30 minutes later two Military style personal dressed in black with no insignia had arrived at the house. They could see the two cups of tea, that had been drunk earlier and as they searched the grounds they came across the frail body of Gabriel Fenton, lying beside his sister’s grave, and both soldiers noticed how peaceful he looked. But this wasn’t good at all, William Fenton had been here and now his brother lay dead. They had to call this in, the Fenton’s must be caught, and if not caught, then terminated. One of them opened his phone ‘were too late’ was the first words he said. Within the hour every member of the secret agency had been put on alert, there instructions were simple, if they wanted to avoid one of the world’s first known supernatural battle, then the Fenton’s must be caught, neutralised or killed. The assistance of the American sister service had been called and they were flying agents over, and as every man was given their instructions as to their duties, those fearless men now had one thing in common, fear.
*
William Fenton walked it easily to the next village. He had seen the men in black coming from a distance and he had laughed about it. He had called them ‘fucking amateurs’ and laughed even more. He felt powerful now, more powerful than he had ever felt before and that was thanks to his brother, and he thought that when this was all over and if he got to heaven he would thank his brother personally. Because he knew that’s where his family were, in heaven. His mother and father, brother and sister were in heaven for they had never done anything bad in their lives, too short a life in the case of his sister. William had thought, then there was a moment of bitterness that engulfed him, for he had never done anything bad in his life, not until they had banished him from the family home, it was all his father’s fault and he shall tell him so if he ever gets to heaven. After two train journeys he now stood in the picturesque village of Marshfield, just outside his ex-wife’s home. A neat two bedroomed bungalow with lovely gardens. He grinned as he imagined her pulling up all those flowers. But he hadn’t seen what she had written with them, only two people knew that, one of them he had to wait until he left before he could visit, and as soon as he was sure that James McCarthy had left and wasn’t coming back, he walked down the path and rang the doorbell of Marie Rose’s home.
Marie Rose was in a buoyant mood, it was almost a year since the death of her grandchild and carol had arranged a memorial at the church in Ashbourne in memory of Todd, and they were later going to unveil a bench next to the playing fields in memory of him. She thought it was a lovely gesture, a sad occasion but a lovely gesture, and what made it better was everyone was going to be there, and she thought that after that they all could get together and try to rebuild the relationships that had somehow broken down over the last few months. She had moved to Marshfield to be near them and had been seeing far too little of them. The episode of James sensing death had really unnerved her, but James had convinced her that it was just a flashback and that he hadn’t really sensed it at all, he could see the old lady was dead, it was clear to everyone and he had just confused things. She was the elder of the family and she felt it was up to her to pull the family through and to make sure they stayed in contact. Yes today she was buoyant as she sat drinking her favourite cup of earl grey when she heard the doorbell ring.
She couldn’t see who it was through the stained glass in the front door, but the sun was shining and she could see a silhouette of a large man, she thought nothing of it as she opened the door.
She dropped to her knees in fright at what she saw. Her legs just gave away and she gasped for breath and tried to scream but nothing come out other than the sound of her panting as she tried to breathe. William Fenton closed the door behind him as he went in, he looked down at the woman on her knees panting for breath,
“It’s been a long time,” he said, “such a long time.”
Marie Rose sat against the passage wall now her hands up to her throat as if that would help her breathe, and as she looked at the man all her past came flooding back, the beatings, the raping’s, the mental torture that she had endured for all those years, it all come back in some vivid nightmare as if everything good in her life had disappeared. William Fenton put his hands under her armpits and lifted her up and dragged her into the living room where he threw her on the sofa. Marie Rose wet herself as he did so, she could feel the warm stream running down her leg and William looked at her in disgust as she sat shivering on the sofa. He sat in an armchair for twenty minutes, just looking at her as Marie Rose’s worse fears were dawning on her as she sat in her own urine. She was finally meeting the Devil, he finally spoke,
“I want a reading.” He said.
She shivered again at the sound of his voice, her breath slowly coming back, but her heart still raced and she thought she would have a heart attack if it didn’t stop. She was praying James would come back but she knew it was unlikely as she had arranged to see him to pick her up for the memorial for Todd. Marie Rose pointed to the sideboard where her crystal ball was, she hadn’t used it for ages and she knew she could see no more, he moved a coffee table close to her and lay the crystal ball on it,
“Tell me what you see?” He ordered.
With her heart still racing and a feeling of complete and utter dread and horror, she slowly reached out for the ball and gazed into it, she was thinking that she would have to make something up, but she had no idea what. She felt hot and sweaty, her head was in a daze, she felt like she was going to feint. She wanted to hit him with the ball, smash his head until his brains were spilling on the carpet, but she had no strength, and as she gazed into the ball, she could see nothing, just the reflections of things around her, and William Fenton said nothing as she looked into the ball. He knew sometimes it could take some time, but he had the time today before he gathered his own little army to destroy what was left of this fucked up family.
