Muriel turned away from the Reverend, directing the rolling of her eyes and small shake of her head to Nell and the remaining group of women. She’d been brought up to be God-fearing; however, some situations required a helping hand from those on earth. In Muriel’s opinion, God could only do so much and putting all your faith in Him was a mistake. Surely, He’d want His children to sort their own mess out occasionally.

After a few polite statements the conversation turned to the Mapledon Meeting and Reverend Farnley took his leave. Muriel and Nell took turns to head the monthly get-together, the venue alternating between their houses. It normally took place on the last Thursday of each month; however, they’d brought it forward this time – both having agreed it was somewhat of an ‘emergency meeting’. A small, select group of female villagers attended, usually twelve, but sometimes more if there was something pressing to discuss. Like now. Admittedly, this was one of the most pressing topics that had ever faced the group – although there’d been other challenging ones, Jonie Hayes’ disappearance was the worst. The mothers of the group in particular were very concerned and would need support and reassurance.

‘See you at seven-thirty sharp, Nell. I’ll make sure I put out extra nibbles – it’s going to be a busy one.’

Chapter Thirteen

2019

Anna

Saturday 13th July

‘Hiding in here, worrying, isn’t very productive.’ Anna lowered the curtain, moving away from the lounge window to face Muriel. Since her disclosure she’d been quiet, barely speaking. Instead, she’d watched daytime TV, a blank look plastered on her face. Anna knew if she couldn’t put her mother’s mind at ease – if she couldn’t confidently tell her that the doll’s head was nothing to do with Billy Cawley – this would drag on; hang over their heads for the foreseeable future. Anna did not want to spend more time in Mapledon. Maybe she’d have to persuade her mum to move nearer to her and Carrie in Bristol.

‘What do you propose I do? March around the village accusing the local kids of trespass, criminal damage?’

‘Well, no. Although going to the police with your suspicions would be a start.’

‘I told you, Anna – I’m not going to the police.’ She looked past Anna, into the distance. ‘That’ll make matters worse.’

‘For who? The kids? That’s the idea, Mum. And if it isn’t the kids …’

‘It’ll be him,’ Muriel said.

‘The police will be able to keep an eye on things. On him. He’ll be on a life licence. Something like this would put him straight back to prison.’

‘Or, it could stir up a hornet’s nest,’ Muriel said, her face stony.

That was the problem with small villages. Anna had always sensed it growing up, but now it was even more apparent. One event could cause a ripple effect – what should be contained within a family unit suddenly became the business of every person in the village. Everyone had something to say; some advice to give, solutions to problems to offer. Whether wanted or not. If word got out that Muriel thought the children of Mapledon were responsible for the macabre doll’s head, then she was right – accusations would fly, uptight members of the community would be up in arms. The local council would probably seek to lay down a curfew – the teenagers would rebel. The situation would likely worsen. And then Muriel would become the sole focus of attention. But then, maybe she had already.