SNATCHED BAIRN: Scottish Fiction

by Anne Bone

  She had waited until the men had driven off, and then raved at him. He was clearly waiting for this and stood and let her scream and shout until she was exhausted. She had used words that she never believed would be uttered from her mouth, calling him names that she didn’t even know the true meaning of. He had just looked at her and shook his head before walking out of the house and getting into his car, she supposed in order to follow the van to wherever he was planning to install the contents of his study.

  She now sat on her bed and buried her head into her hands and wept. She had, over the past few months, used everything she could to try and save her marriage. Nothing had worked. She had shouted, screamed and when this had no effect she had tried a different tack and was loving and warm. He rebuffed all of her efforts, so she had withdrawn her labour: no meals were made for him, but it seemed that after all the years of catering for his every whim, he was now able to boil his own egg for breakfast. He ate out at nights and spent less and less time at the house.

  The bills were still paid and he had informed her yesterday, when he had announced that he would be leaving today, that an allowance would be placed in her account every month. The sum he quoted was generous; any other woman would be relieved, but not her. He also advised her that the utility bills would be settled and, therefore, her allowance was hers to do as she pleased. She had told him she wasn’t interested and if and when she chose to she would take him to the cleaners. He had issued that supercilious grin and walked away to continue to pack, leaving her flabbergasted.

  She couldn’t really take it in; he was going to set up home with that skimp of a woman. She had been surprised when she had met her those weeks ago. She thought she would have been more Marcus’s taste: blonde, well-endowed, tall and brassy. But she wasn’t, she was petite and unusual, her face was pixie-like, her dark blonde hair hung naturally on her shoulders, no sign of any artificial colour, as was her face which was free from any makeup. So unlike what she thought Marcus would leave her for. She had been rather stunned that the younger woman was not even that pretty, in fact, if you passed her in the street you were not likely to even take a second look, but yet she had apparently captured her husband’s heart. She had not felt any sense of satisfaction from the confrontation. She would have preferred it if her opponent had put up a fight, but she hadn’t, she had just sat there and taken all she had thrown at her.

  Veronica had been instructed by Marcus later that evening that she should stay away from Jenni; he had informed her that her visit had not made any difference. He had looked stonily at her and told her firmly that he loved Jenni and that he would never leave her. She had almost believed him, but then she knew him better, she believed, than he knew himself.

  He didn’t seem to understand how much he had to lose by leaving her. Tom and Derek had been stunned when she had told them. She hadn’t told them immediately, but had waited until just a few weeks ago. She had been able to tell Tom directly to his face, whereas Derek had to be told over the phone. They were both furious and had tackled their father over his behaviour and his intentions to leave her. Tom had issued an ultimatum to his father, that if he left his mother for this woman, then he would be finished with him. He had been so hurt when Marcus had informed him that it would be his choice, and he would always be there for him, but still he wasn’t prepared to stay with his mother. So, not only was he leaving his marriage, but turning his back on his sons as well.

  Both Tom and Derek had taken her side. Derek had strongly advised her to get a good lawyer, and had recommended one of his friends in Aberdeen. She supposed now it was actually going to happen that she would have to follow this advice. She didn’t want a divorce – that was the real point – she wanted Marcus to stay.

  She had only recently let her close friends know that her marriage was in trouble. She hadn’t really had any other option other than to confess this. They knew she was on her own every weekend, and none could remember the last time they had seen her out with Marcus at her side. She had covered up with stories of him having to travel due to business, but they had no longer believed her. There had been rumours in the town amongst some of their husbands’ business associates that Marcus Davidson was playing away from home. So it hadn’t come as a shock when she had shared with them his plan to leave her. They had commiserated with her, and offered support, but behind her back they had gossiped about how sad it was that a woman of her age was being dumped. All of them hoped that it wouldn’t be contagious and send a message to their husbands that they too should look for a new model.

  So, after all this, she was going to be rattling around in this house, being pitied by the women she had regarded as friends. How would she survive this? She had hoped that the document would at least have given her some element of protection, but now it was gone.

  She marched across to the spare room, the room that had become his bedroom. She didn’t knock, she just opened the door and went in. He was packing a suitcase with what was his holiday clothes, his bathing trunks were in his hand as he looked up to see her approaching.

  ‘Oh, going on a holiday are you?’ she gestured to what he held in his hand. He ignored her and continued to fill the large suitcase that was placed on the bed. ‘You must be very pleased with yourself,’ she told him, ‘you think you are very clever, don’t you?’ There was still no response, so she continued to vent her anger. ‘If you think you have the only copy of that incriminating document then you are more of a fool than I thought.’

