Reassured for the moment that Billy Cawley had not returned to live in the bungalow in Blackstone Close, Anna turned her back on it and walked on. She wished she’d turned her back on it thirty years ago, too. Before the chain reaction of events following that game had become fatal. It seemed Anna’s life had been filled with what ifs and if onlys.

The church came into sight almost immediately once she’d joined the main street – its limestone-rendered tower visible through the trees. She’d walk as far as the church, checking the outside of every house as she went, then return to her mum’s via the road that branched off to the left, near the village hall. That way, she’d have done a circuit of Mapledon. Her hopes of finding something ‘out of place’ were fading, though. It might be that a more direct approach would be necessary – asking outright if anyone had experienced something out of the ordinary over the past few days. Anna thought Robert, at Brook Cottage Store, might be a good person to ask. For now, she’d continue the walk. If nothing else, it was keeping her out of her mother’s hair for a bit longer.

As Anna reached the top of the village and approached the church, she spotted a woman coming out of the wooden-gated entrance. She didn’t recognise her, although she didn’t look much different in age to Anna. Someone she went to school with? She kept her attention on the figure for a few seconds too long, garnering a strange look in response.

‘Hi,’ Anna said, deciding it would make the moment less awkward now she’d been caught staring.

‘All right?’ The woman gave a quick, tight smile, hesitating at the church gate as though she didn’t know quite what to do. Anna took her indecision and obvious discomfort as a sign of guilt. Had she stolen something from the church? Maybe she wasn’t from around here at all, was some kind of chancer. Anna took a few steps towards her. The woman didn’t have anything with her, not even a bag. Her T-shirt was tight-fitting – so no stolen goods could be squirrelled away beneath it. She had various tattoos on both arms, a piercing under her bottom lip. As she looked at her face, Anna noted her eyes were red as though she’d been crying, and she suddenly felt appalled at herself for jumping to conclusions. Clearly she was upset – had probably just visited a grave.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to stare – just thought I recognised you,’ Anna lied.

‘No. I doubt that,’ the woman said. She made no attempt to move past Anna. She took it as a signal to continue.

‘Not many people come to Mapledon,’ Anna said. ‘Not if they want to leave again.’ She gave a laugh, hoping this woman would take her comment as the joke she intended. Well, an almost-joke. There might well be a grain of truth in her statement.