And Marie Rose looked too scared to do anything else, she was praying that she would see something, something that he wanted to hear, so he would leave her alone, but nothing came, nothing until……
She could see it now, but it wasn’t what she wanted to see. She could see the husband that stood before her, entering her son’s bedroom after she had left them, and her son’s father doing things to his own son, that no human being never mind a child should endure. Then she saw herself being beaten and raped repeatedly by the man that stood before her, and she wanted to scream and shout and cry, but she couldn’t. Her eyes were transfixed into the ball, she could not let go, raping after raping, beating after beating came into view, and now she could hear William Fenton laughing, not in the ball, but in the room, William Fenton was sat on the armchair laughing his head off as Marie Rose looked back on her past, and finally she did scream and during that last scream and just before her heart gave out for good, she saw one last thing that neither her or William Fenton were expecting.
Marie Rose saw her grandson Todd, and he was alive and as she looked up at her ex-husband, the last thing she done before she collapsed in the chair, no longer of this world, was smile at William Fenton.
William’s laughter faded when he saw that smile. He was sort of expecting what was going to happen, but the smile had unnerved him, why did the bitch have to smile? He thought, what had she seen? He shook her body as if trying to wake her up, but he knew it was no good. Marie Rose had suffered a heart attack, just as he hoped she would. But he felt uneasy now, he took hold of the crystal ball and stared into it trying to see if he could see what she saw, but there was only his own reflection as he stared. He threw the ball in anger, crashing it into the wall, the wall dented because of the weight and the ball landed on the floor and gently rolled along the carpet to William Fenton’s feet.
Meanwhile two streets down in his own bungalow sat James McCarthy in his reclining chair, a coffee steaming on the table beside him, he didn’t feel as buoyant as his cousin had felt earlier, his mind kept flashing back to that accident in Cardiff. The old lady that had got knocked down and James went over to help, but
he didn’t help her, he didn’t try, he knew she was already dead, he knew it because he sensed it. For the first time in almost a year, and it worried him, yes he had told Marie Rose it was a mistake, that he had not sensed it all, but he had, he didn’t want it back, not that curse, he couldn’t live with that, not again. And as he sat pondering, wondering why he couldn’t just have a normal life with his cousin and her family, just as he was dozing in his recliner, he shuddered and quickly stood up, it was there again, that feeling of death, it wasn’t a one off, it was back, his curse was back. He quickly went to the window and saw an elderly man walking past looking frail on his walking stick, it must be him, poor bugger, James thought. He sat back down in his chair, wishing upon wishing that things could be different. He closed his eyes once more and thought of his Elsie, ‘I’m not sure I can live with this anymore’ he told her, he closed his eyes and soon nodded off, his dreams were pleasant, he dreamt of his Elsie.
Chapter 33
Roy, Lia and Connor slater had landed safely In Heathrow airport. The flight had been tiring but exciting all the same and two year old Connor had been as well behaved as you could expect any two year old boy. His overactive young mind further ahead than his actual years imagined flying the plane. He was looking forward to meeting new people. They had checked into the Tavistock and both Roy and Lia wondered why it was so expensive considering its mediocrity. Then they realised it was London and that’s what you get for the price, and they hated the fried breakfasts that the English would start their day on, there had been no one there to help with the cases. The receptionist looked as if she couldn’t be bothered, it was his first impressions of Britain, and he loathed it. Roy Slater, born in America, conceived in the United Kingdom, was now stood outside the rather grand Buckingham Palace, his wife by his side, his son fast asleep in his pushchair, and while Lia his wife was amazed by the beauty and the structure and the wonderfulness of it all, Roy Slater was not impressed. Westminster abbey had not impressed him, Big Ben had not, the houses of parliament or Downing street, had not impressed him, in fact ever since he had come to Britain, he had felt an unease, something niggling inside him that he just couldn’t understand. Lia hadn’t really noticed, she just thought everything was wonderful and as he watched her jumping up and down taking photographs, he thought how lucky he was and would try to snap out of the mood he was in. And he did for a while and then the unease had crept back in without him even realising it, he didn’t want to feel like this, he didn’t understand it at all. He wished he hadn’t taken the trip. Maybe when we get out of London things will be better, he thought. He hated it here, really wished they had not come, he felt detached from everything and everyone, it was like his family wasn’t his and he just had an imaginary friend, and that friend was telling him to hate it, hate every last bit of it.
Lia asked some other tourists to take their photograph with the palace in the background, and Roy smiled as best he could, Lia looked back at the picture,
“You look as miserable as sin,” she told him,
“I’m fine.” He grunted, as he slumped with his hands in his pockets.
They walked to one of the many cafes not too far away from their hotel. Lia had ordered pasta, whilst Roy had ordered a burger. He barely ate half of it, he guessed the British couldn’t make burgers either. Connor who was awake, at that time had chips, then they took a walk down Oxford Street to look at the shops. They soon grew tired and went back to the Hotel to rest up a while. Conner had fallen asleep in the cot at the end of the bed. Roy was flicking through the TV channels looking for nothing in particular. Lia handed him a coffee she had just made, she sat on the bed beside him,
“Are you sure you ok?” She asked him, the question showing her concern.
