The Fenton Saga: Never Say Goodbye / There Was No Body.

by Colin Griffiths

  Never Say Goodbye

  A Novel

  By

  Colin Griffiths

  2014

  Chapter 1

  It was midsummer 1989. Blackpool was bustling, full of hen parties, stag nights, people on their annual holidays. The great British weekend away, and it was raining.

  Always rained in Blackpool, Bill thought, always bloody rained.

  The north of England was known for its wet weather, in spite of it having one of the biggest and most popular holiday resorts which, at one time, held the tallest roller coaster in the world. Blackpool had been neglected over the years, along with the rest of the north of England, in an industrial decline, but although in decline it still remained Britain’s most popular holiday resort.

  Both he and Carol were walking along the sea front, the famous Blackpool promenade. Trams were bustling alongside them. The UK’s only surviving first generation tramway on their left, transporting holidaymakers from one destination to another.

  As Carol walked with Bill, she was excited about where they were going. She had a feeling inside her that something big was about to happen. Something good. She hadn't been to Blackpool since she was a child, except for five years ago, and again this weekend. This visit seemed to have brought out the child in her, again.

  Bill was grumpy, well he was always grumpy; it seemed to be the only mood he knew. Maybe having an unhappy childhood made him that way. He didn't know, but he found it hard work to be happy. He hated smiley people, those that always had a smile on their face.

  Carol smiled a lot, but she could also be fiery. Bill was moaning inside himself now, about the amount of money this weekend had cost.

  Okay, the bed and breakfast was cheap enough, but £3 for a poky hotdog!

  When most of it lay in the gutter, where he had dropped it covering the only coat he had with him (the only one he owned) with mustard and ketchup. Carol had wiped it off, but you could still see the stain it had left. Carol had laughed and offered him half of her hotdog.

  ‘I’ll starve,’ he sarcastically, said.

  ‘Oh you’ll waste away.’ Replied the giggling Carol.

  Bill had wanted to spend the money on a fishing trip for him and his five-year-old son Daniel, and then spend some time with his mates at the football, before going out on the lash. Then maybe smoke a bit of dope, cop off with some slag from Newport, just get wasted and have some fun.

  Bill loved to take Daniel fishing. He sniggered to himself as he remembered his son struggling as he caught his first trout, the look of excitement on his face as they reeled it in. The look of utter disbelief as he gutted the fish.

  Fishing would have been so much better, fishing and then getting wasted.

  Bill was here for Carol, the only girl he ever had feelings for. Was it love? He wasn't sure what that was, having felt very little of it in his own life, but he loved what Carol gave him. He was unsure what it actually was. He felt secure with Carol. She made him feel safe. Life was good, he had a trophy wife and a trophy son.

  As they walked, Carol had popped into the arcade to use the toilet, the third time she had been since they set out. This was annoying Bill. This time he had promptly bought five donuts from a stall, giving the seller a growl as he paid. He scoffed all five before Carol had returned. Carol had pretended not to notice the sugar around his mouth, on her return.

  ‘I bet your starving,’ she had said to him ‘there’s a donut store there. Would you like me to get you some?’

  Bill looked at the donut stand, seeing the overweight seller serving up another lashing of donuts to some children.

  ‘No, I'm fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait till later.’

  ‘I do hope she's there. It’s been four years since we last saw her,’ mumbled Carol as they walked. Carol, taking in the seven miles of sandy beach, watching the children playing, and the trams passing, she felt like a little girl today and was loving it.

  ‘Five,’ Bill replied.

  ‘Uh,’

  ‘It’s been five years. You were pregnant, remember? That’s why we’re here.’ Scowled Bill.

  ‘Of course it is. How could I forget?’ She paused, ‘It would be so lovely to have a daughter, Bill. A little sister for Daniel. I really think she made it happen last time.’

  ‘Of course it would.’ replied Bill, thinking it really was all bullshit. Just another dose of Blackpool bullshit.

  She put her arm in his as they walked, her face beaming with excitement and anticipation of what was ahead. It made Bill feel good, having this beautiful petite lady on his arm. He treated her as if she was his trophy to parade. Maybe that’s what she is to me, my own human trophy.

  A grin of satisfaction formed on his face.

  ‘I just so hope she's there.’ Carol excitedly, repeated.

  ‘She’ll be there.’ said Bill, ‘Ripping off people, for a few years yet.’

  They both smiled as they walked, happy, content and very, very wet as the rain still fell and the wind blew. The sea looked murky as the waves pounded the beach. The beach was not empty in spite of the weather. Children still played, and people walked their dogs, Blackpool was like that, whatever the weather, it never deterred holiday makers. The three piers were very busy as people held on to their hats and umbrellas. It felt more like a November day, but this was not stopping people enjoying the sights of Blackpool. The place was heaving.

  Earlier on they had been to the pier, when the rain had eased for a little while. They had gone to the central pier, as this was regarded as the best. However, there was so much pushing and shoving that they had decided to head to Marie Rose earlier and visit the pier later, weather permitting.

