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

by Colin Griffiths

  ‘It was for mugs.’ he would say.

  Vera just didn't understand the business he was in, and took little interest, but it was true to say she certainly enjoyed the financial rewards it had brought in. She had been a school teacher for a while, but retired early. They had been retired for five years now, not rich by any means, but Doug’s shrewd business head had given them a comfortable early retirement, with no mortgage worries and an extremely comfortable life. They had retired to a countryside bungalow just outside the capital city of Cardiff.

  Carol was their only daughter and they doted on her and Daniel.

  Daniel loved his mum and grandparents, and was an extremely well-behaved child. He was very intelligent for his age, and even at four and a half, you could see that he was going to have the strength and build of his father.

  Other than falling over and scraping knees or bumping his head like any other child, Daniel had never been ill in his short, and yet uneventful life. Not a cold, measles, chicken pox not even a headache. Not one day’s illness and at this point, I think it’s true to say that Daniel would never be ill, right up until the day he died.

  Yes! Daniel had gone quiet, Vera thought. Doug had noticed it too. They hoped that it was because he was missing his parents, and of course, they were right about that.

  Daniel was still playing in the sand on the beach close by, not really doing anything, just digging the same area with his little spade, filling the bucket up, pouring the sand out again, digging, filling, pouring, digging, filling, pouring.

  Do they think this is all I want to do? Why can't we go on a boat or look around the shops or something.

  Digging, filling, pouring, digging, and filling. He was sick of sandcastles and sand. He had wanted to bring some of his action figures with him, but his grandparents wouldn't let him, saying there was no room in the cases, and he would have plenty to do when he got there. How wrong they were.

  ‘Are you okay, Danny darling,’ Vera shouted.

  Yes, Gran, I'm having fun.’ he lied.

  ‘Okay. Five more minutes, then we’ll go back for our tea,’ just five minutes, Daniel thought, digging, filling, and pouring.

  They took Daniel back to the villa, cooked a tea and had put Daniel to bed just after seven. He had pleaded to stay up longer, as he never went to bed that early at home. The truth was, his grandparents were finding it more difficult than they thought, having a four year old on holiday, having to give him their attention and watch over him all the time. They loved Daniel very much, but they were pleased when it was his bedtime, so they could sit and relax without worrying what Daniel was getting up to. They wanted some time to themselves. Daniel had quickly fallen asleep and began to dream.

  It was a calm dream at first. He dreamt of building sandcastles on the beach just as he did all day, but in his dream the castles were immense and soon became a fortress with soldiers on the walls and then….. He saw giant fish jumping out of the sea, the fish had human faces that he recognised from the telly, but he didn't know their names. About twelve were jumping out of the sea, each one looking at Daniel, as they fell back into the sea. Then, as one fish jumped out with a face Daniel didn't recognise, it looked at Daniel and seemed to hover in mid-air.

  In a gargled voice it said ‘We’re going to eat you up, just like your Daddy eats us up. We’re going to chop off your head and….’

  That caused Daniel to stir and he altered his sleeping position to lie on his back and the dream went away. He was soon dreaming again, dreaming of his mum and dad pushing him on the swing, then him and dad pushing mum on the swing and then his mum changed into an old lady with a glass object in her hand. Again Daniel stirred, releasing him from his dream and he turned back on his side. Another dream came to him. Daniel dreamt of his brother, someone he hadn't met yet. That was the last dream Daniel had that night.

  Doug and Vera were on the veranda. This is where they spent their evenings whilst on holiday, usually with a couple called Sid and Betty; friends whom they met every year. Sid and Betty lived in Yorkshire. They had met on holiday some six years ago and every year they had met up. Doug and Vera had visited them in Yorkshire once, and enjoyed the beautiful city of York. Sid and Betty had returned with a visit to Wales, exploring the sights of Cardiff, but they didn't like the wet weather.

  They now had villas adjoining each other. The men were drinking beer from the supermarket, whilst the women were drinking something that tasted like Martini, only a lot cheaper. It was a beautiful warm evening, with the sun setting and even though the veranda looked over barren land you could still hear the noise of the sea splashing from the south side of the complex. Both couples loved it here and would never even think about venturing to another country or even another part of Malta. This was their idyllic retreat.

  It was just after eight pm when Vera got up, a bit wobbly from the effect of the alcohol; Sid grabbed her arm to steady her as she rose from her chair.

  ‘I'm just going to check on Daniel,’ she said, as she disappeared to the back of the villa.

  Vera opened Daniel’s bedroom door. It took a while for her eyes to contact her brain, due to the effect of the alcohol, before she realised what she was seeing, or in this case, not seeing. Daniel was not there. His unmade bed was empty. She let out a muffled scream, and then a louder one, and stumbled back towards the others shouting,

  ‘He's gone, he's gone.’

  Her heart raced, her lips quivered. All sorts of thoughts flew through her head at once, too many for her to comprehend. It made her feel dizzy. She was sure she was going to throw up. The two men had come running in to see what all the noise was about. They both could see the look of panic on her face.

  ‘He's gone, he's gone,’ she kept screaming as she flapped her arms, and tears streamed down her face.

