‘Did you ever tell Tina this? Like you’ve just told me?’

‘Of course. But it didn’t help. She never forgave me, you see.’

‘For what?’

‘For it being Jonie and not you.’ Muriel looked into Anna’s eyes. For a split second, all Anna saw was pain. But something else was hidden there too. Guilt? Surely the person who’d delivered the bloody message couldn’t be alluding to Muriel having blood on her hands?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

2019

Lizzie

Brook Cottage Store looked like one of those shops that simply didn’t exist in the twenty-first century. Lizzie had a sense of déjà vu when she walked through the door and a bell rang out – the gentle tinkling sound touching a memory. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to capture it. She’d been inside the store before, she felt sure. But of course, she was bound to have been – it was the only shop in Mapledon now, so it must’ve been the only one when she lived here.

Grabbing a wire basket, Lizzie began to walk up the first aisle. As she cast her gaze about her, she wondered if she’d be stared at, or even approached by curious shoppers. But, she realised, there were currently only two other customers, and one person working the till. It was Sunday morning, so she didn’t expect it was going to be teeming with villagers. Even driving up the main street she’d been surprised at how dead it was; she’d only seen one older man walking a dog.

Thinking about the likely demographic of the village, she concluded it would be the older folk up and about now, coming to the store to collect their Sunday papers – unless of course there were kids doing the paper delivery rounds. But it was the older residents she was hoping to see anyway; they’d be the ones most likely to remember what happened here, and to know about any new developments since Billy Cawley’s release. Though, they’d probably be the same people who would close ranks and refuse to speak to her about any of it. Her best hope was overhearing local gossip. And she was in a prime place for that.

She thought about the guy working the till. If he worked here full-time, he’d be privy to all the chatter, all the gossip. Shop workers often were – they were the next best thing to hairdressers in that respect. Lizzie carried on browsing the products on the shelf, deciding as she went that if she didn’t hear any interesting snippets of information, she’d try her luck with the till guy. She could turn on the charm when she needed to. She could get him talking. It was her job, after all.

Lizzie felt his eyes on her before she turned and saw that he was, indeed, watching her. She’d been so long browsing she’d obviously caught his attention, and now he maybe thought she was a shoplifter. She smiled and then placed another random item in the basket before ambling around the end of the next aisle. She almost said something, but one of the two other people in the shop approached the till and so she bit her tongue. She hovered within earshot.