The woman smiled – it appeared to be a genuine one. ‘Yeah, I heard that about this place.’ She reached a hand forwards. ‘Lizzie Brenfield,’ she said.
‘Well, hello, Lizzie.’ Anna took her hand, shaking it gently before releasing it. ‘I’m Anna. I’m the one that got away.’ She smiled before adding, ‘Although I appear to have been dragged back.’
Lizzie cocked her head to one side. ‘Well, that makes two of us.’
The Lord moveth in mysterious ways, Lizzie thought as she took a step back from Anna to make a quick appraisal of the situation. A moment ago she’d believed her trip here would ultimately be fruitless, but now it seemed she’d been thrown a lifeline. Whoever Anna was, whatever her reason for being here, she too appeared to have a similar feeling about Mapledon. Lizzie’s journalistic mind kicked in. There could even be a story here. One that wasn’t hers.
‘You from here originally then, Anna?’ Lizzie wondered why she hadn’t offered up her surname. She’d have to work a little harder.
‘Yep. For my sins.’
Lizzie arched one eyebrow. Interesting phrasing. She tried to think quickly. She didn’t want to waste this opportunity to find out more about Mapledon’s current goings-on, but then she also didn’t want to launch into a million questions and frighten Anna off.
‘Mapledon doesn’t appear to be high on either of our “best places to visit in Devon list” by the sounds of things.’
‘God, no!’ Anna said loudly. Lizzie observed Anna’s quick glance towards the church and subsequent sign of the cross, which she jabbed out over her chest.
‘Don’t worry,’ Lizzie whispered, leaning forwards, ‘I don’t think He heard you.’
‘You never can be too careful though, eh?’
Lizzie felt an immediate bond with Anna – as though they had something in common: a shared history. Maybe they did.
‘No, you can’t. Especially here in Mapledon,’ Lizzie said, nudging Anna with her elbow. She meant it in jest, but her voice hadn’t received that message. ‘Just joking,’ she added quickly.
‘Actually, Lizzie, you’re not far from the truth. Want to walk with me? Or do you have to be somewhere else?’
Lizzie sensed Anna wanted to be away from the church, away from the possibility of being overheard before talking more. This was good news – it meant she knew something, and more importantly, wanted to tell her about it. Perhaps her luck was about to turn.
Monday 17th July – 2 days before
When would the little shits let him be?
Billy Cawley saw the shadows, heard the scurrying of feet and the giggles just moments before the banging on the front door. He was tired. So bloody tired of it all. He’d lost count of how many months he’d been hounded by the kids.
Kids. Part of him wanted to let it go – they didn’t know any better. But he couldn’t. They should know better. Their parents should be teaching them better. Did they even know where their bratty children were? What they were up to? And the people of Mapledon had dared to give him a hard time about his parenting. Fucking cheek. They all needed to be taught a lesson. He’d begun chasing the kids out of the cul-de-sac – running after them, shouting like a madman. He’d almost got hold of one lad just last week, but now that he wasn’t keeping himself as fit, having 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. 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.
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 recognised 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.
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