‘If you aren’t back for revenge, why get Tina to play the stupid Knock, Knock game?’ Anna asked.

‘He didn’t,’ Tina said. ‘I’d spoken to Billy about everything that had gone on. We’d had long discussions on the phone, written letters. I even visited a few times. I was very aware of the pain he’d gone through. Obviously I was in pain too. Have been since that day. It was me who felt the need for retribution. I wanted those who were involved to be punished in some way. I came up with the idea, and I convinced Billy to help by making sure I had the right “material”. Lizzie had nothing at all to do with any of it, before you start too, Nell. She didn’t come here for a story to sell to the papers. She came here for her story. To find out the truth about her childhood.

‘I think we’ve all found out some truths now. But, Muriel?’ Tina raised her chin in Muriel’s direction. ‘No matter the whys and wherefores, and with no other agenda apart from closure, I still have to know where my Jonie is. And you have to tell me.’

Chapter Ninety-Six

1989

Outskirts of Mapledon

Thursday 20th July – the day after, 2.30 a.m.

Eric had waited until the streetlights went out. Waited until he thought Mapledon’s inhabitants would be sleeping soundly. All apart from one, anyway. He faced that man now and shuddered. Reverend Farnley stared at him, making him feel as though he were looking right inside his soul.

But he didn’t, or couldn’t, judge.

Muriel had assured Eric he could trust him to help. She’d told him why she was so sure. That this man was guilty of his own crimes.

Reverend Farnley got inside the car and Eric slowly drove out of Mapledon. He headed towards the vast moorland on the south side of the village. A great enough distance from the village to feel confident police resources wouldn’t stretch that far. And in an even more remote area of the moors than those popular with walkers. Eric had heard about bodies being buried on moorland – bodies of people never found. Adults, children, lost to the earth. He had to hope this burial would also remain undetected. Forever.

It was a sight he couldn’t have imagined in his worst nightmares. The limp body of a child being thrown into the ground by two men. A father and a Reverend. Eric looked to the heavens.

Shit. Please don’t let there be a God. Don’t let anyone know what I’ve done.

It had taken several hours to complete the task and it’d been achieved in virtual silence. The same as the drive back to Mapledon; Eric had nothing to say to Christopher Farnley. How could a man of God be inappropriate with a child? He wanted to say something. He desperately wanted to spit at him, tell him how vile he was. Hit him.

But how could he now? After all this?