He’d been on a high when the two of them had left Dublin, telling Caroline how important she was, how special. She had been taken aback at first, upset. That had been quite disconcerting, not at all what he had expected. She was concerned, obviously, but he had told her there was no need to fret. He would look after everything.
She hadn’t liked the house. He could see that from the beginning, the way her eyes had peered all around her, the rest of her body still. He’d put so much time and effort into taking her there, only for her to let him down. He knew it had been difficult for her to understand. Of course, he hadn’t let her response deter him. After all, if there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his determination and resolve.
Like Amelia, he had put her at her ease, explained everything would work out once she remained calm. All she needed to do was trust him. She did trust him. She’d told him she did when he’d asked her. A girl with such appreciation of emotion understands these things very well. Even when she’d cried, he hadn’t lost heart. His thoughts and feelings had been tested in the past, but he had never faltered. She must have felt a chill, shaking the way she did. He had even lit a small fire to ward off the old house’s draughts and made her cocoa, but instead of drinking it she’d just sat there, her face red and puffy, her eyes wild. The more upset she’d got, the more he’d started to question if he’d been right to take her there in the first place. The last thing he’d wanted was for her to think badly of him or, even worse, think he was one of those lowlifes who sought out innocent young girls for their own enjoyment.
If only she had understood. He had tried to explain things – but the more he’d explained, the more melodramatic she’d become, and the distress became so unsettling to him. He had no illusions about Amelia, but Caroline had been different. He’d had such high hopes for her. But in the end, it seemed, she had wanted to spoil everything too. What choice had he – the way she ran to the door like that? He’d had to stop her. Uncanny the way the hands on the Napoleon clock had struck six when she’d gone quiet, a straight line pointing north and south, cutting the white clock-face in two.
It was when she’d stopped that she’d been at her most beautiful. He’d already had the red ribbons in his pocket as a surprise for her, just like before. She hadn’t minded him plaiting her hair then. In fact, he’d got the sense of her smiling while he’d done it, and this had pleased him more than anything. When her body had hardened, he’d needed to fix her – she wouldn’t have felt anything at that point, her peaceful expression had remained constant throughout.
He regretted taking her to Cronly. It was wrong of him. The size of the house, not having told her about it, must have frightened her. More than most, he understood how someone so young could be in awe of such a strange place. But she’d had to be stopped once she’d started screaming. The second blow to the head had produced such a profusion of blood, but he was sure she hadn’t felt anything after that.
In his bedroom, the gentle sound of birdsong and the darkness eased his body and mind. What he regretted most of all was that he hadn’t had the chance to take Caroline to his hideout, down by the wonderful elderberry trees.
Ellie
DR EBBS IS LOOKING AT ME LIKE I’M A COMPLICATED puzzle he needs to solve. His elbows are resting on the desk, the fingers of his hands joined at the fingertips. There is a smudge on his glasses, and I have the strangest urge to take them from the end of his nose and clean them. Maybe my mind is playing tricks, drifting from the past to the here and now. I could get up and leave, tell him I no longer want to answer his questions. It wouldn’t be a lie. Re-living everything brings a clarity that has a habit of making tiny moments last forever.
‘You were undoubtedly in shock, Ellie. Perhaps at the time, when you were asked about how you found her, your shock prevented you giving the information correctly?’
‘Maybe.’
‘But later, why didn’t you mention it then – the ribbons, the way you found Amy? I find it incredible that no one asked you before this, or if they did and you’ve forgotten, that this is the first time it has fully come to light.’
‘Maybe I had my reasons for not clarifying things. Maybe I still do.’
‘You lost your daughter, Ellie. It must have been difficult.’
‘“Difficult” – that’s a handy word. Yes, difficult. It was difficult to accept my daughter was dead, it was even more difficult to know her killer was still out there.’
‘Had you ever spoken to this man?’
‘No, but I saw him.’
‘When?’
‘Soon after we arrived.’
‘At the caravan park in Wexford?’
‘Yes, near the beach.’
My mind drifts again to the road at the back of the sand dunes, the wild grasses, the smell of recently cut hay, a dirt track opening to a clearing.
‘And you said this to the police at the time?’
‘Yes. As I said, no one listened.’
‘I’m listening now.’
‘It’s not important now, not any more.’
‘Why do you think that?’