by Peter Martin
‘Ok, but let’s not spend too much time looking for clues. I know what you’re like, if you get a bee in your bonnet, it’ll take forever,’ she said, pulling a funny face.
‘Come on Delia, let’s be serious about this. This is my mother and father we’re talking about here. It’ll mean everything to me if I find something out, perhaps even meet them. I need to know how I came to be adopted.’
‘Of course love, I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s easy to get carried away with this place, and living a life of luxury. We’ll do what you want – all right. What do you have in mind?’ She asked looking a little guilty.
‘I’m not sure, but I’ve pondered over this for a while. To my way of thinking, this is where I was adopted either legally or illegally unless someone kidnapped me. Although I find it hard to believe mum or dad would have played a part in that! So I reckon we ought to go down the legal adoption route first. Surely there are adoption societies here and they must hold past records.’
‘You’ve really thought this out Garry, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, well I’ve had to. I intend to see it through to the end, so if we don’t find any legal records, I shall try the police in the hope they may hold details of any abductions etc. Then newspapers and library archives would be a good bet.’
‘So where’s our first stop?’
‘Well Deel, on second thoughts I might try the police station first, seeing as it’s the closest, maybe there’s something about me in their records.’
‘And where’s that?’
‘Not too far, about ten minutes at the most. I noticed it last night when we were walking around town.’
‘So that’s what you were looking for. Don’t forget, I don’t want to spend the entire holiday searching records.’
‘No, no of course not.’ He agreed, trying to placate her. ‘But, at least, it’s saved us searching for it.’
After breakfast, they walked out of the hotel and made their way towards the Police Station, a small red brick building that stood a few yards away from the opening to the shopping mall.
As he stood outside the building, Garry took a deep breath to pluck up enough courage to go inside. And holding Delia’s hand tightly they walked through the doors to see a fat grey haired man in a white uniform, sitting lazily at a desk, watching the world go by. Perhaps he needed a spectacular crime to brighten up his day, Garry thought and wondered if he’d want to be bothered by his little problem.
‘Hallo there,’ Garry said.
‘Good morning, sir, madam,’ he replied, in a deep voice. ‘How can I help you?’
‘Er… we wondered how far back your records of crimes go, in particular missing persons?’
‘How far back do you want to go, sir?’
‘About forty years.’
The policeman’s eyebrows rose slightly upon hearing this. ‘If it’s an unsolved crime, even if it was that long ago, there should be a file about it somewhere.’
‘I’m not even sure it is a crime. This missing person was a little boy about three or four years old. I can’t give you any names or exact dates, except that he would have gone missing forty years ago, and was never seen again. It might have been in the newspapers.’
‘Well now, that would have been big news, but having lived here all my life, I can’t remember anything, although I would have only been about ten years old at the time. That’s not to say it never happened. But I have to ask why you are interested in this?’
‘It’s personal since I have a strong suspicion I’m the boy in question.’
‘Oh, I see. Better give me a few details then, and we’ll look into it for you.’
Garry went through everything he knew, which the police officer painstakingly took down in his notebook. They left the police station with the policeman’s assurance he’d be in touch in due course.
‘What do you think, Deel?’ Garry said once they were outside.
‘I don’t like to dishearten you, but I don’t think anything will come of this.’ She nodded towards the police station. ‘But perhaps I’m wrong. So where shall we go now? How about a bite to eat?’
‘Sure, but let’s visit the hospital first? It’s only a few minutes away, and they might have a record of a young boy being brought in injured, all those years ago. I promise it won’t take long. Then this afternoon after dinner we’ll go down to the beach.’
She agreed by saying, ‘Come on, let’s get on with it, if we must. But I’ll hold you to that.’
The hospital, the only one on Montriga was a whitewashed building, constructed around 1960, a fact confirmed by the date displayed in stone over the main entrance.
Once inside, they went to reception and asked for the Records Office, where the clerk was sympathetic, but pointed out that without the name of the person injured it would be difficult, if not impossible, to provide any information. And then, of course, came the question of patient confidentiality.
Garry didn’t think this was going to plan so he asked about adoption agencies on the island. Luckily she knew of two, one in Thame itself, the other in Roscoe, the second largest town. He guessed Delia wouldn’t want to go there straight away, but vowed at some stage in their holiday he’d visit them, alone if necessary.
Back outside in the full glare of the sun they walked across the road to find somewhere to eat. ‘That was a waste of time wasn’t it?’ Garry said feeling a bit disgruntled. ‘I suppose it’s as she says, it all boils down to whether the adoption societies are willing to release any information.’
‘We’ll see love. It depends on their rules. But if nothing turns up, what shall we do then?’
‘It might well be that the newspapers are our best hope, after all, if the policeman considered a missing child as ‘big news’ it would probably have been reported on the front page. Whatever happens I don’t intend giving up without a fight, because it’s bugging me why mum and dad kept it from me for so long. And while I know they were wonderful parents, I can’t help feeling annoyed with them.’
‘Let’s give this a bit of a rest now, eh Garry. Why don’t we spend the rest of the day down on the beach? You need to take your mind off things.’
