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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 next job was to empty the bins that had been put out ready for the changeover. He had a trailer that he pulled round after him and he put the full bin bags into the trailer and then stored them in the waste compound, ready to be collected and taken away. Because of the heat, the plastic bags were swollen, flabby with gases. Will was wearing his gauntlets, sweating alcohol, listening to the sounds of the caravan park waking, when Mrs deVillars hurried past. She didn’t notice him but he noticed her, partly because it was unusual to see her in the park so early but mainly because of her expression. She looked furtive and worried. Will put down the handles of the trailer and, keeping his distance, followed Mrs deVillars across the park to Caravan 49.

Once there, she stopped and gazed in dismay at the dent Will had made when he punched the caravan the night before, and then she’d knocked on the door.

‘Hello!’ Mrs deVillars called, keeping her voice low. ‘Hello, Alice, are you there? Is everything all right?’

A wood pigeon flew overhead, its wings beating like a heart, and the wind chimes sang out from the branch of the old apple tree. Someone switched a radio on and a little girl turned a rope to skip. Will watched Mrs deVillars reach out for the handle, pull it down and open the door to Caravan 49. She put her head inside and called again, ‘Hello! Alice!’

Then she went into the caravan. Will held his breath. A few moments later, Mrs deVillars appeared at the door again. She looked left and right, as if to check if anyone had seen her, then stepped down out of the caravan, and closed the door carefully. She put her head down and hurried away.

48

Sunday

A storm was brewing outside, rattling the cottage windows and guttering, the wind powering up to batter the flatlands and strain the sinews of the branches of the big old trees in the fields. Marnie lay wide awake, turning from one side to the other but unable to find a comfortable position. Her legs were tangled in the sheets and Tessy was stretched out on the bed beside her. In the end, she propped herself up as best she could because the mattress was old and soft, and she reached over Tessy to switch on the bedside lamp. The clock on her phone told her it was gone 2 a.m.

Please don’t let it thunder, she prayed. Like Denise, she’d always hated thunder.

The storm wasn’t helping, but it wasn’t the main reason why Marnie could not sleep.