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Back The Scarlet Dress
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

Saoirse turned and left the room, closing the door loudly behind her and Will felt guilty for a moment but not guilty enough to go after her. They’d been together for eighteen months, which was towards the top end of the length of any of Will’s relationships. Lately, Will had developed the suffocated feeling he always had when heading towards a break-up. When this feeling manifested itself, there was little point prolonging the agony. Will and whoever-she-was may as well get it over and done with, go their separate ways. And right now he absolutely needed to prioritise his emotional energy for Alice and Alice’s murderer. He didn’t want his feelings for Saoirse, or anyone, to get in the way of that.

* * *

In a heartbeat, Will’s mind flipped back to Alice.

She was gone, but she still felt so present that she might have been sitting beside him on the train, a small, fidgety presence, with her bangles and her earrings, her Lennon sunglasses, her ankle chain, her tattoo. What would become of this ever-present, pestering, laughing little ghost now? Would she disappear? And if she did, what would be left for Will? What would be left of him?

3

After the scarlet dress was found at the side of the estuary it seemed that the theory that Alice had drowned was correct. Marnie believed it too.

She had gone down to the shore many times as a child and thrown flowers into the water. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she was certain she could feel Alice close by. Occasionally, she even caught glimpses of Alice’s face in the mist shape-shifting over the estuary, or the reflections echoed across its expanse. Often, she dreamed of Alice, and in her dreams the sea and Alice were the same entity. It had mostly been a comfort. If Alice was part of the estuary, then she still existed; she was not wholly gone.

But none of it had been true; not the feelings, not the glimpses, not the dreams. Alice had never left the holiday park. She’d been abandoned there like a piece of rubbish, as if she meant nothing.

Marnie had almost reached the junction with the lane that would take her and the dogs home when a chunky maroon car pulled up at the roadside. The passenger-side door opened and a blonde woman climbed out.

‘Excuse me,’ the woman called, ‘can I have a quick word?’

Marnie felt the usual panic about how to convey the fact that she couldn’t talk. She and the blonde had made eye contact so she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t noticed. She waited for the woman to catch up. She was glamorous, heavily made-up. Strands of hair kept sticking to her lips. She brushed them away and smiled but at the same time her eyes moved up and down over Marnie’s body, taking in her appearance, categorising her; labelling her what? Goth? Bumpkin? Weirdo?