‘You’re right. We’ll grab a bite to eat, change into something more suitable, and relax on that glorious beach.’
After eating in a café, they returned to their hotel, changed into swimming costumes and other suitable attire and set off for the beach. Taking the path from the rear of the hotel they made their way to what should have been a secluded spot exclusive to the patrons of the hotel. Unfortunately, it was heaving with people, their belongings, and various types of sunshades. However, having found a vacant spot they slapped sun cream on each other before lying back to soak up the sun. Garry sensed Delia loved every minute, but he felt ill at ease, unable to relax and forget ‘this adoption business’ as Delia called it. There were times when he wished his mother hadn’t mentioned anything to him. But with the number of shares left to him in the will and their value, he knew he’d have questioned how his parents’ had managed to own such large assets.
With so many thoughts swirling around in his head, he sat up, looked out at the calm sea, and the people enjoying themselves. And gazing around, at the huge palm trees, their leaves flapping in the breeze against the hills beyond, he had a sense of having been here before. At first, it was no more than a flashback but it definitely triggered something in his subconscious.
His pulse was racing; he had to get up. In his mind’s eye, a very tall man and a beautiful young woman were playing a game.
He left Delia and walked past the crowds of people as if being drawn to the sea. The closer he got, the more intense his feelings became. He remembered as a young child entering the water to try to reach his parents who he thought were swimming in the sea, but he slipped and became totally submerged into the water. But Garry was surprised by what happened next: amid the panic by a number of people on the beach, he just froze and for a few moments, couldn’t breathe,
as if his lungs were constricted. A weakness came over him, and he dropped to his knees shuddering as the cool water rippled around his lower legs. Then feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to see Delia standing by his side, a bewildered look on her face.
Tears came into his eyes when she asked ‘Garry, are you all right?’
‘What!’ he replied, grabbing hold of her arm. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What’s wrong Garry? I shouted and shouted you, but you didn’t seem to hear me.’
‘Sorry,’ he whispered, his whole body quivering with fear as he got to his feet. ‘It’s started coming back to me. I remember being here a long, long time ago. This is where it all happened. I nearly drowned in the sea…’Delia gazed at him in amazement as he continued, ‘Oh my God, I can still feel the sea water in my lungs and being unable to breathe. I couldn’t get to the surface, and blacked out. Someone must have seen me, and pulled me out of the water… saved my life…’ he smoothed down the hair at the back of his head.
‘What triggered the memory, Garry? Do you know?’
‘It started when we first came here, you know just after we arrived and went on the beach. And then today I had an odd feeling I’d been here before when in fact I knew I’d never visited this place – well I thought I hadn’t until now.’ He paused and raising his arm pointed, ‘Those palm trees over there, and the hills at the back. Look, the road zigzagging up, and that car almost hanging on to the edge of the cliff as it goes up.’
Then he turned saying, ‘This is scary, I’m going back to the hotel, I need a drink!’
On reaching the back entrance to the hotel he realised he’d stormed off without a thought for Delia and glanced back along the pathway to see her laden down with their beach luggage. He walked back and took some of the things from her.
‘Sorry for running off like that, Deel, I started to panic.’
She walked on without commenting, with a worried look on her face.
Back in their room, Garry went to the bathroom feeling queasy but having sat on the side of the bath for a few minutes, began to feel better. He freshened himself up, splashing cold water on his face, then went to look for Delia who was sitting on the bed. He joined her there taking hold of her hand.
‘Garry, I’m beginning to wonder if your adoption is worth all the hassle; having seen what it’s done to you.’
‘It’s difficult I know, but something inside me is making me go on,’ he insisted. ‘Sure it was upsetting, but it’s made the situation more realistic, to the point where it’s egged me on. I’m certain I’ve been here before, and now I feel better about carrying on.’
‘Do you remember anything else, before or after?’
‘Tell you the truth I don’t, but with everything that’s happened so far, after only a couple of days, who knows what bits will come back to me and then maybe I can piece it all together.’ For a while, he was lost in thought eventually saying, ‘You know I’ve always been aware that my memories of my childhood were vague at best, perhaps the trauma in my past and my natural defence system blocked them out.’
‘You’re probably right, but getting back to the here and now: can I get you anything?’ Delia asked him, leaning her head against his shoulder.
‘No, I’m fine, I just need to get to the bottom of all this, and if nothing comes of our search with the adoption people I shall visit the library. Surely they hold copies of old newspapers in their archives. Failing that I’ll contact the local press after all it must have been reported – ‘Boy Saved From Drowning’ – you know the sort of thing?’ Then adamantly he continued, ‘I’ll find out the truth Delia if it kills me, I will.’
‘But you don’t want to do all that today, do you?’ She said looking concerned.
‘No, of course not. I’ve had enough for one day. I need to lie down for an hour or two, I’m tired. In the meantime, why don’t you go shopping, buy yourself a dress from one of those shops you’ve been eyeing up? I’ll give you some money.’
‘I don’t like to on my own. I’d rather go with you because your opinion means a lot to me.’