  This did get a reaction, ‘I am not sure what document you are referring to, but I don’t think that you would have any document that could, as you put it, incriminate me.’

  She continued to vent her spleen, ‘But Marcus you know exactly what document I am referring to, the one my father left me, the one with your signature on the bottom admitting to your involvement with the bank raiders. You know that one.’

  ‘Oh, that one,’ he answered, ‘I think you will find, Veronica that the document you are referring to no longer exists. It’s gone.’

  So he had found it, but this didn’t stop her from trying to imply that it wasn’t over. ‘But Marcus, as I said, there was more than one copy, didn’t you know that?’ she continued to try and bluff, hoping that she would instil in him a sense of doubt.

  ‘There may be, my dear, but any copy you produce could very easily be dismissed as a fake. My signature could have been forged and, of course, questions would be asked as to why you had covered up this so-called evidence for all these years. Oh, and, of course, your father’s integrity would be called into question, that he also was involved in perverting the course of justice. The eminent Major Summers; his name would also be dragged through the mire and his reputation would take a hit. So, if you want to try, go ahead, be my guest.’ With that he closed the suitcase, picked it up off of the bed and grabbing the other packed bag he left the room.

  She watched him struggle with the heavy bags down the stairs and in all her bluster she realised that she had lost. She was on her own.

  Chapter 28

  October 1985 - Aberdeenshire

  He had tried to fight it, but he found that the more he did so the greater the compulsion was, until it totally overrode his thoughts. The last year had been for him a release, but now he had become bored with her and she was growing, sprouting in all directions. She was compliant and bore no threat to him on any level. He had ceased to medicate her; she would not attempt to leave the house, and would remain in her room when instructed. He had moved her into the other room; this was more open, with natural light that flooded from the two small windows in the slanted roof. The windows were sealed, so there was no concern that she would try and open it, it would have been too high anyway. She had been pleased with the room, it was larger, and he had made it comfortable with girly covers for her bed and a small armchair where she would spend her time. There was plenty for her to do as he had provided an abundance of books and puzzles, she liked both. She did well in her lessons; every
day they sat for two hours where he would teach her. She was a clever child and he was pleased that she was able grasp the context of the various subjects that he taught her.

  He had explained to her why she couldn’t leave the house, and she had believed him. With every passing month, it became easier to manage her. He regarded her now more of a companion, rather than an object to meet his needs. Now he needed to repeat the exercise. He made the decision a month ago, and as soon as he made the decision he began to feel calmer. When he left the house, he would send her to her bedroom and lock the door. While he was sure that she would remain in the room on his instruction he took no chance. This was a house of locked doors. He ensured that his own bedroom was also locked, as was his dark room where he worked.

  He had established a routine. He realised that if you had a routine and kept to it, people in the area would not question him. He had a good rapport with the postman who called most days, and his timing was exceptionally precise so he was always ready and waiting at the door for the letters and parcels. He made sure that he never left the house until the postman had been. He continued to call into the village post office and shop once a week to collect his magazines and purchase the usual items. He had become a regular, and soon the locals accepted that he was a loner, a writer, so they left him alone.

  He would visit the local country town once a week where he used the same supermarket and purchased the same food. He would call into the garage and fill the Land Rover up with diesel, all these tasks part of a routine which meant that no one took any notice of him. He visited the chemist once a month, where he would get his routine prescription. His doctor only required him to visit every six months to check that he still required the sleeping pills he had on repeat prescription. There were no questions asked.

  He rarely had visitors, the distance he had established between himself and the locals meant that they didn’t bother him. He had set the rules, and while he was always pleasant he didn’t offer any invitations, and they got the message, so none were offered to him.

  He had the room ready; it had been easy to repeat the same arrangements as before. It had gone like clockwork last time, so there was no reason to alter anything. He had been out now for three consecutive days, watching, deciding which one. He had chosen and today was going to be the day. He was ready. When he had left the house, he had told her to stay in her room and locked the doors. He had felt that sense of excitement as he drove towards the place, and parked the Land Rover in the secluded place to wait. He had appraised the site and made the plans, and now he waited. He watched, but today she didn’t come. He was annoyed and frustrated. Where was she? He drove back to the house feeling down, feeling frustrated. He had been so ready, so where was she?

