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

by Colin Griffiths

  ‘Get her an abortion,’ the voice said, ‘No, no, no!’ Bill said out loud, and then realising what he had said, he held his head tightly as if that would squeeze the voice from inside him. Carol became concerned, looked open-mouthed, her bottom lip quivered. ‘Bill.’ she simply said, eyes wide, her mouth wide open. She was so startled by his reaction.

  He lowered his hands. Their eyes met. He looks so lost. Carol thought. She took his hand, held it in hers lightly. She put her other hand on top of his, and clasped his hand in both of hers.

  ‘Oh I'm sorry.’ Bill apologised, coming to his senses. ‘It’s just hard to take all this in.’

  ‘It’s weird. I know Bill, let’s go for some dinner and talk about it.’

  Bill gave her an approving smile. He had regained his composure somehow. He felt he now had some degree of self-control. They got up and grabbed their coats which were hanging on the back of the door, slipping them on before leaving. Bill locked the door behind them and put the key in his pocket. Carol stood at the top of the stairs waiting for him. She gave him a smile before descending the stairs.

  ‘Push her down the fucking stairs,’ the voice said. ‘Just like you did to your father. We can say she tripped. Push her. Push her now!’

  The pain in his head was intense. He tried hard not to show it to Carol.

  ‘Push her. Push her.’ the voice demanded, but now the voice in his head was different. For the first time ever, he recognised the voice that was in his head. It was no longer just a voice, it was a being. Not a living being, but a being from beyond the grave.

  It was clearly his father telling him what to do. The father that he had pushed down the stairs and left to die.

  ‘I fancy a Harry Ramsden’s,’ Bill said as they descended the stairs and into the early evening sunshine.

  ‘You’re weak!’ his father’s voice told him.

  Nine months later, their second son was born. They called him Todd.

  Chapter 7

  Bill was five years old when his mother left them, or, as he had always thought, his father had killed her. As the years went by, Bill barely remembered what she looked like. The only memories he had of her were ones showing her with a swollen face and black eyes. On one occasion, he remembered, his father had kneed her so hard in the stomach, that his mother wet herself. Bill had also wet himself as he watched, not so much in fear for his mother, but for himself. Only once had Bill tried to stop his father. He was only five. That was when his father had held a knife to his mother’s throat. Bill had screamed and clung on to his father’s leg. His dad had turned away from his mother and put the knife to Bills throat. He never heard voices in his head in those days. They came later. As a five-year-old he thought he was going to die. But even without the voices Bill knew how to run. He ran upstairs and locked himself in the bathroom, just listening to the screams of his mother, as his father beat her. He never saw his mother again. His father told him she had left. Bill hated her for that. He thought she must have deserved the beatings. She had been a bad mother, and that was what bad mothers deserved.

  It was after that, his father turned his attentions to Bill. He would often beat him, but cleverly enough so that the marks wouldn't show. No teachers could see them, or if they did, they took no notice. No neighbours could hear them, and Bill knew the consequences if he dared ever tell anyone.

  Then the beatings stopped, because his father took other interests in Bill. No more beating, but ‘visits’ that hurt him more than any beating could. He used to lie there in tears, praying that his father would just beat him. He could handle the beatings, the cuts, the bruises. They would eventually heal, but this, he thought, would never ever go away.

  The day he thought the voices had killed his father, was the day Bill had become free of the violence and pain. Now the only violence and pain he would be involved with, was any that he inflicted.

  Daniel was six and Todd was one the day their parents split up. It had been a lovely, sunny day in their council home. The two boys had been running around the garden, Todd chasing Daniel. Todd, falling over more then he ran, spending more time pulling himself to his feet than actually running. Daniel teasing him, goading him to catch him. Todd laughing as he tried. Carol was watching from the kitchen window as she prepared tea. She laughed at their antics and felt herself to be the proudest mother in the world.

  Bill was due home from his work at the warehouse. The bus would be pulling up in five minutes. Daniel had always somehow known the time his father would be home and every day around this time he would race to the front room window, waiting for the bus, waiting for his father to come home. ‘I can see him, I can see him,’ he would shout to his mother, before opening the door and running to greet his father. But Danny hadn't done that for weeks now. Carol had noticed, but she didn't think Bill had.

  Their marriage had been on the rocks ever since that day in Blackpool. Both Carol and Bill knew it, but neither had mentioned it. Bill’s drinking had got heavier and although Bill had never hit her, never raised a hand to her, nor even threatened to. Carol grew scared of Bill and as the weeks and months passed, her fear grew greater. It was as if she was expecting an explosion. She couldn't make any sense of this. She just knew the fear was real.

  She heard the door open as Bill walked in on time.

  ‘Going up for a shower,’ he called.

  ‘Okay. Tea’s nearly ready.’ she replied. ‘It’s spag Bol.’

  Bill went to shower without bothering to answer. Today had not been a good day. He had got an order wrong at the warehouse, and had to unpack and repack it. He was given a reprimand at work. He wanted to hit the team leader who gave him the warning and was sure that if there hadn't been any witnesses, he would have done so. His work was suffering lately. He’d been fine since the birth of Todd. Although he and Carol were not particularly close, they had a routine, and Bill thought a routine was good at the moment. It suited him. He could do what he wanted. All Carol was interested in was the boys. She didn’t have much time for him anymore.

