There was no sign of a vicar. Lizzie ducked outside again and wandered to the far side of the graveyard; she’d work her way backwards to the entrance. It wasn’t a huge area – the village had always been small. Many of the headstones were old and tilting, the writing faded. It shouldn’t take too long to find Rosie’s. She read the names of those she could decipher as she moved around. None of them caused a memory to stir. Until one; the name on it making Lizzie’s blood chill in her veins.

Jonie Hayes.

One of the three names she did remember.

She hurried on past it, not wishing to linger. Not wanting to ‘go there’ yet. It was too early – she wasn’t ready. One step at a time.

The air seemed to still as she approached the grey, granite headstone that bore her mother’s name. Lizzie crouched beside her mum, eyes tightly squeezed, trying desperately to remember something. Anything about her mother. Nothing came to her. It could be because she was trying to force it – if she relaxed, didn’t try so hard, something might come.

For the moment, she could only recall a snippet of one memory.

The day her mum gave her Polly.

Chapter Eighteen

1989

Mapledon

Tuesday 18th July – the day before

‘Be back for lunch, Bella. And no going near Blackstone Close, you hear me?’

Her mother’s shrill voice followed Bella out of the house. She called back over her shoulder, ‘No, Mum. I won’t!’ rolling her eyes towards Jonie to prove she thought her mother’s warning was something she found annoying. She didn’t. She really wanted to do as her mum told her – going to Blackstone Close made her skin creep.

Of course, they would end up there, though. They usually did – even during term-time. Now they’d broken up from school, she knew it’d be where Jonie would want to go for the next six weeks. Jonie put up her usual convincing argument so they’d do what she wanted them to do. Said that it was more fun to goad Creepy Cawley than to waste the summer staying in playing stupid Barbie or watching TV. Bella had failed to impress her friend with her entertainment ideas. She’d wanted to make up some dance routines – ones like they’d been doing in PE at school. Miss Hanson had told Bella that she had “flair”, whatever that meant. But she knew it was good. She didn’t receive many compliments, so this was something she’d taken on board and wanted to build on during the holiday. She, Bella, was actually good at something.

‘Come on, then. I’ve found a way through the back of the close, so he won’t see us coming,’ Jonie said, her eyes wide with excitement. Bella forced a smile. She didn’t get why Jonie thought it was so thrilling to knock on someone’s door and run away. It was childish. And pretty stupid. She couldn’t tell Jonie that, though.