He gave it a little thought, more of what answer to give her rather than tell her the truth, because the truth was he didn’t feel ok, ever since they had landed in London he had been feeling apprehensive, butterflies continually in his stomach. Never mind how much he tried he could not get into the swing of things, this wasn’t so much a holiday, more of the trip from hell.
“I think I may have jet lag,” he answered, “I’m sure I will be okay.”
He smiled leant over and kissed his wife, they both dozed and lay on the bed until they heard Connor climbing out of his cot, they laughed at him as he seemed all arms and legs. They had slept for almost two hours and Roy was feeling better for it, he guessed it must have been the jet lag all along. They soon got showered and bathed Connor and went down into the restaurant for dinner. The choices were not many and they both ordered lamb chops, whilst Connor had sausages. They ate in silence and Lia noticed that Roy was again looking edgy, she thought the sleep had done some good and the old happy Roy had come back, but now the old happy Roy again seemed to have gone.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” She asked once more as she tucked into her apple crumble,
“Do you know when you get that feeling of Deja Vu?” he asked.
She didn’t but knew what he meant, she nodded as she spooned in some more crumble.
“I think I need to research my family history!”
Now Lia dropped her spoon in her plate, swallowed what she had in her mouth, she wiped her mouth with her hand, she seemed shocked.
“You told me there is no history of you here,” she said “you were born in America, your mum was 15 for god sake!”
He sipped his cold coffee,
“There’s something here Lia,” he said, “and I think it’s to do with family.”
Lia took some more crumble, she was enjoying it, she looked into her husband’s eyes and he in hers and their eyes smiled,
“What are you going to do about it?” She asked,
“I don’t know,” said Roy and spooned his crumble into his mouth “mmm this is good.” He said, Connor sat in the high chair fiddled with a sausage on his plate, he seemed to like it in the United Kingdom.
There’s something here in this country, its evil I can taste it, it’s where I belong. Thought Roy Slater as he ate the last of his crumble, and he guessed the bloke that had got inside his head had thought so to.
Chapter 34
William Fenton had left Marshfield for the Newport City centre, went into the bank and drew out £10,000 in £50 pound notes. He hired a Ford Focus from a local car hire establishment. He wanted to go to Ashbourne later for a memorial that everyone seemed to be going on about. It had been a strange but pleasing day, the passing of his ex-Wife being the highlight, but it was a close run thing to getting inside the head of Roy Slater, a grandson he never knew existed, a grandson that had come into his head as soon as Marie Rose had left this earth and left William Fenton’s sub-consciousness, another door had opened and Roy Slater had foolishly walked through that door. And just like a good grandfather should, William had let him in, now he controlled him, Roy slater was his. The Slater’s son looked interesting to, far too young to be able to exploit, but maybe the old traditions of the Fenton’s may live on yet. They should have stayed in the land of hope and glory, he thought, fucking Americans thick as shit, no sense of culture.
Now he was in the part of the City where many people of the establishment refuse to accept it exists, the slums, places scattered across the cities of the United Kingdom.
The under developed region, the forgotten people, who’s lives only consisted of crime and deceit, take or be taken from, kill or be killed. William Fenton had deliberately gone to Cardboard City, and those that gathered there that day, those that chose to act the way they did, would later say they were led by William Fenton. He walked cautiously towards the five men and the girl that were sat in the subway, they had a 45 gallon drum ablaze, though it was a warm day, but the subway felt cool, and as the rats skittered around his feet, he thought the blazing drum was probably obligatory to the homeless. As he walked closer, there was no fear in him, he felt powerful, and he felt strong thanks to his brother. He noticed that one of the six was an elderly man, and immediately
ruled him out, but the others seemed to be in there twenty’s, he looked at the girl, he guessed she was probably pretty at one time, but now she looked grubby. Her face was thin and haggard, and he guessed she just let the boys use her as they wanted so long as she could hang out with them, share the food they stole, and the drugs they bought with the money they pick pocketed or begged. It seemed to William Fenton that having a monkey on your back was all part of living in a cardboard box. The six of them never took their eyes off him as he drew closer, the old man poked the firing drum with a stick, sparks flew and still they stared at the approaching man, the six of them were sat on the floor as William approached. Two of the boys rose to their feet as William got near, now he stood before them, he could see the old man was sat on a makeshift chair, he still held Williams stare, the piece of wood he had used to poke the fire now poised as if it were a weapon,
“What can I do for you old man?” Asked the other old man,
William slowly put his hand inside his inside pocket of his jacket, the two boys stood took a step back, he took out a £50 note, he handed it to the old man, he took it cautiously, turned it around in his hands as if checking it was real. In a flash the two boys that were stood up went for William, thinking it was easy prey and that there would be plenty more where that came from, and they were not wrong, there was plenty more and William was prepared to give it, but the 2 boys were slow, far too slow for William Fenton, who had raised both hands and the boys went crashing against the wall with such a force, it had split open the head of the first boy, he felt the cut, saw the blood on his hands, the man had not hit them, he had forced them back, the two boys stood and ran as fast as their injuries would allow them.
The Fenton Saga: Never Say Goodbye / There Was No Body. Page 42
