BooksBarbecue
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

‘I know what they found up at the old holiday park this morning and I know that’s why you’ve come back. I understand the kind of books you write and I don’t want my guesthouse featured in any of them. I don’t want to see my name in print. I don’t want to be quoted without my permission. I don’t want any funny business.’

‘Of course not.’

‘I don’t want you mentioning our Daisy either. That poor girl’s been through enough as it is.’

‘You have my word, I won’t mention her.’

‘Right. Well, then. That’s it. I’ll leave you to it. You’ll find me downstairs if you need me.’

With that, the old man pulled the door shut behind him, and left.

9

Last summer, when Lucy was twelve, Marnie had ironed her daughter’s jodhpurs and a cotton polo shirt and polished her riding boots, brushed her hair and fastened it into a bun at the back of her head and the two of them had walked to the Big House. Marnie stood back while Lucy knocked on the door. Mr deVillars had answered, and Lucy had asked politely if there were any jobs she could do at the holiday park during the school holidays. He’d asked if she liked animals and when she said she did, he’d winked at Marnie over Lucy’s head and said: ‘Fantastic! Our pets’ corner is short of a keeper and frankly I was wondering how we were going to manage!’

So Lucy had spent the summer caring for the park’s rabbits, guinea pigs, two lambs and a goat; cleaning out their pens and enclosures, feeding them, and talking to the visiting children who asked questions about their care. With Mr deVillars’ encouragement, she’d taken her own pony, Scrumpy, to the park, and given rides to young holidaymakers, leading the pony around the park’s perimeter while the children sat on top holding onto the pommel of the saddle, their parents hovering nervously at their side. Scrumpy had been bored witless but enjoyed the carrots, apples and polo mints with which he was liberally rewarded. By the end of the season he resembled, more than ever, one of the pot-bellied ponies in the Thelwell illustrations Lucy liked to copy and pin to her bedroom walls. Marnie had been proud of her daughter and it was an easy summer for her, knowing where Lucy was and that she was doing something constructive and safe.