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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

As she hefted the water bucket into Seashell’s stable, Marnie remembered that delicate, square box even though she hadn’t thought about it in years. She remembered because of the joy she’d felt when Will passed it to her because she had believed it to be a present for her. Her tenth birthday had been and gone a few weeks earlier, the first birthday since her mother’s death, and although Angharad had sent a card and a gift of a cardigan from her Freeman’s catalogue there’d been nothing from Will. ‘I’ll buy you something later,’ he’d promised.

Now, with the box in her hands, Marnie looked up at him hopefully, he was swimming in the haze of the heat like a mirage. He’d nodded. ‘Go on,’ he’d said, his eyes bright, grinning broadly, ‘open it!’

Marnie had prised open the lid with her thumb, leaving a dirty smear on the box, but never mind. Inside the box, nestling in a cleft of pale pink silk, was a necklace: a silver chain threaded through the link attached to the top of a small silver swallow charm and next to the swallow, a silver letter ‘A’.

Marnie hooked a grubby finger under the silver chain and it trickled over her skin, sending fragments of light dancing. It was light as air; the prettiest thing Marnie had ever seen.

But ‘A’. Marnie looked at the letter, trying to work out what it represented. ‘A?’

‘For Alice!’ Will leaned forward, his eyes bright. ‘What do you think? Do you think she’ll like it?’

Marnie Morahan, aged ten years and two months, had had to use all her resources not to let the disappointment show on her face.

Twenty-four and a half years ago it was. All that time gone, all that water flowed under the bridge, and now the necklace that had been lost with Alice had been found and Will Jones was back in Severn Sands. Had he come to watch and listen, to find out what people were saying about Alice’s death? To see what they knew?

Or had he come to check on Marnie? To make sure that she had kept his secrets. To make sure she’d keep them still.

21

Will had stayed up late, writing down his experiences of the evening: meeting Marnie, seeing the ghostly figure of Camille deVillars in the holiday park, going back to Blackwater House, and every detail that he could remember of the photograph he’d noticed tucked amongst dozens of other family pictures on the bookshelves in the living room.