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Back The Scarlet Dress Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. Friday
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. Saturday
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. Sunday
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. One Week Later
  77. 71
  78. Afterwards
  79. 72
  80. Acknowledgments
  81. Reading Group Questions
  82. More from Louise Douglas
  83. About the Author
  84. About Boldwood Books

Will’s eye travelled across the photograph, from Alice’s face to the faces of her parents. They too were smiling, each a kind of rictus grin. They weren’t comfortable being this close to Alice. They might have loved her in their own, difficult ways, but they didn’t understand her. She was the grit in their shell, the cuckoo in their nest.

Mr and Mrs Lang had been to Severn Sands once before, after the scarlet dress Alice had been wearing the evening she disappeared was found washed up on the banks of the estuary. Angharad had told Will to stay well away so he’d watched the report on television. The Langs had come to the place where the dress had been found, an old boarded walkway once used by fishermen to secure their boats when the tide was in. They had stood together on those black, rotting boards and thrown flowers into the dirty grey water. The flowers had spun on the water’s surface, and then been carried out to sea. The Langs had watched until the flowers became too small to see, lost amongst the light falling on the water and then they’d turned and, accompanied by a police officer, had carefully walked back along the walkway and across the shore. Mrs Lang had been wearing similar, unsuitable shoes to the ones she’d worn earlier. She had been clutching a similar handbag, in the manner of the Queen.

Will took another drink. The vodka was in his blood, making him feel pleasantly swimmy. His throat was aching with the effort of suppressing pain. This must be how Marnie felt. It was grief that stopped her talking. Grief that had got her tongue.

He didn’t want to think about Marnie. He only wanted to think about Alice. He would think about her until he slept, until he slid into blissful oblivion.

Alice.

Alice.

Alice.

Alice.

Alice.

36

Saturday

Marnie was always up early on agility competition days because more often than not there was a long drive to get to wherever it was she was going and course walking usually took place before 8 a.m. That Saturday was no different. She was up and dressed by five thirty and by five forty-five had loaded up the old car with everything she and Tessy needed for the day: bedding, leads, treats, poo bags, blankets and coats for the dog and changes of footwear and clothing for herself. Plus water, coffee, apples, biscuits, chocolate. When this was done, she took Mister and Luna for a stroll around Severn Sands. The sun hadn’t risen and the air was bitterly cold, sitting heavy above the surface of the gunmetal-grey water.