  Doug grabbed Vera by both arms, trying to calm her. Sid had run into the bedroom, and saw that it was empty. He looked under the bed and in the wardrobe, but wasn't really expecting to find anyone. A sense of horror came over all of them. Someone had taken Daniel. With Doug and Vera locked in each other’s arms, Doug was trying to calm, the now hysterical Vera.

  ‘He's gone. He's gone,’ she kept shouting.

  Sid told them to call the police ‘Now!’ he had shouted, realising that someone needed to take charge of the situation.

  Sid went to have a look around outside,

  ‘He can’t have got far.’ he shouted.

  The police came very quickly. Holiday resort kids going missing was never very good for the tourist trade, so they always acted promptly. Two officers turned up, a male and a female both seeming apparently too young to be police officers, according to Doug, who was still in a bit of a panic and struggling to get his words out. Vera sat motionless, staring into space, fearing the worst.

  After stuttering out his words, the male officer asked them in perfect English to show him Daniel’s room. Vera and Doug escorted the officer to Daniel’s room at the back of the villa. Vera saw what she hadn't noticed before, although it now looked so obvious. Daniel’s pyjamas were on the floor; the clothes he had taken off earlier were gone.

  ‘He's got dressed.’ she said, ‘It looks like he got dressed.’ Her voice was cold, anxious.

  ‘So he's not been taken,’ said the male officer, ‘he's left?’

  ‘How can a four-year old boy just leave?’ Doug shot back at the officer. ‘He's gone. Just bloody find him!’ he demanded.

  By this time the female officer was on her radio, in the other room. The officer began to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of Sid approaching the villa.

  ‘I've found him!’ Sid shouted. ‘He said he was going to the Airport.’

  For both Vera and Doug, the worst moment of their long lives now seemingly over, they quickly moved to grab Daniel, hugging him, yet failing to hold back their tears. Daniel stood, looking confused as to what all the fuss was about.

  ‘Why were you going to the airport?’ Asked Vera. ‘Did you want to go
home?’

  ‘My dreams told me to,’ he hesitantly said. ‘My dreams are always right.’

  ‘What dreams were those?’ asked Doug.

  ‘Mummy has something to tell me.’ he said excitedly, mumbling his words as he tried to get them out. He gave a sigh. By this time Doug and Vera had let go of him. Sid was downing a beer, feeling the need for more than one.

  ‘She's going to have a baby.’ Said an excited Daniel.

  Chapter 6

  Carol and Bill had finished their coffee and left the arcade. The clouds were now clearing and through the gaps came brilliant sunshine, which seemed to make the roads glisten through the wetness they had endured. The wind was brisk, so the sun was never out for long, before going behind a cloud again. Carol gave a shiver, but she didn't think it was from the cold. The wet seaside front seemed to have more of a seaside feel about it. People seemed happier, now that the rain had ceased and the sun kept breaking out from behind the clouds. Children skipped and laughed, the music from the bars, piers and fairgrounds seemed so much louder now. Queues were again forming at the attractions, and in the distance the piers looked full. They walked past the entrance to the wax works where another long queue had formed. Simon Cowell was having his photo taken with two children as they stood beside the waxworks model, but Carol barely noticed. Her thoughts briefly went to her own childhood, how good her own parents had been and the joys she had felt as a child. Only good memories, although she had longed for a sister or a brother. Yet she remained an only child.

  Carol somehow thought she had missed out on having a brother or sister. She was determined Daniel would have a brother or sister and at least one good parent. She thought about Daniel then, how his holiday was going and how much she missed him, wishing instead that they had taken him with them to Blackpool. He would have loved the fair and the seven miles of sands. They were making their way back to the B & B, a pregnancy kit in her bag, feeling like they had done this before.

  Bill lay on the bed of the small room in the B & B. It was a double bed with a small dresser on either side. In the small drawer of one was the obligatory Bible. Both dressers had cheap lamps standing on them, which flickered if they were left on too long. On one wall was a table with coffee-making facilities, standing next to an old wardrobe in the other corner was a doorway leading to the small shower room with sink and toilet. The building was away from the sea front, and offered no views other than the road, and other B & B’s. The ceiling of their room was white with mould in the one corner where it had previously been damp, and the owners hadn't bothered to redecorate. It lacked both charm and ambience. These buildings were far cheaper than those by the sea front. All except a few had vacancy signs up, which was probably unusual for this time of year, but Blackpool was suffering from what up to now had been one of the wettest summers on record. The U.K. as a whole was suffering in the tourist trade. Families were choosing sunnier climates.

  Carol was in the bathroom. She had sat on the toilet for a good ten minutes before peeing on the tester. She was suddenly overcome with emotion.

  ‘This morning, I was the happiest girl in the world, who just wanted another baby, so why do I now feel so scared? She asked herself. The only conclusion she could come to was that perhaps Bill wasn't really the most desirable father. Yes, she loved Bill, but during this holiday something deep inside her made her doubt him. Something tugged at that inner doubt. She had thought for a while now, that her marriage was a test, a test of character which Fate had given her. Marry the most fearsome man you can find, and see how you deal with that then, Carol.