  This suited Carol down to the ground as all she really wanted to do was visit Marie Rose. After all, that was the only reason they had come to Blackpool. They would give the waxworks a miss, perhaps go tomorrow. When they had tried to visit the waxworks, the queue was immense, and at that time they didn't fancy queuing in the wet.

  Standing outside the waxworks entrance, was a life sized wax model of Simon Cowell. Carol had insisted she had at least four pictures taken standing beside the waxworks model. Bill didn't get it. ‘It’s a wax model for shit’s sake.’ he had said, but he had assured her that everyone would think she was stood by the real Simon Cowell, as it had looked so life-like. Carol had told Bill, that when people saw the photos they would think she was with him.

  Will the real Simon Cowell please stand up? Bill thought to himself and smiled.

  It was five summers earlier, on the same weekend trip to Blackpool, the same Blackpool, that Hitler had bombed in 1940. The same grotty bed and breakfast. The same hideous rain that seemed to stick to the north side of the British Isles like glue. The same sea front as they walked along now, though neither of them could remember, if Simon was outside the waxworks that long ago. Somehow they doubted it.

  ***

  Yes, five years ago, in what was not much more than a tent on the sea front, surrounded by queuing customers was Marie Rose. Blackpool's finest clairvoyant, at a ridiculous £2 a go for ten minutes, £3.50 for couples. Yes, your future dreams and aspirations will be unfolded in Marie Rose’s famous crystal ball.

  That’s at least £12 an hour, Bill had thought, not bad for a bag full of bull shit.

  ‘This is a waste of money,’ he had told Carol at the time, but Carol had pleaded and pleaded, and she gave Bill her puppy dog eyes look, a look she knew that he could just not refuse. Carol never overused that look, but certainly knew when to use it to her full advantage. She also knew how to play Bill and this time it had worked out very well.
/>
  The young couple had set up home together and married. They fell for each other at a barn dance in Newport, South Wales, where Bill had put his hand up Carol’s blouse. She had slapped him and called him ‘a bloody pervert’. No one hit Bill Fenton, without facing the consequences. His reputation as a hard man and a nutter, which had grown over the years, was not to be reckoned with. He was feared by many. Maybe that’s what attracted Carol. After that day’s events, she would never really know what attracted her to him. Bill had simply laughed at the slap, apologised and bought her a drink. He won her over that night, and they had been together ever since and now they stood at the place that Carol wanted to visit so much.

  After four minutes of complete nonsense and the clairvoyant telling them stuff about when they hurt themselves as kids ‘What kid didn't,’ Bill had said. If only she knew. Bill had insisted that they leave and demanded his money back, saying that it was complete rubbish and she should be taken to the trade’s description act, or whatever act they took dodgy clairvoyants to. It was straight after his tirade Marie Rose blurted out those words that changed their life forever.

  ‘You’re pregnant and it’s going to be a boy,’ she had said.

  ‘Bloody rip off,’ Bill responded as he stomped towards the exit, not really listening anymore to the dodgy clairvoyant.

  ‘Shut up Bill, you’re demanding nothing. Why have you always got to spoil things?’ said Carol as she dragged Bill by the sleeve, back into the tent. He was strong, but he didn’t resist. Turning her gaze to the clairvoyant, their eyes met.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Carol asked.

  Marie Rose looked stone faced at the two of them.

  ‘Yes my dears.’ she said without breaking her expression. ‘You are bearing a baby boy; you are going to have a son.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Carol had asked.

  ‘It’s in the ball.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘It never lies.’

  ‘A load of balls to me.’ Bill had shouted.

  They both then left the clairvoyant, Bill shouting about what a rip off it all was, and how he was going to sue her. Carol left in stony silence. She was thinking about what she had just been told, she was feeling scared at that time.

  A child. A baby boy. How would they cope? Or more like, how would Bill cope? She had never regarded him as the fatherly type and in a strange way, though she wanted children desperately, she somehow thought it wouldn't be with Bill.

  Chapter 2

  Those five summers ago, immediately after leaving the clairvoyant Marie Rose, in her dodgy tent on the sea front, Carol had nipped into a chemist to buy a home pregnancy test kit. Bill was thinking at the time, that Carol was going to use it in the shop; such was her eagerness to find out. She told him not to be so silly and headed back to the b & b. Carol ran all the way back, a good mile away. Bill had come in two minutes later. When he got there, Carol was already in the bathroom, and sure enough, a ‘quick piss on a stick,’ as Bill called it, there it was. What Marie Rose had already told her, Carol indeed was pregnant?

  How they hugged, kissed and laughed. It was probably the greatest Blackpool weekend they had ever spent.

  ‘It’s fuck all to do with her though,’ Bill had proclaimed ‘if she tells everyone that, she's bound to get one right!’

  Deep down Bill was impressed. His life was beginning to take on a meaning; the next five years would be his happiest ever.

  He never heard any voices. He never heard his father. That day, deep down, Bill was impressed.

  ‘Marie Rose, I love you!’ he had shouted, dancing on the bed, and they laughed until Carol wet herself, thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  ‘Fucking hell! She’s got a gypsy caravan now.’ Bill said, as he could see it in the distance. It was just past the tower, big letters announcing: ‘Blackpool's most famous clairvoyant, no extravagance spared.’