  As the shower ran over his naked body, the steam filling the room, feeling the water that was getting too hot, almost burning his skin. He remembered that had been a trick his father would do. Making him stand naked in the shower with the water very hot, but not quite hot enough to burn and how he had cried while his father would laugh, knowing that if he stepped out, there would be far worse to come. There would be no crying today.

  He let the water run cold, as cold as it could get, still standing there. Another trick his father had taught him. He dried himself off, got into his ‘best gear’ as he had no intention of staying in tonight. He’d had enough of that. He had stayed in last night.

  He walked down the stairs, smelling the spag Bol. on the stove, tempted to stay and have some, but he didn't want to do the family thing tonight. He needed to get out. He saw Carol in the kitchen from the bottom of the stairs.

  She's still beautiful, he thought, and indeed she was with her long, dark hair shining in the evening sun which came through the window, wearing tight jeans that almost fitted like a second skin. Showing off her peachy bum. Her nose a perfect profile to her face. She turned around saw him standing in the passage by the front door. Their eyes met.

  ‘I want a paternity test.’ he said, ‘for both of them!’

  He turned around and shut the door behind him as he left. Carol stood there, motionless for a while, the spoon with which she had been stirring the spaghetti bolognaise still in her hand. She turned her head slightly and saw the two boys standing by the back door.

  ‘You okay, mum?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Da.’ said Todd.

  She looked at her two sons standing there, concern on both their faces. Putting down the spoon, she moved to them, bending down in front of them, putting an arm round each. She hugged them, a tear appearing in her eye. ‘I'm fine, sweethearts, I love you both so much.’

  Daniel, still hugged against his mother’s chest, gasped, ‘We love you too,
mum.’

  ‘Da.’ said Todd.

  She released her grip on them and stood up. The boys’ eyes followed her movement.

  ‘Tea’s ready.’ she said. They’re mine. That’s all that matters. She told herself. And a feeling inside told her that soon that’s all she would have.

  As he saw his father walk out through the door, Daniel knew that he would probably never see his father again. He wanted his father to say goodbye, Bill Fenton never said goodbye. Even at that young age Daniel felt an overwhelming responsibility towards his mother and brother, he didn’t realise he would have to take that responsibility so soon.

  Bill left the house, walked down the short path, opened the gate and turned left. He could see the chip shop in the distance with three or four children outside. There was a Burger King further down. That was what he fancied. Two minutes later he was inside. There were about three people in front of him. He waited patiently for his turn. The young lad, who was serving, looked no more than sixteen. He was wearing a cap on his head and showed signs of acne around his chin.

  ‘Yes sir?’ the young man said, when it was his turn.

  ‘Big Mac and fries.’ said Bill.

  The boy looked at him very strangely, a look which Bill wanted to wipe off the young lad’s face.

  ‘This is a Burger King, McDonalds is in town.’ ‘You trying to be fucking funny?’ Bill scowled.

  The young lad saw the scowl on his face and for the first time saw the size of Bill, a big powerful man, with an angry face. The boy had the feeling he could be snapped in two with one arm as he stood there trembling.

  ‘No sir!’ He stuttered ‘I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean anything sir. I just…….’

  ‘Just give me a cheeseburger and fries.’ demanded Bill, staring at the young lad, daring him to say another word.

  ‘Certainly sir. Would you like to go large with that?’

  ‘Do I look like I want large?’

  The young lad thought there was no answer that could possibly be a safe one, so he made Bill up a large cheeseburger and fries, for which he would only charge for a regular, just to be on the safe side.

  ‘Make it two.’ Bill said.

  ‘Certainly sir.’

  Bill walked out of the Burger King eating his burger and fries. The day was still warm. It had been a nice day. The sun was still shining, but was losing its strength as it headed towards sunset.

  He walked down the street, still eating, looking forward to the beer he was heading for. As he walked, his father’s voice spoke to him.

  ‘You did the right thing. ‘

  Bill didn't reply. He just carried on eating until the food was almost gone. The main street to the pub was quite busy. The houses were now behind him, and the shopping centre a hundred yards ahead. It wasn't big, but more was being added to it all the time, as the estate was on route to the capital city. In not so many years, it would become a small town. Already they had added a supermarket, chemist, butcher, a hairdresser’s, a cafe, a take away Chinese, an Oxfam shop, a pub and a restaurant just behind. Between the last two buildings was another community hall and behind that a church and doctors’ surgery.

  There was a lady on the other side of the road walking her dog. A cocker spaniel, it looked like to Bill. What a lovely dog, he thought. He'd finished his last chip and threw the wrapper to the floor in spite of there being a series of bins ahead of him, in the direction that he was going. The lady saw this and gave Bill a disapproving look as they passed.

  ‘You got a fucking problem?’ Bill shouted

  The lady quickened her step until Bill was out of sight.

