‘But Billy did take her, Anna. You saw him with your own eyes.’ There was a pleading in her mother’s voice. Anna’s skin turned to gooseflesh, her mind awash with snippets of conversation, a collage of images – none of which made sense in this moment.

And her mother had not denied her accusation.

Chapter Eighty-Three

2019

Lizzie

Armed at last with what she truly believed was the correct story, Lizzie reversed her car back out of the farm and sped through the lanes towards Mapledon. It was late, the night closing in quickly around her now the sun had set. She’d listened intently for hours to what Billy Cawley – her father – had to say. She felt as though she were on fire – all her synapses firing at once, her adrenaline crashing through her veins at breakneck speed. All her focus was on one thing: finally airing the dirty secrets Mapledon had been hiding for thirty years; hanging the villagers involved in the cover-up out to dry. She’d felt the darkness the moment she’d driven into Mapledon six days ago. Then she’d questioned accounts, delved into the background of the story, as well as the inhabitants of the Stepford wives’ community – and now she had answers.

But she couldn’t carry this off alone; she needed help. Someone to be a witness.

As soon as she got to the outskirts of the village, she stopped to make a call while she still had signal. The recipient didn’t seem surprised to hear from her, even giving her some further important information. Nothing else could shock her now. They’d agreed to meet Lizzie at the suggested location. Her phone pinged with notifications. Dom had tried calling and had texted her seven times. Lizzie quickly hammered out a reply, a brief explanation. Then she started the car again and turned in to Mapledon.

Chapter Eighty-Four

1989

The Mapledon Meeting

Thursday 20th July – the day after

‘Thank you for coming. I know the timing seems … difficult. But actually it couldn’t be better. We can do something to help. Something positive,’ Muriel said.

‘Like what, though, Muriel? Jonie’s missing, the police haven’t found any trace of her. We were out last night combing the village, the moorland on the outskirts – and nothing. What more can we do?’ Allison, Councillor Furlong’s wife, said.

‘We can make sure whoever did this doesn’t get away with it! Come on – we all know who’s responsible, let’s not make any bones about it. Billy Cawley took her and whatever he’s planning to do with her, we can assume it’s not good. We know what he did to his own daughter …’

The women, all fifteen of them, began mumbling between themselves. Muriel and Nell exchanged glances.

‘Ladies, ladies, quieten down a moment. This is important. Muriel has brought this meeting forward for good reason,’ Nell said.

‘Thank you, Nell.’ Muriel stood up in front of the women. ‘We need to come up with a plan.’