But then, she’d avoided this kind of search before, not feeling the need or desire to delve into the past.
Now, having woken with a headache and dry mouth, Lizzie reluctantly peeled herself from the comfortable double bed, stumbled to the tea tray on the unit in the corner and popped the kettle on. The names from the articles still swirled in her mind. Muriel Fisher’s had come as no surprise. Hers was one Lizzie did remember. And once she’d seen Reverend Farnley’s name, that too had sparked recall. But Nell Andrews wasn’t one she remembered. The problem was that Lizzie could never be sure if any of the memories she recalled were truly her memories, or ones she’d taken on and remembered from what other people had told her over the years. She wondered if she’d ever really know which were hers.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Lizzie called Dom. He’d only sent one text yesterday to which she’d replied a brief ‘all’s fine’, and she got the impression he was pissed off. She had upped and left at short notice. While he did understand her job might take her somewhere abruptly, usually she’d have at least spoken to him before leaving rather than merely leaving a brief note.
‘Hey, babe – so sorry for leaving in a rush.’ She got her apology in quickly, before he’d even said hello.
‘Well, I was disappointed when I got home to find you gone, and without a call, or even a text …’ His voice was distant, and it immediately set Lizzie on edge. She hated to think she’d upset him; hated the thought he was mad at her even more.
‘I know, I know. I didn’t have much time, sorry – once the decision was made, I didn’t want to hang around—’
‘Really, Lizzie? You took a few minutes at least to find the paper and write a note, but didn’t have time to hit your speed dial and call me? You know there’s a little button on your phone that means you can be hands free and everything, so you could have packed your bag whilst speaking to me or even called from the car.’ Sarcasm dripped from his words. Lizzie had no argument, so she said nothing. The silence stretched. She heard him sigh.
‘So, what was so urgent you had to rush off without so much as a by-your-leave?’
Lizzie took a moment to consider her choice of words. If she’d managed to carry out her plan to come clean about everything, Dom would now have been in possession of the facts and she wouldn’t feel the need to play this down. Or lie. But she hadn’t, and now – over the phone – was definitely not the right time.
‘It was a breaking news story, time-sensitive, and it sounded …’ She hesitated. ‘Beefy. I wanted it, that’s all, so had to rush to get here. It’s near Dartmoor, in Devon—’
‘Bloody hell, that’s a long way away – why on earth do you want to cover a story there?’
She felt she owed him some element of truth here. She took a deep breath.
‘Because once, a really long time ago … I lived here.’ Before Dom could question her on this statement, she added, ‘I can’t remember any of it, I was only little and it was for a very brief time. But it intrigued me enough to make me want to come back and look into it.’
Even to her, it sounded weak. But Dom didn’t press further, just asked exactly where she was. Lizzie gave him the name of the B&B and after a few minutes of general chat, she hung up.
After breakfast she was going to drive back into Mapledon and go to Brook Cottage Store to buy a few items. Stranger or not, if she wanted to make any headway, she had to speak to other villagers. She’d ask about Muriel Fisher – she might get away with saying she was a friend of the family. It was risky though, as, if she gave her name as Lizzie Brenfield – as she’d done to Anna yesterday – and they then spoke to Muriel, she would immediately say Lizzie was an imposter, a liar.
On the other hand, giving her real name would only open a big-arsed can of worms …
Wednesday 12th July – 1 week before
Auntie Tina made the best banana cake. It was one of the highlights of going over to Jonie’s after school.
‘You’re lucky there’s still some left – Miss Gannet Guts over there had almost half of it for breakfast!’ Tina said.
Bella laughed as she shovelled the slab of cake into her mouth, causing her to cough and send crumbs flying, making them all laugh harder.
‘Careful, don’t choke. How would I explain that to your mum?’
Jonie gave Bella a hard slap on the back even though she wasn’t coughing anymore. She moved away from her, saying she was fine. There had been no need for that. Bella thought it was just an excuse to whack her. She thought Auntie Tina noticed too, because she stopped laughing and stood in between them both, draping one arm over each of their shoulders.
‘You looking forward to the school holidays?’ Tina asked in a falsely bright way.
‘Um, hell yeah,’ Jonie said.
‘Watch your language,’ Tina said. But Jonie just rolled her eyes.
‘I’m not that bothered, really.’ Bella’s words drew a shocked glance from Tina and Jonie.
‘What? Are you for real?’ Jonie’s frown made her eyes go dark.
‘I don’t mind school – I like learning stuff.’
‘You’re such a square, Bella!’
‘No she isn’t, Jonie – don’t say things like that.’ Auntie Tina gave Bella a big smile. ‘It’s good to want to learn. Don’t let anyone put you off, love. Knowledge is power,’ she said, adding more quietly as she released her arms from them, ‘and your ticket out of this place.’
Before Bella could ask what she meant, the back door opened and a man’s head popped around.
‘Hello, ladies. How are you all on this fine afternoon?’
The girls giggled, as did Tina. ‘We’re good, Pat – what brings you here?’
Bella watched as the policeman emerged from behind the door, closed it and wiped his feet on the doormat. Everyone knew Officer Vern. He ‘kept an eye’ on Mapledon because he had lived in the village all his life; the place was too small to have its own police station. Bella thought it must be a boring job because nothing interesting ever happened. It seemed the most he’d ever had to do was tell kids off. And if she heard her dad say: ‘In my day, coppers could give you a clip around the ear and you’d behave yourself,’ one more time she’d puke.
As he leant back against the kitchen sink, she noted his tummy bulged slightly over the top of his black trousers. Bella concluded he hadn’t ever run after any baddies; he didn’t look like he got much exercise at all. He smiled, then glanced at Auntie Tina; he hadn’t answered her question, but he seemed to be waiting for something.
