‘’Course. Sure.’ Lizzie looked around her, like she was lost. Of course. She’d dragged the poor woman quite a way from where her car was parked, through winding lanes. She was probably wondering how to get back to it.

‘If you go left here it’ll take you back onto the main road of Mapledon, then hook another left, back up the hill.’ Anna smiled.

‘Good, thanks. Oh, Anna – er … I have no place to stay, actually … so …’

‘Oh.’ Anna panicked for a moment, thinking Lizzie was angling to stay with her. Surely she wouldn’t ask that of someone she’d just met? She hesitated before remembering the B&B on the edge of Mapledon. ‘Have you checked out Bulleigh Barton? It’s a beautiful place, rolling hillsides, quiet. I almost checked in myself rather than stay at my mother’s! There’s a leaflet for it in the shop window. It’ll have their phone number – you’ll see it when you head up the hill.’

‘Great. I’d kinda left without any plan, really. And this didn’t appear to be a place where I could get a cheap Airbnb deal,’ Lizzie said.

‘No, I guess it doesn’t. There’s literally just that one place within ten miles, I think. Not many visitors to Mapledon …’

‘Not if they want to leave again, right?’ Lizzie said, unsmiling. The intensity in her eyes made Anna shiver.

Chapter Twenty-Three

2019

Lizzie

So much for Anna having a ‘story’, Lizzie thought as she strode back to her car, her mind whirring. Visiting her mother who had dementia. Sentimental, and not exactly what Lizzie had been hoping to learn. Lizzie had failed to get Anna’s surname – or her mother’s name – no information regarding any recent events in this godforsaken village. She was no closer to finding out if he might be here. But, thanks to her new friend, she did now have a place to stay. Lizzie had finally got a mobile signal as she approached the top of the hill and booked herself into Bulleigh Barton for three nights. She reasoned that if she hadn’t found what she was looking for within that time, then she never would.

A couple of people had openly stared at her as she’d stood punching the number of the B&B into her phone outside the shop. She’d been tempted to strike up a conversation but had ultimately chickened out, the thought of the questions they’d ask her putting her off. Before talking to anyone else, she required a night to prepare. She may have already said too much to Anna, who might well go straight home to her mother and repeat everything she’d said. Thinking about it, there was a strong possibility that by tomorrow the whole village would know her name. Had she been too quick to introduce herself? Giving her full name had been a mistake. Anna hadn’t been that naive. But, she realised, if someone googled her, they were only likely to find articles she’d written, nothing about her past.