The Hill - Ben’s Story (Book One).: A Paranormal Murder Mystery Thriller. (Book One).
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He was sure that Greeny, Mossy, Seb and John would keep quiet and he was almost certain Charlotte would. The only one he couldn’t depend on was the other girl. He couldn’t even remember her name. She bothered him, but he was hanging on to the hope that if she was going to turn herself in, she would have done it by now.
Chapter thirty five
Markland Garraway’s home
7.30am
Monday 10th August 2010
Markland Garraway was getting ready for work. He’d returned the previous week for the first time since he had been signed off sick last October, which was a lot longer than the four weeks for which he was initially signed off. It was a long road to recovery after his mental breakdown but he was getting there. He walked using sticks due to the arthritis which started about the same time as he began having mental health problems.
He was seeing a consultant about the arthritis who was taken aback by how quickly, and without warning, it had appeared. Until last October he had been a fit man who enjoyed playing sports, especially cricket and had no history of the illness in his family. Now he could hardly walk. The pain wasn’t just in his legs, it was in his back, arms and wrists. He even found it difficult to hold a pen.
His consultant couldn’t find a reason for the sudden onset of the illness. Garraway didn’t smoke, he had no previous injury that could have brought it on, his job wasn’t physically demanding enough to be the reason and he had no underlying illnesses which could have triggered it. It seemed that it had just been the element of chance.
After his breakdown he felt he’d got as well as he could at home and wanted to continue getting better whilst back at work. He needed routine and normality. Garraway consulted with his GP, occupational health and bosses at work, and it was agreed that over the following months he could slowly increase his hours. The initial reduced hours were non-negotiable. It was a condition he had to accept in order to take the first step of getting back to work.
That first day returning to work was scary for Markland Garraway, but he just wanted to get that moment of walking through the door on the first day back, over and done with.
When he returned he felt like the elephant in the room and he didn’t mean his weight gain either. That was another effect of the depression, weight gain. A year of downing vast quantities of whisky whilst eating lard and doing absolutely no exercise meant he was now packing a fair bit of extra timber.
But what to say to other people! Should I say something? Should I not? What do they think has happened to me? What do they know? He thought the first day back.
In the end he decided not to make any big announcement, just crack on with his work. Slowly, over the weeks, he was hoping it would all just come out naturally, just by chatting to people around the coffee machine about how he’d been over the last year.
He was to keep the rank as Detective Chief Inspector, but would be office based and had been given a choice to train other detectives or to work in intelligence, and had chosen training. Office based work was as much as he would be able to manage until his arthritis improved.
At the end of his first week he bumped into Sergeant Colin Matthews in the staff canteen. It was an awkward moment. After small talk they went their separate ways.
Garraway had never stopped thinking about Ben Walker and was determined that sometime in the future he would be able to solve the case. He had decided he would never return to the hill as he knew that the strange Bronze Age burial mound was the cause of all his problems.
Chapter thirty six
Maria’s home
9.35pm
Monday 10th August 2010
Maria was reading a book in her lounge. She had turned the lights down low and was planning on reading just one last chapter before going to bed. Next to her was Christopher’s baby monitor. She turned a page in her book and was just about to read it when she heard a creaking noise coming from the monitor. She put down her book and quietly crept along her small hall to Christopher’s bedroom. He was facedown and rocking from side to side in his cot, like he had been in the coffee shop earlier in the week. She stroked his head and made him comfortable. He had become uncovered and, although it was a warm August evening, Maria covered him up in case he was rocking from side to side because he was cold. The rocking stopped. She went back to the lounge and continued with the book.
Five minutes later he started again, this time there was no creaking noise, instead there was a dull repetitive thud accompanied by Christopher making an “ughh” sound every time there was a thud. “Ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh,” he went over and over again. Maria closed her book and listened to the monitor. “Ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh.” She had never heard him do it before and she was worried. She crept back into his room, put his light on low and knelt down to his level while he lay in his cot.
He lay on his front and was banging his head on his pillow making the strange “Ughh” sound. She looked at him closely and saw he was fast asleep.
“Ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh,” he continued with his strange mantra like chant. She picked him up and held him close with her head against his. As soon as she picked him up he stopped. He was fast asleep. As she held him she rocked him from side to side. After laying him back down she watched him whilst he slept.
Feeling tired she decided to turn in for the night. She took his monitor to her bedroom and got changed for bed. She was just about to lie down when it started again. “Ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh,” along with the thudding of his head against the pillow. Maria was worried and didn’t know what was happening. Was he ill, was he having some kind of fit? He was clearly not distressed as he was sleeping so soundly. She went back to the lounge, turned on her computer, brought up Google and typed ‘head banging babies’. As soon as she typed in the search lots of websites came up, all with the same thing. Head banging in childhood seemed extremely common and up to twenty percent of children do it. The websites were all saying the same things. Boys were three times more likely to do it than girls. Most children stop by the time they are three. She closed the lid on her computer and thought about what Campbell had told her the other day. She felt a little more relieved now that she’d done a little research courtesy of Doctor Google. She thought about asking Campbell about it next time she was in the coffee shop. He said that he’d done it when he was a child and had grown out of it.
