Aoife and Ellen looked at one another, eyes locked in what struck Mary as an unspoken message.

Aoife shrugged. ‘Who knows.’

And with that, they all began to walk away. The two girls. The twins. The four boys who belonged to the women with the toddlers. Some older kids from Oakbrook. Mary looked at their backs as they moved further into the distance, sudden unease slipping over her skin.

Wait! she wanted to call. You didn’t find Lily yet, you can’t leave while she’s still hiding – it’s your job to find her!

But that was silly. Lily was with Cora, and they’d come out now too and they’d all go home.

‘Oh – I see Cora now.’ Cynthia squinted back towards the road. ‘She must have taken the shortcut through the woods.’ She shook her head. ‘Her mother hates that. Says there could be rats or anything there.’ She shrugged and smiled at Mary. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’

Mary stood, feet rooted to the ground. Staring. Staring at the small figure of eight-year-old Cora O’Brien as she walked along Rowanbrook Avenue towards her house.

All on her own.

41

July 1985

MARY FROZE, AS CORA grew smaller in the distance.

Cora can’t go home, she’s playing with Lily. Why are they all leaving – they have to find Lily first!

Helplessly, she turned to Cynthia.

‘Cora was with Lily – is she going home without her?’

Even as she asked, she knew it was a nonsense question. Cora was clearly on her own.

Cynthia pulled her hair into a low ponytail, frowning slightly.

‘I’m sure Lily’s still hiding. You just need to go into the woods and pick her up.’ She turned to walk away.

‘Cynthia, please could you stay here just for a moment? In case Lily comes out and I don’t see her?’

Hesitation. Then the high-wattage smile. ‘Sure. Anything for that sweet little one. I miss looking after her, you know.’

‘Thank you,’ Mary said, walking quickly towards the woods.

Inside the wooded canopy, shade replaced sun, sucking up light and sound. Mary stood to listen but heard only silence. The grass grew longer there, where the lawn mowers couldn’t reach, and it brushed the back of her bare legs, spidery against her skin.

‘Lily!’ she tried again, blood roaring in her ears.

She’ll be fine, she’ll be crouched down looking at flowers, it’s nothing. There is nothing to worry about.

‘Lily! Come on now! The game’s over.’

Nothing.

She moved deeper into the trees, denser now, no light at all, and other than the snap of twigs beneath her feet, no sound. Mounds of earth, clusters of daisies and buttercups, gnarled roots of ancient oaks. Not a sound.

‘Is she there? I kind of have to go …’ Cynthia called. She had walked across the green to the edge of the woods.

‘I can’t find her yet,’ Mary called back, voice hoarse, heart pounding. ‘Please can you ask Cora where they were?’

She could see Cynthia’s outline just beyond the woods, her white skirt bright between the trees.