‘Ok. I tell you what, we’ll go tomorrow, I promise. But right now I need to rest.’ He lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and was asleep not long afterwards.
<><><>
With no idea how long he’d been asleep and wondering what Delia had been doing, he looked around to see her sitting out on the balcony reading a magazine. Feeling groggy, he got up and walked over to the double doors.
‘Pretty fantastic view isn’t it.’ He said moving over to lean on the balcony.
‘Awesome, I’d say.’
‘Did you do anything in the end?’
‘No, I couldn’t be bothered – like I said before I wanted you to come. I’ll remind you tomorrow.’ She pinched his bottom, which made him yelp.
‘I know you will, love. Why don’t we go for a walk after dinner? It’s a lot quieter and cooler then, and we could have a drink as well. What do you reckon?’
‘Ok, that would be nice.’
Garry was glad of that. If he’d spoilt the day, hopefully, he could make it up to her.
They enjoyed a romantic walk to the beach and a drink in a bar close by, but still Garry’s mind was full of what had happened earlier. Once or twice he felt guilty for not listening to what Delia said. And hoped with any luck, she hadn’t noticed. His emotions were getting the better of him as he sought to solve the mystery. He didn’t want his relentless record searching to put a damper on their holiday, after all, he enjoyed Delia’s company. It was just that this… this… mania had taken over his every waking moment.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Garry woke late with a slight hangover, the result of a few beers too many, his solution to feeling a little sorry for himself. Well, he was paying for it now. To his surprise when he reached for Delia, she wasn’t there, and shouting her name provoked no answer. So he got up, showered, dressed and sat on the balcony waiting for her to return.
A few minutes later the door to their room opened and in she came wearing a swimming costume covered by a towelling gown.
‘Morning Deel, I see you were up bright and early.’
‘Yes,’ she said rubbing her hair with a towel. ‘I thought I’d take a leaf out of your book and go for a swim in the pool downstairs.’
‘Good for you. I don’t fancy swimming this morning, I feel a bit under the weather. That foreign beer was stronger than I realised.’
‘What’s the matter with you, Garry; can’t you take your booze anymore? Well, I didn’t have much less than you, and I’m as right as rain.’
‘All right, no need to go on. Although I don’t think I can stomach any breakfast now either. I might just have an orange juice,’ he told her, putting his hand to his forehead.
‘Oh dear, you poor thing.’
After getting dressed, they went downstairs, and while Delia ate a full continental breakfast, Garry only managed a piece of buttered toast and a fruit drink.
‘So what are we doing today?’ She asked.
‘Er... Have you got any suggestions?’
‘You did promise we could go out, to get that dress I’ve been looking for. But if you really want to visit the adoption societies first, I’ll come with you?’
‘I didn’t like to ask, and I know I promised, but it would nice to get this out of the way, wouldn’t it?’
‘It would, but I’d rather be enjoying myself. Although I’m intrigued by this too.’
‘All right, let’s see how we get on this morning, but this afternoon we’ll go somewhere nice, I promise.’
‘Ok fine,’ she smiled.
<><><>
After breakfast Garry hired a small family car having suggested they drive over to Roscoe first, thinking Delia might find it more enjoyable than traipsing around Thame yet again.
Roscoe, some fifteen miles away, was situated on the other side of the island. The drive was pleasant, but on their arrival, they found the town somew
hat of a disappointment; being made up of lots of old buildings cramped together. And although it had a tourist trade with the odd hotel here and there, it was on a much smaller scale. The tiny harbour busy with goods being offloaded, added to the impression of it being a ‘working village’ employing local people.
Having parked the car in one of the narrow roads leading to the harbour, they walked up to the main street; on past a petrol station, and a couple of grocery shops to a two storey brown brick building. The ground floor looked like a tourists’ gift shop, but displayed in the first-floor window above was a sign ‘Roscoe Adoption Society’. Access to the offices above was through the shop and up a flight of stairs. This led them to a poky landing of about four feet square with one frosted glass door bearing the words ‘Adoption Society’ in gold lettering. Delia knocked the glass pane lightly and they cautiously walked through the door to be greeted by a matronly lady with a jolly face, who introduced herself as Mrs Foley. After they’d sat down she made them a cup of tea and listened intently to what Garry had to say. Once he’d finished, she sat back in her chair, looking thoughtful.
‘Well, Mr and Mrs Flynn, if you don’t mind waiting, I’ll go through our records, see what I can come up with. Of course, if we have something in the records about you and the identity of your real parents, we won’t be at liberty to divulge their names. We can contact them on your behalf, and if they’re willing we’ll put you in touch. But it’s a big ‘if’. All right, let’s have a look and see what we can find. Please bear with me.’
She got up and went to the filing cabinets at the back of the room. There she flicked through a number of the files, going back and forward to the computer on her desk. Garry noticed she was careful not to leave any of the files open in front of them. Finally, she sat down to face them saying, ‘I’ve looked through our records for the years 1963, 64 and 65, but I’m afraid to have to tell you, I can’t find anything in those three years relating to you.’