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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

‘Not until you tell me what’s going on.’

‘Nothing’s going on. And even if there was, it’s my life, it’s nothing to do with you!’

‘You’re mine!’ Will cried, desperate. ‘You love me!’

‘Will, stop it!’

She stared at him coldly, her eyes furious, cheeks flushed. Will had never seen her like that before. ‘Go away,’ she said. ‘Go away now or else this really is the end of us. I mean it!’

Will moved his hand from the door frame. He was panting. His heart was racing. He wanted to fall down on his hands and knees and beg her; to convince her of how desperate he was not to lose her. He was so distraught he’d have done anything at that moment for a kind word from her, a word of reassurance, a signal that things were going to be all right between them. He would have driven a knife between his own ribs, but some small, rational part of him knew that he needed to stay calm.

‘You’ll come to the estuary?’ he asked in a quieter voice.

‘Yes. I said I would.’ Her voice was calmer too.

‘I’ll sit by the path and wait for you.’

She’d given a small nod. Will couldn’t be sure, now, if it was acquiescence or merely the desire to be rid of him. At the time he’d held onto it as a signal that she would come; that they would end the day as a couple, close again, happy, or at least that there was a chance that was what might happen.

‘Alice,’ he’d said, ‘Alice, listen, this man… whoever it is, you won’t…’

She’d shut the door. Shut it in his face. Even now, two and a half decades later, Will remembered the impotence he felt at that point, the frustration, the humiliation. He’d reached down and picked up a handful of gravel and thrown it as hard as he could at the door. Childish and petulant, stupid, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew the clattering of the little stones would be loud inside the caravan.

‘Alice, listen to me!’ he’d shouted. ‘Listen to me…’

He’d felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked down. It was Marnie.

She’d held a finger to her lips.

‘You mustn’t,’ she’d said.

Then she’d taken his hand and led him away.

46

Marnie was almost within touching distance of home when she saw the police car turn into the road that led to the retirement estate.