  Bill was never to return home again. That evening he sat in the pub which was relatively quiet for that time of day. As the time went by more and more people were coming in. Bill was sitting there, but he wasn’t alone. He never seemed to be alone these days, not since the birth of Todd and perhaps before that, during the time in Blackpool and the visit to Marie Rose. No he was never alone lately. He always had his father with him, the father he had killed when he was just a little boy. Yes, he had had many ‘fathers’ since going from home to home, foster parent to foster parent. Seven foster parents in total, and only two had abused him like his father had.

  He finally thought he had lost his demons when he met Carol. He somehow hid his past life from both Carol and himself, but his father had come back, his real father.

  ‘I will never leave you.’ his father had told him. ‘I will always be here.’ goading him like a school kid.

  He had tried ridding his father from his mind. When that didn't work he tried to ‘park’ his father. That worked okay for a while, but now his father was here in his mind, and this time he knew he was here to stay.

  That day Bill drank his beer, not setting out to intentionally hurt anyone. He wanted a beer, lots of beer, and maybe he would pull. Yes, that’s it, beer and sex. As the night went on the place filled up. Bill continued drinking, sitting underneath the front window in a U shaped cubicle with another five places alongside him and three on either side. He sat alone, with his father’s voice, getting drunk. After about an hour or so, two couples had taken seats either side of Bill. A young couple in their twenties, enjoying a night out, had put some songs on the juke box and had sat down. They were closely followed by a couple in their thirties. ’Wrecking ball’ was playing on the juke box. Bill sat there with an empty bottle of Budweiser.

  By the time the Police came, a lot of damage had been done and a lot of blood lost. None of it was Bill Fenton’s. Bill had gone to the bar and whilst slipping past the young couple Bill had trodden on the young girl’s toe hard enough to make her yell.

  ‘Stop your fucking whinging.’ he had told her.

  Her boyfriend, a young man of twenty-three, out with his new girlfriend and wanting to make an impression, couldn't let it go. No one would speak to his girlfriend like that, without him at least saying something. Barely, before the young man had stood up, the beer bottle in Bill’s hand had crashed against his head. As he went down, he slid between the chairs and table onto the floor, an instant pool of blood forming around his head. The couple opposite just looked on in horror, and the young girl shrieked in terror. The bottle had now broken from the force with which it had been wielded. It took the two bouncers, one of whom had received severe lacerations, together with a number of customers to finally get Bill to the ground. They sat on him until the police came. It then took five policemen to get him into the van. The young boy had not died instantly. It was three days before he died. It was seventeen years before Bill was released from prison.

  With the dishes washed, Todd fallen fast asleep, Carol and Daniel sat on the sofa watching Fox and the Hound.

  ‘I think Daddy's in trouble.’ Daniel said to her, completely out of the blue.

  An hour later the police knocked the door.

  Chapter 8

  Seventeen years later.

  The twenty-three-year-old drove up Hill Street in his three-year-old Mercedes S class. Daniel had just finished work. It was mid-May, a pleasant day with hazy sunshine. Daniel had made one of his visits to a client this morning, with Becky not home yet he thought he’d pop in to see mum and his brother.

  See what I can scrounge to eat.

  Becky was his wife to be. They had met at a bowling alley three years previously, when Daniel had misjudged a throw so badly that it had ended in the next alley, the alley where Becky and her friends were playing. They hit it off immediately. Daniel had tried to apologise, amid tears of laughter running from Becky's eyes.

  In spite of doing very well as an accountant, with top market businesses requiring his services, (Daniel was highly sort after, with his shrewd business head) he was officially employed as an accountant. He had a natural and remarkable ability in being able to invest money without paying taxes. His skills were tax avoidance and his customers included a lot of celebrities, even a top lawyer and chief inspector.

  Daniel and Becky had chosen to live on the cou
ncil estate just around the corner from his mum and Todd. They were still very close, and he needed to be close to his mum, even more so with his father out of prison. They had done the house up nicely, after purchasing it from the council. They both loved it there. Daniel funded his mum and brother in many ways, and his wife to be realised this as a natural thing to do. Becky was never kept short; indeed, she could have almost anything she wanted.

  As Daniel drove through the council estate, two streets away from his mother’s he saw Stephen Jenkins. The twat! Daniel thought, as he pulled up outside the house where Stephen was cleaning the windows. Stephen wasn’t a small lad. He was about twenty-two years old, but compared to Daniel he was small. Daniel had grown into a huge hunk of a man just like his father. Stephen hadn't noticed Daniel, until the ladder he was standing on suddenly moved away from the wall where it had been leaning against. Stephen found himself in mid-air. He shrieked! A little too girly. Daniel thought.

  Stephen, clinging on for dear life, regained his balance and managed to look down to see what was happening. He saw that Daniel was holding the ladder in mid-air.

  ‘What have I told you?’ Daniel shouted up.

  ‘Please just put me down!’ he shrieked.

  Daniel placed the ladder against the wall, both his arms aching through the strain. When it was against the wall Stephen began to climb down. He was feeling a bit queasy and started to shake. When he reached the bottom, he turned to face Daniel with his shammy still in his hand. Remarkably, the buckets had managed to stay hooked to the ladder