seems yesterday
was that day.’
‘Is she ill, your mother?’
‘I think she’s showing some early signs of dementia.’ Anna
had found it easier to talk to someone outside of the family,
someone who didn’t know the people involved; couldn’t judge.
‘Ah. I’m sorry. It’s a terrible thing watching the person you
love become less like the person you’ve known all your life, I’m
sure. Nice that you’re here for her though. Are you the only
child?’
‘Yep. It’s all on me. My mum and dad separated years ago,
so Mum only has her neighbours and the other villagers to look
out for her. You never really prepare yourself for a parent to
deteriorate, to die – do you?’ Anna gave a half-smile. Lizzie’s
skin had paled, and immediately Anna realised she’d put her
foot in it. Shit. Lizzie had been coming out of the churchyard
– what was the betting she’d been visiting the grave of one of
her parents? Maybe even both. That would explain her odd
‘kinda, yes, no,’ response when she’d asked if she was visiting
family. ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie – I . . .’ she faltered.
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‘It’s fine. Really. And no, you’re right, you don’t prepare yourself – even in later years.’ Lizzie dropped her gaze. ‘But you especially don’t prepare when you’re just seven years old when
it happens. How could a child ever envisage something happening to her parents?’
Oh, God. Anna flinched. ‘How terrible,’ she said, now wishing she hadn’t begun this line of conversation. Anna had never been
very good with other people’s grief, and today she’d overdosed
on it. As much as she wanted to move the conversation on to
a brighter topic, she knew she’d opened this poor woman’s
wound now, so had no option but to watch the blood flow out.
‘What happened?’
Anna’s question was met with silence. They carried on
walking, side by side – Anna led them past Major’s Farm and
along Langway Road, making sure to give a passing glance to
each property, checking if anything unusual adorned their doors.
They were almost at the turn that would take Anna back home
when Lizzie finally spoke again.
‘Cancer,’ she said. ‘My mother died of cervical cancer. She
was only twenty-four.’
‘I’m so sorry, Lizzie. That’s shocking. It must’ve turned your
world upside down.’ Anna truly felt terrible for this woman – to
have had such a young mother, then lose her. Her life must’ve
changed dramatically afterwards. No doubt Lizzie had a long,
probably painful story to tell, but Anna realised they were getting closer to Muriel’s road now and she didn’t really want to invite
a stranger in. ‘Er . . . I’m going to have to head back, actually.
Mum will be anxious – I’ve been longer than I thought.’
‘’Course. Sure.’ Lizzie looked around her, like she was lost.
Of course. She’d dragged the poor woman quite a way from
where her car was parked, through winding lanes. She was
probably wondering how to get back to it.
‘If yo
u go left here it’ll take you back onto the main road of
Mapledon, then hook another left, back up the hill.’ Anna smiled.
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‘Good, thanks. Oh, Anna – er . . . I have no place to stay, actually . . . so . . .’
‘Oh.’ Anna panicked for a moment, thinking Lizzie was
angling to stay with her. Surely she wouldn’t ask that of someone she’d just met? She hesitated before remembering the B&B on
the edge of Mapledon. ‘Have you checked out Bulleigh Barton?
It’s a beautiful place, rolling hillsides, quiet. I almost checked in myself rather than stay at my mother’s! There’s a leaflet for
it in the shop window. It’ll have their phone number – you’ll
see it when you head up the hill.’
‘Great. I’d kinda left without any plan, really. And this didn’t
appear to be a place where I could get a cheap Airbnb deal,’
Lizzie said.
‘No, I guess it doesn’t. There’s literally just that one place
within ten miles, I think. Not many visitors to Mapledon . . .’
‘Not if they want to leave again, right?’ Lizzie said, unsmiling.
The intensity in her eyes made Anna shiver.
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Chapter Twenty-Three
2019
Lizzie
So much for Anna having a ‘story’, Lizzie thought as she strode
back to her car, her mind whirring. Visiting her mother who
had dementia. Sentimental, and not exactly what Lizzie had
been hoping to learn. Lizzie had failed to get Anna’s surname
– or her mother’s name – no information regarding any recent
events in this godforsaken village. She was no closer to finding
out if he might be here. But, thanks to her new friend, she did now have a place to stay. Lizzie had finally got a mobile signal
as she approached the top of the hill and booked herself into
Bulleigh Barton for three nights. She reasoned that if she hadn’t found what she was looking for within that time, then she never
would.
A couple of people had openly stared at her as she’d stood
punching the number of the B&B into her phone outside the
shop. She’d been tempted to strike up a conversation but had
ultimately chickened out, the thought of the questions they’d ask her putting her off. Before talking to anyone else, she required a night to prepare. She may have already said too much to Anna,
who might well go straight home to her mother and repeat
everything she’d said. Thinking about it, there was a strong
possibility that by tomorrow the whole village would know her
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name. Had she been too quick to introduce herself? Giving her full name had been a mistake. Anna hadn’t been that naive. But,
she realised, if someone googled her, they were only likely to
find articles she’d written, nothing about her past.
A journalist in Mapledon, though. How welcome would that
be?
