Then She Vanishes(71)

Old mates? I want to laugh in his face.

‘Yep, just chatting, don’t worry,’ I lie. I won’t have any qualms in using what he tells me if I need to. I owe him nothing.

Dylan’s eyes dart towards the house and he grimaces. ‘I haven’t seen Norman in years. I’m sure he’s a reformed man. Or perhaps not. I don’t know.’ His expression changes and he looks sad. ‘Me and Flora, we were kids. I know we wouldn’t have lasted. But I’ve carried the guilt for all these years, wondering if I could have done something. I should have made sure she got home okay … but I left her there.’

I frown, trying to keep up. ‘Left her where?’

He chews his lip and has the good grace to look ashamed. He hangs his head. ‘In London. We went there for the day. But while we were there we had a huge row and came back separately. Went to the fair. There’s witnesses to put me there. I’m not lying.’ His blue eyes flash. ‘But I should have seen her home. She disappeared from the bus stop back in Tilby. Did you know that?’

‘Yes. I read it at the time.’

‘A family drove past and saw her walking past the clock tower. It was less than ten minutes from her home.’

‘I know.’

‘She came home safely from London.’

I stare at him, appalled. Does that make it better? Because she hadn’t disappeared in London after he’d left her there? I should have told someone. I should have told Heather the truth, or just stopped Flora going. If she’d been in Tilby she wouldn’t have been at the bus stop, and she wouldn’t have been walking along the high street, alone at night. She might still be alive and Heather wouldn’t have ruined her life trying to get revenge.

Dylan groans. ‘And now this.’

I frown. ‘What?’

‘Clive.’ He covers his face with his hands. Is he crying? ‘It’s my fault,’ he says, through his fingers. ‘He must have killed her because of me.’





38




August 1994


Flora shoved a twenty-pound note into a beaded fabric purse. It was all the money she had. She wasn’t allowed to touch her savings. They were sitting in her building-society account waiting until she was old enough to buy her first car, her mum always said. And it wasn’t as if she was running away. No, it was just a day trip. She’d be back by dark. Before anyone worked out that she was gone.

Her mum was so busy with the caravan park that she wouldn’t notice where she was. Just as long as she returned home at the normal time, all would be well. She would have asked Heather to cover for her, but she still wasn’t talking to her sister. She was furious with her for almost splitting up her and Dylan. Almost. But it hadn’t worked.

When she’d seen that girl kissing him she’d been incensed. And then, much to her delight, he’d pushed her away. He had his back to her so she couldn’t see his face, but the girl looked dejected, stepping away from him and folding her arms across her chest, her pouty lips turned down. ‘You know I’ve got a girlfriend,’ she’d heard him say, and then he must have sensed Flora watching because he turned, his face falling when he realized she had seen. He must have thought she was about to flounce off in a huff. But, no, she wouldn’t give that hussy the satisfaction. Instead she’d marched right up to Dylan and flung her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. When she opened her eyes the girl had gone.

They were invincible. Nobody could come between them.

And now this. London. She was so excited last night she hardly slept.

They planned to meet by the clock tower at 6.30 a.m. to get the bus into Bristol. From there they had booked a Stagecoach to London. Only ten pounds for a return trip, and Dylan had kindly paid for her. She was still unsure exactly why Dylan was so desperate to go to London, or what he planned to do when they got there, but she didn’t care. She’d never been to London before. A whole day with the love of her life. She imagined them wandering around Trafalgar Square or Hyde Park, hand in hand. It was going to be so romantic and it would be such a relief to be away from Tilby, the fair and that idiot, Speedy, who seemed to be hanging around more and more often, these days.

Despite the early hour the sun was already out, and she could hear the cockerel crowing from the farm next door. A shiver of anticipation ran through her. She dressed quickly in her favourite sleeveless ivory blouse, with the lace collar and a blood-red ankle-length skirt with tassels at the hem, slipping on her mood stone necklace that Dylan had bought for her. It was a deep blue. Happy. And then she crept out of her bedroom, her rucksack on her back, and padded down the landing, her black DM boots in her hand. She knew her mum would be up already, mucking out the horses with Sheila. Uncle Leo should still be in bed. He was a late riser and didn’t normally emerge until gone nine.

She tiptoed past Heather’s room. Her door was half closed and she could just see the edge of the camp bed on the floor where Jess was sleeping. The girl hardly ever seemed to be at home. A floorboard creaked under her foot and she paused, waiting to see if she had woken anybody. She was just about to continue towards the staircase when she heard a movement behind her. She froze, and turned slowly. Jess was standing at the entrance to Heather’s room in a Snoopy nightshirt, her hair standing on end, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

‘What’s going on?’ she whispered.