‘I think you should be here tomorrow,’ Anna said when Lizzie pulled up outside her house. Her body was turned towards Lizzie, her eyes staring, intense.

‘Because it’s the anniversary?’

‘Yes. After that bizarre display, I think we should face whatever is coming together.’

‘Okay. But we won’t know when.’

‘You could stay here for the night, just in case?’

Lizzie wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not sure. My husband turned up last night and he’s staying at the B&B too now.’

‘Oh? How come?’

‘Long story. But basically, he didn’t know.’ Lizzie slumped. ‘As in, he didn’t know who I was. Who my father is. His release has had such a huge impact. Greater than I imagined it would, actually.’

‘I’m sorry. Everything you went through, and now you’re reliving it – like watching the DVD but with bonus material.’

Lizzie laughed.

‘Oh, well I’m glad you can still laugh,’ Anna said. ‘That’s something.’

‘What’s the saying? If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry?’

‘Yup!’ Anna turned away and opened the car door. Before closing it, she lowered her head back inside. ‘Whatever happens, Lizzie, whatever truth we find – if we do get to the truth – I hope you can finally move on. Enjoy your life as you should.’

Lizzie swallowed the painful lump in her throat. ‘Thank you. I really hope the same for you, too. Let’s pray the truth isn’t as painful as the lies have been.’

Anna nodded and slammed the door. Lizzie watched her walk down the path and in through the front door. She drove to the end of the road and stopped to make a call while she had a few bars of signal. The phone still went straight to voicemail.

‘Hey, Dom. Sorry, but I’m not coming back to the B&B just yet. I have to make a trip into town to interview someone of interest. I’ll give you another call when I can – signal is iffy, so don’t worry if you don’t hear from me. I’ll be back by dark.’

She hung up, then clicked on Google Maps, searching for farms situated around ten miles from Mapledon. She hoped there weren’t too many places with caravans in the vicinity. Two farms showed up: Blasedale and Haytor Vale. Lizzie decided Blasedale fitted the description her dad had given. Anticipation growing in her stomach, she set off.

The steering was heavy; she needed to really pull at the wheel to manoeuvre the car up the dirt track approaching Blasedale Farm. She abandoned it at the side of a barn, and continued on foot towards the gate, which looked to lead to the back, and, with luck, the caravans. She wondered how many were on the land, and how easy it would be to locate Billy’s. It would be preferable to find him without having to ask anyone – she wasn’t sure what details he would’ve given and didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Lizzie lifted the wooden gate, walking through and closing it behind her. No one was in sight; she couldn’t even hear any noises she’d associate with a working farm. Maybe it wasn’t a working farm anymore.