  ‘She must have earned a few quid since we last saw her, ripped off a few million, I reckon. How many people visit Blackpool each year, and each one a £2 rip-off?’

  Carol wasn't listening. She ran ahead, almost pushing people away.

  ‘She's here!’ she cried.

  Bill laughed at her eagerness. Some people turned to stare at her, one man giving her a glaring look, as she brushed past him. Bill wanted to punch his lights out, but he always did when it came to his Carol. He watched her legs skipping along, remembering the first time they met, and how she had not changed one bit. Still that hidden child inside her. He loved that about her. How lucky he was to have her. How she had put him on the straight and narrow. Who knows where I would be now, if not for her. He felt like he could give and receive all the love in the world, a feeling that would never return after today’s events.

  Carol had reached the caravan, and she looked behind her to see Bill lagging in the distance. She started jumping up and down, waving, and beckoning Bill to hurry up. As they approached each other, both were smiling. Carol briefly reflecting that it was his smile which had first won her over at the barn dance. His smile and his charm. He very rarely smiles, but when he does it lights up my world.

  Suddenly Bill’s expression changed to shock. His smile turned into a frown. His eyes wide, his mouth open. Carol felt concern at the sudden change. She knew how his moods could suddenly change. She didn’t want a mood now.

  Please not today!

  Bill put his hand to his mouth and gave what appeared to be a gasp.

  ‘Five fucking quid!’ he said.

  Carol laughed as Bill took his place beside her in the queue.

  ‘A fucking queue!’ he said.

  They knew Carol wasn't pregnant this time, as she had taken a test only yesterday, the day before they arrived at Blackpool. The purpose of the visit was that Carol was convinced that the clairvoyant would be able to tell them the sex of their next child. Carol so wanted a girl.

  Bill thought it was a stupid idea. She had got lucky last time. No person in the world could tell the sex of a child that hadn’t even been conceived. Of course there was always a fifty per cent chance you would get it right. They had been taking precautions. Bill’s work at the warehouse had dropped to three days a week and, although it looked like things were beginning to pick up. Carol wanted to make sure, and try again, when Bill was on full time and the money wouldn’t be so tight. When her mother offered to take Daniel to Malta with them, she missed two weeks rent, and organised this trip as some ‘us’ time.

  She had said ’The council can wait for their rent.’

  She had never missed the rent before, but she controlled the household bills and knew she could make it up, and there was always her parents. She never liked to ask them for anything, but knew it was there if she needed it. Bill had never been convinced about Marie Rose’s abilities, constantly reminding Carol that if she was really that good, then why would she be working in Blackpool at £2 a time?

  They were now next in line. They both had to admit that the gypsy-style caravan was a great improvement from the previous time they had visited, and it looked quite convincing, ‘And it’s best to be convincing when you’re conning the British Public.’ Bill had thought.

  ‘Come on in, my dears,’ said the old lady, as they walked up the two caravan steps and entered the caravan through two small double doors.

  The old lady was sitting there in her glitter, the caravan spruced up with heather, candles, and mysterious figures of serpents and ghouls. Carol recognised her, thinking she hadn’t changed much. In fact, she hadn’t changed at all, just less scary now.

  Marie Rose put her hand on her crystal ball and looked up at Bill and Carol.

  ‘Hello my dears,’ she said, then, after a slight pause, and a stare that felt deep and meaningful, ‘how’s Daniel?’

  Bill stood there, unable to say anything for a moment. The look on his face was one of shock. His head started to suddenly spin, as if the old lady was controlling it, making his head all fuzzy, then the voices would c
ome back and he didn’t want that. He didn't want the voices back. This shouldn't be happening, she should not have said that, the stupid lady. How the fuck does she know his name?

  ‘He's fine,’ Carol replied. ‘He's in Malta with his grandparents.’

  Bill put both of his hands on his head. My head’s going to explode. Is this really happening? She's talking to the old woman as if she's asked the most natural question in the world. He tried to speak, but no words appeared. Bill Fenton very rarely felt fear, on that day, he really felt scared. Bill shook his thoughts away, vigorously shaking his head and looked at the witch woman straight in the eyes.

  ‘How the fuck, do you know his name?’ He put his face close to hers, strangely trying to guess her age and putting her at sixty. Marie Rose was in fact fifty-one.

  Marie Rose just sat expressionless, not shocked, more dismayed at Bill’s attitude. Her stare did not leave his eyes.

  ‘Well, bitch?’ Bill threatened.

  ‘Bill!’ Carol shouted ‘Don't be so rude. She was only asking how he was.’

  Then it dawned on her that the clairvoyant had actually used their son’s name.

  The clairvoyant turned her gaze to Carol ‘Would you like a reading?’

  ‘Fuck no.’ said Bill.

  Hang on, Bill, she's a clairvoyant. She knows his name. That’s all, that’s what they do.’

  Bill, freaked out by this, stared at Carol. No puppy dog eyes, not today, do whatever eyes you want we’re getting out of here.

  ‘We’re going now!’ Bill said, grabbing Carol by the arm, pinching her skin, causing her to wince in pain. ‘We’re leaving now!’ he shouted.