She went back to her bedroom and got into bed. “Ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh,” he continued. Maria thought it would be best to let him carry on and decided to take him to the doctor tomorrow.
As Christopher continued his strange rhythmic head banging the Awareness was waking up. Was Christopher waking the Awareness by head banging, or was it the Awareness causing him to bang his head? Either way they were working together. The Awareness was recalling new and different memories, faces, voices, places and sounds. They meant nothing but were being stored somewhere for the Awareness to pool later. Christopher had no idea he was banging his head, or that there was something very strange going on in his brain. He knew nothing of the Awareness and sensed nothing of the memories the Awareness recalled. Eventually Christopher stopped as the Awareness drifted back from where it came. The rest of the night went without incident.
The next morning Maria was woken by Christopher’s usual cooing and gurgling. He was calling for Misty as the toy cat had fallen out of the cot. “Meee, meee, meee” he called as Maria opened his door. She handed him the toy and smiled at him. He smiled back with his beaming grin.
As soon as her doctors’ surgery opened she was on the phone to book an appointment. From what she had read on the computer his head banging didn’t seem to be harmful. Her surgery would only see patients on the same day if it was an emergency. She told the receptionist that she needed to see a doctor today as her son had been acting very strangely in the night, banging his head and moaning. This was enough to convince the woman on the other end of the pho
ne that Christopher should see a doctor straight away and booked an appointment for eleven that morning.
Maria called her mother and told her about Christopher’s head banging. Claire tried not to sound alarmed, she had never heard of anything like it before and told Maria she was right to take him to see a doctor.
She put down the phone and watched her son happily crawling around the floor and pulling himself up onto the side of the sofa. Teetering as he went, he was able to walk the length of the sofa by holding on to it. He made his way over to his mother who scooped him up into her arms. “You’ll be walking like a big boy soon,” she told him as he beamed at her looking very pleased with himself.
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11.20am.The Saint John Fisher Health Centre.
Maria sat in the waiting room of her doctor’s surgery. She bounced Christopher on her lap as she waited for his name to be called over the surgery’s intercom. They had got to the surgery before eleven o’clock and it was now twenty minutes past. Christopher was getting restless. She let him crawl around the waiting room floor and pull himself up using chairs, much to the amusement of the others waiting to see their doctor.
At last Christopher’s name was called. Maria entered the consulting room and sat opposite Dr Marsh with Christopher on her lap and explained what Christopher had been doing the previous night.
Dr Marsh was young, Maria thought she didn’t look much older than twenty five, but realistically she must be closer to thirty. Maria felt more relaxed when doctors was at least in their forties, or else how on earth would they have had time to learn all the different illnesses a person could have.
The doctor gave Christopher a thorough examination and found nothing wrong with him. He had no sign of an ear infection, respiratory problems, throat infection and she went through an extensive list of all the other things he didn’t have wrong with him. Dr Marsh had no idea why Maria’s son had behaved as he had, and suggested that as last night had been a particularly warm one Christopher was just having trouble sleeping. There was nothing else the doctor could suggest and sent Maria and Christopher on their way and told her she should contact the surgery again should he have more episodes.
Maria strapped Christopher in the car and wasn’t satisfied with the diagnosis. A mother knows when something isn’t right, and something certainly hadn’t been right with Christopher last night. She thought back to what Campbell had said in the coffee shop when he called her son a little head banger. She hated his description, but it summed up exactly what Christopher had been doing. He had told her that head banging was something he used to do when he was young and had grown out of it when he was three.
She thought another trip to Coaster’s was in order. It was lunch time. She could have a snack, feed Christopher and if Campbell was there she could ask him about his head banging.
She got to the coffee shop at one o’clock, just as Campbell was taking off his apron and getting ready to leave. She stood at the counter whist Christopher slept in his buggy. The girl serving asked for her order.
“Actually, before I order, could I have a quick word with Campbell before he leaves?”
The young girl called Campbell, who walked over to Maria and gave her a warm smile. Campbell told her that he was starting his lunch break. Maria didn’t want to take up his time and told him it was nothing. Campbell bent down and looked at Christopher silently sleeping in his buggy.
“I see he’s stopped that head banging business,” he said, looking up at Maria.
“Well, that’s what I wanted to speak to you about.”
Campbell listened as she told him about Christopher’s unsettled night and how she remembered him saying that he used to do the same thing when he was young. Campbell listened and smiled. Maria liked his smile, he had a kind face.
“Look, I’m just off for a bite to eat and you and Christopher are welcome to join me, we can chat about all this head banging stuff at the same time.”
