He couldn’t blame him.

Billy – for all his faults, for all the bad things they’d attempted to pin on him – was an innocent man. Had been then, was now. For a second, he cursed Muriel. She’d started the ball rolling, and once it’d gathered speed there was no stopping it – it would knock down whoever got in its path. If she’d realised who it would damage, maybe, just maybe, she’d have had second thoughts. He liked to think so. She said she loved him, wanted to protect him. And to be fair, she had. She’d kept in contact with him even when he’d moved back down to Somerset. She’d been angry that he’d moved closer – only one county away. She’d liked him being in Scotland. The distance had made her feel more secure. But she’d come around, eventually. And she carried on updating him on his daughter’s life, informing him when she’d married, when she’d made him a grandad …

A sob escaped his tight chest as he tried to imagine what his granddaughter looked like. He’d so desperately wanted Muriel to send photos of Carrie, but they knew it wasn’t wise. Letters were risky enough. He wished Billy realised that he’d been punished too. He’d also lost out on seeing his daughter grow into a woman, missed all the major life events. The major one for Eric was how he’d missed the chance to be a grandad, to be involved in Carrie’s life.

Muriel had called him a coward once. It’d cut through him – he’d literally dropped to the ground, his legs giving way. How could she say that? Because he’d gone – escaped as far away as possible? He hadn’t just done that for himself. He’d done it for her. For them.

It had been an accident.

A tragic, awful accident. A moment he’d regret for a lifetime. For days, months and years afterwards, every other conceivable outcome had run through his mind. One that didn’t involve the death of a ten-year-old girl. If he’d done something differently, might things have worked out for everyone?

Sitting at the window watching cars go by – waiting and wondering which would be for him – Eric contemplated whether he should go back.

Back to Mapledon to face the music.

He was dead whether he stayed in Somerset or went there. He might as well do some good before the Reaper came for him.

Eric Fisher stuffed a holdall with some clothes. Then, with a creeping sense of doom, got in his car and set off for the place he’d once called home.

Chapter Ninety-Nine

2019

Anna

Once Billy seemed satisfied the truth had finally been spilled, after thirty years of Mapledon keeping it hidden, he opened the lounge door, standing aside to let people past him. Rob and Nell were quick to accept the invitation to leave, scuttling out rapidly, probably fearing he might change his mind. But Tina and Pat Vern hung back. And Anna did too, despite Muriel giving her a questioning glance as she herself edged closer to the door. To Anna, it all seemed unfinished, somehow. And she also felt the need for confirmation about what, exactly, was expected of her and Muriel next. Once Eric Fisher had been contacted.