After sitting in her car contemplating for a good ten minutes,
Lizzie reversed and instead of driving back down the main road
leading out of Mapledon, she turned into the one that Anna
had walked her down moments before. She pulled up outside
the primary school, her heart fluttering furiously. A stream of
disjointed memories had slammed into her brain from nowhere
when she and Anna had walked past it. It had shocked her. So
much so she’d felt debilitated; unable to move. These were things she knew she had to face if she were to have any chance of
shaking off her past once and for all.
Lizzie put the car in gear and moved off again. She had an
urge to see the bungalow – it couldn’t be too hard to find in
such a small village and she had recognised the school, so maybe other places would be familiar as well. A tiredness swept over
her, though, so she decided it would be a task best left to
tomorrow. Because if he had come back, then going there would be too much to handle in one day. To face him would take far
more strength than she currently had. She’d rather know what
she was likely to come up against, be better equipped. Her plan
to get information from the villagers was the one she should
follow to limit the hurt, the pain she would undoubtedly feel
all over again.
As Anna had said, Bulleigh Barton was on the edge of
Mapledon, barely half a mile outside, situated down a narrow
lane and reached via a long driveway. As soon as Lizzie stepped
out of her car she immediately felt calmer, more awake and far
less anxious than she’d been in the village. It was as though the air was purer, less toxic. She was greeted warmly by the owner,
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Gwen – a bubbly woman of around fifty with a soft, Irish lilt.
Lizzie was offered tea and biscuits and then shown to her room,
which had a luxurious double bed, a homely feel and overlooked
the fields. It seemed, at least here, strangers were welcome. But maybe it was because Gwen had been an outsider herself once.
‘This is perfect, thank you, Gwen,’ Lizzie said, smiling.
‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay
better, won’t you? You’re my only guest at the moment.’
‘Will do,’ Lizzie said, her attention out the window at the
cows in a neighbouring field. It was a far cry from built-up
Abbingsworth. ‘Oh, actually – do you have Wi-Fi here?’
For a horrible moment, as she caught the blank look on
Gwen’s face, she thought she was going to say no. But, with a
wink, Gwen said: ‘Yes – we’re out in the sticks and signal isn’t
always grand, but we are in touch with the twenty-first century.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘Great, that’s good to know.’
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Chapter Twenty-Four
1989
Fisher residence
Friday 14th July – 5 days before
Bella was sitting at the halfway point on the stairs, her left ear turned towards the closed sitting-room door, but annoyingly she
couldn’t make out what they were saying. She’d been sent to bed
an hour ago, the same time as her dad had left for the pub. But
the muffled voices – punctured every now and then with loud
laughter – had risen through the floorboards making sleep impos-
sible. Her mum’s friends often came round for ‘drinkies’, as she
called it, and at times the whole house was filled with women
for the stupid Mapledon Meetings. But they were always on a
Thursday night. Bella thought all of it was just an excuse for
them to gossip and get drunk. The mornings after these get-to-
gethers and meetings, Bella always noticed her mother wasn’t
herself, telling Bella she ‘felt delicate’ and that she couldn’t cope with any of Bella’s ‘nonsense’. Dad would whisper ‘hangover’ in
Bella’s ear before leaving for work, or golf. She didn’t know what it meant exactly, but eventually realised it just meant her mother had a headache and wasn’t to be di
sturbed.
As her mum was drinking now, with Mrs Andrews and Auntie
Tina, Bella knew tomorrow morning would be one of those
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times she’d have to keep her distance and let her mother be; she’d have another headache to get over. Disappointment raged
through her. She’d wanted to get out of the village, maybe visit
Bovey Tracey and go to some shops with her mum – have lunch
in a café. Anything to take her away from the dullest place on
earth. Anything to take her away from the stupid Knock, Knock
games Jonie would make her play. She hated her mum some-
times.
Just as boredom was about to make her creep back to her
room, Bella heard Mrs Andrews’ voice more clearly. She must
be right by the door. Bella ducked back a little from the open
stairwell just in case she was coming out; she didn’t want to be
spotted and yelled at for eavesdropping.
‘No one knows what he’s capable of. No one knows him at
all, not even where he came from. Just wish he wasn’t here. I really thought he’d leave after his kid was taken.’
Bella heard murmurings, and what sounded like a disagree-
ment, and thought she made out the words ‘obviously wasn’t
enough’, before hearing Mrs Andrews’ voice clearly again.
‘Anyway, I’ll make sure it’s on the agenda for the next meeting,
even if you’re not bothered, Tina. Sorry I can’t stay for another—’
The lounge door swung open and Bella jumped up, moving
swiftly towards her bedroom only moments before the women
appeared. That’d been a close one. Bella listened as her mum
and Mrs Andrews said goodbye and gave each other a kiss before
the front door banged closed. The voices in the lounge became
softer. Bella got back into bed. She guessed who they were talking about; he was all anyone seemed to talk about in this village.
Bella wondered why he stayed too – she couldn’t understand
why anyone would want to be part of this place, let alone if
everyone was rude and horrible to you.
What on earth had he done to make them so nasty?
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Chapter Twenty-Five
2019
Anna
Sunday 14th July
At first, Anna assumed the banging on the door was Auntie
Tina, but as she lifted her head from the pillow and checked the