Maria briefly thought about it and didn’t take long to accept his invitation.
Campbell Broderick was thirty three years old, five foot eleven inches with black hair and tanned skin. His father was from County Cork and his mother was from Indonesia. The mix race of his parents had resulted in an aesthetically pleasing son. He reminded Maria of Keanu Reeves.
She followed him across the road and into a bakery. Campbell ordered himself a baguette, a sandwich for Maria and a cappuccino for both of them. They sat at a small table at the far end of the bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread and cakes was wonderful and Maria wondered why she’d never eaten here before.
“So how come you work in a coffee shop and don’t have your lunch there?” she asked.
“You’ve tasted that stuff we serve up, it’s horrible, much too bitter, I prefer to come here.”
Maria laughed. He’s funny she thought.
“So what did you want to ask me about my head banging days?”
Maria was embarrassed, she didn’t know the man and here they were talking about his childhood.
“You know that my son has started banging his head, and he kept me awake for most of the night doing it. I took him to see the doctor this morning and a fat lot of good she was.”
“What did the doctor say?” he asked.
“Not a lot, she said it had been warm last night and it was probably what disturbed Christopher,……….. I’ve seen him warm at night before, we’ve just had a hot couple of weeks and he was fine. Yesterday was different, he was chanting, banging his head and rocking from side to side and I was really concerned.”
Campbell smiled. “I don’t want to sound like your doctor, but I am sure that he will be fine. It might just last a few weeks or a few years. It took me until I was three to stop and my parents were convinced I was some kind of nutcase and look at me now.” He smiled as he held his hands up as an invitation for Maria to inspect him.
“I don’t know why I did it, but when I was little my mother was told by the doctor it was something to do with my brain developing and it was my way of dealing with it all. It was obviously down to my extreme intelligence as a child.” He winked at her to show he was joking.
She smiled, but looked concerned. “But the chanting thing, did you chant when you banged your head?”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember my mother saying I chanted, I just banged my head.”
He could tell by her face that she was concerned about her son. “Look, if he carries on doing it and this chanting doesn’t stop, I suggest you ask your doctor to arrange a health visitor to drop by.”
Maria smiled at him and nodded.
“Why don’t you film him on your phone?” he added.
Maria looked puzzled.
“You can bet your bottom dollar if the health visitor calls round he won’t be asleep banging his head and chanting, so at least you’ll have something to show.”
“Good idea,” she said as she took another sip of coffee.
They spent the next twenty minutes making small talk and enjoying each other’s company, Campbell looked at his watch.
“I’m going to have to head back to work,” he said as he stood up to put his jacket on. Pausing as he had one arm in his sleeve, he added, “I enjoyed having lunch with you, perhaps we could do it again?”
Maria blushed. “Maybe,” she said as he ran her fingers through her red hair trying to hide her embarrassment.
He smiled and nodded as he left the bakery.
The next few weeks were fairly peaceful for Christopher and Maria. Although he was still occasionally banging his head and moaning, it was nothing like that strange night in early August.
During the nights when Christopher was sleeping well, the Awareness which nested deep within him was dormant, but was preparing for its biggest advancement yet.
Chapter thirty seven
Markland Garraway’s home
6.27pm
Monday 6th September 2010
One year s
ince the death of Ben Walker
Markland Garraway struggled to get out of his car. Today his arthritis had been bad. He slowly made his way to the front door, awkwardly put the key in the lock and let the door swing open. Dropping onto the settee he let his two walking sticks fall to the floor.
It had been a hard day for him. A year since Ben Walker had been murdered and what had resulted in being the worst twelve months of his life. Joan was finding it hard dealing with his mood swings since his breakdown and had struggled to come to terms with the physical changes of her once tall standing husband. Now he was bent forward with the pain of his illness and she was left to do many of the jobs around the house that once they would share.
One thing he did enjoy was his work. After returning last month his role had completely changed. Although he still held the rank of Detective Chief Inspector he was not actively working on any cases. Detective Superintendent Munroe and Occupational Health said he needed more time before returning to his old role. Instead of solving cases he was now training others how to do it and found he actually quite liked it. He was putting the past twenty seven years of experience to good use.
But today had been particularly difficult. Whether it was the anniversary of Ben’s murder having a subconscious effect on him or just the damp September day making his joints hurt more than usual. The case had been on his mind the whole day. He had tried his best to distance himself from it since he’d returned to work but today it had become an obsession, like it had been when he was at home suffering his breakdown. Never had his work affected him so much. He’d seen worse over the years. Children beaten to death by parents, women killed and mutilated by husbands and so many other gruesome things, but Ben’s murder had really got to him. Deep down he knew exactly why he was so ill. All this had been brought on by the hill in the woods. Something about it had made all these things come together. From the first time he was there he knew the place was strange. If not for that place Polly Ellis may not have taken her life and instead been able to move on and find her future without Sarah.