Hesitation. For just a second.

‘OK.’

And then she was gone.

Mary kept calling, searching. Crouching low in long grass, standing straight to scan again. What was Lily wearing? A lilac skirt, red shoes. Little white socks with frills on the turndown. An unnecessary blue hairclip in her short curls.

‘Lily!’ Why wasn’t she answering?

Mary closed her eyes, quelling rising panic. It would be fine. They’d find her.

She looked back and saw Cynthia coming through the trees with Cora trailing behind. Cora looked apprehensive, her small, pale features pinched.

Behind Cynthia came Della, with the twins.

‘Cynthia told us. We’ll find her in no time,’ Della said. ‘Now, Cora, love, where were you?’

Cora looked like she might cry.

Mary moved towards her. Forced her words to sound calm.

‘Cora, can you tell me where you two were hiding?’

Cora bit her lip and tucked herself behind Cynthia. Cynthia turned and took hold of her arms to dislodge her.

Behind Della, Mary was half aware of more mothers and children approaching, and Ruth Cavanagh just behind. She ignored them all, focusing on Cora.

‘Cora, please sweetheart, can you show me where were you hiding?’

Cora looked at the ground, kicking a pebble with her sandalled foot. She whispered something.

‘What was that?’ Della asked.

But Mary had heard. She started to run towards the building site.

42

July 1985

MARY STUMBLED AS SHE raced between the trees, but somehow stayed upright. Ahead, the building site loomed grey and dusty against the skyline, its half-built walls like robot teeth. It was big. Too big. Too big for a small girl.

‘Lily!’ she shouted, pushing through a gap in the fence. Behind her came the others, not running, not yet, but walking fast now. Calling Lily’s name. Della and her twins. Cynthia holding Cora’s hand. Aoife and Ellen, ponytails bouncing. Ruth Cavanagh, frowning and sour.

The ground underfoot was cracked and uneven, littered with planks of wood and scraps of torn-off labels. Half-full sacks of sand blocked the way and Mary stumbled again, trying to steer around one. And again, she kept going. The building nearest to her, the one at the edge of the site, was little more than foundations. It was easy to see there was nobody there, but she stopped to look anyway, as though Lily could somehow appear if she just stared hard and willed it to happen.

Beyond the foundations was the start of another house – knee-high walls, a cement mixer, a wheelbarrow. Further along, three barrels. Mary stared at them.

‘Lily!’ she shouted, running towards them. All open-topped, all empty, save for small pools of moisture. Lily wouldn’t get into something like that, of course she wouldn’t. And Cora wouldn’t have let her.

Cora.

Mary looked back. Cora was staring at the foundations of the first house.

‘Cora, where is she?’

The little girl looked down at her feet. Mary moved towards her, but Della got there first.

‘Cora, lovey, you’re not in any trouble, you just need to show us where you and Lily were hiding.’