  It was really since she had seen Marie Rose, five years ago. It was all she had wanted to hear. This time, somehow, it felt different. She knew she was pregnant. Marie Rose had told her she was. Her thoughts returned to Bill’s reaction and the way he faced up to Marie Rose. But the clairvoyant never flinched. She just stared at him, as though he was irrelevant. There was really something more to it than that. What it was she just didn't know.

  She came out of the bathroom and lay on the bed beside Bill.

  ‘We will have to wait another five minutes,’ she told him.

  Bill grunted and looked at the pregnancy tester gripped firmly in Carol’s hand. They lay there for five minutes. No smiles. Not a sound coming from either. Both just lay in dread. Carol already knew, she didn’t have to look, or take the test, Marie Rose had told her. The walk back had only been about twenty minutes. They had both walked in silence as they tackled their inner thoughts. The sun had made up its mind and decided to shine brightly, as though it was making up for the weeks it had hidden behind the grey clouds. Yes, they had walked in silence, ignoring the hustle and bustle around them that the sun’s appearance seemed to have brought. Even if Carol had spoken it was unlikely Bill would have heard her.

  ***

  The events during this visit to Blackpool had stirred something inside Bill, a feeling he could never fully blank out. For the past year or so he had managed to ‘park’ the feelings he had first felt when his father was alive, and the times when his father would beat him. The voice in his head would tell him to run, but Bill never ran as he knew that when he was caught again the beatings would be far worse. At night, when he was too scared to sleep, while he waited for his father to pay him a visit, the voice would tell him to ‘get there first, get there first and kill the bastard before he kills you.’ Bill put the voice down to his imaginary friend. He said to himself that every kid has one, but he knew that wasn't true. Whatever the voice in his head was, it was real, as real as his father when he used to beat him.

  One night when his father had come home drunk, he was making his way up the stairs to visit Bill in his room, it was the voice that finally told Bill what to do. His father had not expected his son to be waiting, waiting at the top of the stairs. When he did see Bill, a brief moment of sobriety came over him, as he saw his young son hurtling towards him, with eyes as dark as night. His lips curled back over his teeth. In that brief moment, his father thought he was meeting the devil. That was the last thing his father saw, before falling down the stairs and banging his head on the concrete floor, the tumble being the last movement his son would ever see. No life flashed past through his mind, no time for regrets. Just instant painless unconsciousness.

  Bill had woken up in the morning to find his father in a pool of blood at the bottom of the stairs. The voice had momentarily disappeared from his head. Bill never remembered what the voices had told him, before they had left the inside of his head. He had called an ambulance. When the police came he told them that he woke up and just found his father lying there, which was true because, as far as Bill was concerned, he had never killed his father. The voice in his head had. There was an investigation and it was presumed that Bill’s father had come home drunk and had fallen down the stairs. That’s how Bill had to remember it. Any other memory might give him away. That was how the authorities thought it to be the best way he remembered the incident.

  That same voice was talking to him now, the voice that had got him out of that mess almost eleven years ago. Or was it the same voice? It had seemed to change at times. All the same, it was just a voice in his head.

  ‘What if she’s been playing around?’ it had asked him. The voice was taunting him. ‘What if the baby isn't yours?’ it had suggested, hounding him, taunting him, challenging him, laughing at him.

  ‘Fuck you!’ Bill had replied.

  ‘And if this one isn't yours, maybe Daniel isn't either.’ the voice inside his head kept on, taunting him.

  ‘Get the fuck out of my head!’ Bill angrily demanded of the voice that was torturing him.

  It did, for most of the way back, but every now and then, in the back of his mind, the voice questioned,

  ‘What if they’re not yours?’

  He tried to fight it, but he thought the voice was winning, as it usually did.

  ‘It’s time.’ Carol said.

  They both sat up and just stared at each othe
r. Bill hadn't heard the voice since he had been lying on the bed which he thought was a good thing, sure that he had put it away, ‘parked it’.

  They both looked down to what Carol had in her hand. For a few moments neither was taking in what they were seeing, not saying a word, just staring at the stick, which told them that Carol was pregnant.

  ‘I'm pregnant,’ Carol simply said. Of course, how could I not be? I really didn't need the test to tell me that. Her mind wandered to Marie Rose. She knew, she said to herself.

  Bill said nothing for a few seconds, his gaze fixed firmly on what Carol had in her hand.

  ‘How is that possible?’ he asked.

  ‘When we tested yesterday, maybe the eggs, or sperm, or whatever, was still working away.’ she said. ‘Anyway, what does it matter? I'm pregnant.’

  She suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of joy, which surprised her considering the thought she had when she was sitting on the toilet. Her mind felt confused. A sister or even a brother for our Danny, it’s all I ever wanted. Then why did she still feel so scared? She stared at the man she once loved, sitting beside her on the bed. She wanted him to tell her it was okay. Everything would be all right. But he didn’t. Bill just sat on the bed, his mouth wide open. He could feel the demons inside his head escaping from where they were parked. He knew the voice was there. He knew it would tell him what to do.