was a small sigh, then some rustling.
‘Hi, Anna.’
James had obviously been in earshot and taken over the call.
‘Is she all right? She sounds upset with me.’
‘She’s fine, really. You know what she’s like. I’ve got the cinema booked for later – she’ll forget about you abandoning her then.’
‘Really? God, James, you know I wouldn’t have asked you to have her unless it was important!’
‘Yeah, sorry. I know. Anyway, what was so urgent you had to actually go to Mapledon? Didn’t think anything would drag you back there.’
‘I’m not sure what’s going on, actually. I think Mum might be going a bit senile.’
‘Oh, fantastic. Are you sure? What makes you think that?’
‘A few things, but I haven’t got time to talk now really. I have to go to the shop. Look, I think I’m going to be here all weekend. Are you happy to keep Carrie?’
‘Of course. No problem. Stay as long as you need.’
‘Thanks, James. I appreciate it. Not that I want to be here for a second longer than absolutely necessary.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ There was a pause before he added, ‘Take care there, Anna.’
Coldness spread its icy branches inside her; his words triggering old anxiety, old memories. The ones she didn’t want to let in.
Keeping her gaze forward, Anna walked into Brook Cottage Store – Mapledon’s only shop. Immediately, she was transported back to her childhood. How on earth had it stayed virtually the same for all these years? Anna walked past the pick-and-mix shelves – memories of filling a brown paper bag with penny sweets sweeping through her mind – and headed for the fridges. She quickly moved along the aisles, cramming stuff in her basket as she went. She didn’t want to be in the shop for too long. The longer she was there, the more likely someone might recognise her; stop her and ask unwanted questions.
Anna heard more voices now, the shop suddenly filling up. She checked her phone for the time. Nine a.m. Damn, she hadn’t timed her visit well – the villagers of Mapledon were beginning their day. After checking her mother’s list one last time, Anna popped in a jar of coffee and headed for the checkout. There were two counters with tills. That was different. Back when she was a child, there’d been just the one till and the owner of the shop, Nell Andrews, was always the one behind it. Now it seemed she’d upgraded, although it appeared only the one till was currently in use. Anna assumed Nell must’ve retired. That was something at least. The person serving was probably younger, new. Wouldn’t know who Anna was.
There were several people ahead of her in the queue. Sweat formed on her upper lip. Be quick, hurry up. She tried to keep her head lowered, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. She might well know these people, but she wasn’t interested in them, their lives – wasn’t interested in ‘catching up’ with any of their news. She could hear the low murmur of conversation in front of her. Two women in the line were turned towards each other, baskets touching as they spoke. Anna could hear their supposed hushed chatter.
‘Can you believe it? I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘Everyone is horrified, Ali. The whole village is in shock.’
Anna turned her head, one ear towards the gossiping couple.
‘Her poor mother, though. How the hell must she feel?’
Anna’s heart hammered against her ribs, a sudden sensation of falling overcoming her. She popped her basket on the floor and put her hand on the bread stand to steady herself.
‘Oh, I know. I really feel for them. But surely he won’t come back here?’
‘I don’t think the villagers would allow it. And anyway, there’s nothing for him here.’
‘But what if we see him? Can you imagine if he were to walk into this shop now, or he moved back into that bungalow? It has been standing empty all these years.’
The queue surged forwards and the women stopped talking as they were served. Anna’s saliva had dried, her mouth moistureless. The women could be talking about anyone. Twenty years of things Anna had no clue about had gone on in this village. The likelihood they were talking about that particular event was slim, she convinced herself.
Until she reached the till.
At the side of the counter was the newspaper rack. The same position it had always been. Her eyes were drawn to the headline of the Herald Express.
MAPLEDON MURDERER RELEASED.
The noises in the shop faded. All Anna could see was the newspaper, the bold capital letters boring into her brain.
‘Everyone’s up in arms about it. The whole village.’ A male voice finally penetrated her thoughts.
‘When?’ Anna’s single word was strangled with fear.
‘Four days ago,’ the man said, taking the items from Anna’s basket and scanning them. ‘No one’s spotted him, yet. Mind you, I guess no one knows what he looks like now. But he wouldn’t dare come back here. Mum said he’d be a fool to. She wouldn’t serve him, she said.’
Anna didn’t respond at first, her thoughts crashing against each other, tumbling in her head. She fumbled in her purse and paid for the shopping with her debit card. Looking properly at the man behind the counter, she realised he was Nell Andrews’ son, Robert – his hair had receded, and his face was thinner than she remembered.
‘Has your mum retired?’ Anna asked, not because she was interested, more because she wanted to take a minute or two to recover before attempting to walk out of the shop.
‘God, no. She’ll be here until the end of time. I’ve just been covering – she’s a bit under the weather at the moment. She’ll be back!’ The man gave a wide grin. Anna assumed he hadn’t recognised her and was grateful for this good fortune – a ‘wow, it’s been years’ conversation wasn’t one she wanted now. Or ever. She thanked him and left, his words echoing in her mind: ‘Four days ago. No one’s spotted him yet.’
Four days ago. The same period of time her mother hadn’t left the house.
The vision of Muriel’s front door swam in front of her eyes.
And the doll’s head hammered to it, its relevance now achingly obvious.
All her good intentions of sitting Dom down, telling him about her past, went out of the window with one phone call. Now it would have to wait.
Lizzie