  The following day he went again. He watched, but still she didn’t come. As he sat and wondered what he would do next, he spotted another. He hadn’t noticed her before, but here she came, small, blonde, just the age he required. He made a decision, he would act. He watched her approach and she walked towards him along the sheltered quiet pathway which went along the edge of a small wood. He got out of the Land Rover just as she was passing and grabbed her quickly. Before she had a chance to allow the scream out of her mouth, he placed the chloroform-soaked rag over her mouth and it quietened her. He quickly opened the back of the vehicle and placed her into it, covering her carefully with a blanket. He looked about and there were no other people or vehicles in sight, so he very quickly got back in the driver’s seat, turned the ignition and he was off. He felt the adrenalin as it rushed through his system. He had done it. The fact that he had taken a different girl was not important, this was meant to be.

  He covered the thirty odd miles without any mishaps, knowing that this was the time of the highest risk; he needed to ensure that he did not meet any hazards on the journey, and must not raise any attention. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he reached the track and made the short journey up to the house. He reversed the Land Rover so that its back was against the front door which he unlocked before he went to flick the latch of the bookcase and slide it along to unlock the door to the concealed room. He had no difficulty carrying the unconscious child and placed her tenderly in the bed, laying her on her side and covering her with the bedcovers. He stood back and observed her. Yes, she would do, she, would do very nicely.

  Chapter 29

  October – Elgin Moray

  Shona Cameron’s parents Danny and Pam only realised that she hadn’t returned from school at seven that evening. It was her oldest brother Sam, who was fourteen who asked his mother where Shona was. She had assumed that her middle child had come in from school and gone immediately out again to play. Wasn’t she out in the street playing, she asked her brood of children and they circulated around the kitchen table grabbing handfuls of pizza as they went.

  ‘Nope na’ sign of her when I came in,’ answered Sam, his voice had not long broken so it sounded rough and a little squeaky.

  Pam left the kitchen to go to the front door where she opened it wide. She looked left and right outside of her terraced house, and saw a bunch of girls playing under the street light opposite. She recognised them as kids from the street and the ones who ten year old Shona played with. ‘Have you seen our Shona?’ Pam shouted across to them, wiping her hands down her front as she made her way along the narrow front path to the open gate.

  The girls heard the shout and stopped their game to run across to meet her. ‘We’ve not seen her tonight,’ Jessica Archer replied. ‘She’s not been out tonight at all.’ The other two girls nodded in agreement, they didn’t like Shona’s mum very much, she was always arguing with the other people in the street, so they tried to avoid her if they could.

  ‘Where is she then,’ Pam looked left and right and then opened her mouth and bawled out, ‘Shona. Shona yur teas ready, so it is.’ There was no response, so she turned and went back into the kitchen, ‘Sam go upstairs and check she’s not hiding in her room, there’s a good lad.’

  He did as he was asked, grabbing another piece of pizza as he did. Danny Cameron came out of the sitting room where he had been eating his tea in front of the telly, ‘what’s all the racket about?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s our Shona, not sure where the little bugger’s got to.’ Pam continued to supervise the hap hazard meal that she was providing for her five children. There were only three chairs around the kitchen table not enough for them all to sit at once, so the kids ate of the move. She and Danny would rather sit with theirs on their knees in front of the telly, but she tried to keep the kids out of the sitting room, or else it was pandemonium with them leaving greasy fingers all over the three piece suite.

  Sam appeared at the bottom of the stairs, ‘looked in all three bedrooms and she’s not in any of them.’ He informed his parents, and carried on back into the kitchen pushing his younger brother Wayne out of the way to secure a piece of pizza. This resulted in a bit of a tussle, but Sam won, he always did, he was the older by eighteen months and stronger of the two. He had spent his life having to fight for his share; that was one of the unique factors of being part of this family, they all had to fight to get their share or else they went without.

  Pam still wasn’t concerned as it wouldn’t have been the first time one of the kids went AWOL after school. She turned to Kerry who went to the same school, and was just three years younger. ‘Kerry, did you see her when you came out of the school?’

  Kerry stood for a moment, her mouth full. Clearly, she was trying to recall the end of school today. ‘No, ma, I didna’. I saw her at dinner, but not when I came out.’ She went on munching, not worried one iota that Shona was not sharing the food: it meant that there had been more for her. No one seemed to have noticed that when Shona did return there wouldn’t be any pizza left for her to eat anyway.

  ‘Wait until she gets home, I’ll skelp her, she knows better than to go off without tellin’ anyone.’ Pam went about her business; she took a couple of the remaining pieces of pizza o
ff a plate and placed them back in the oven. She wouldn’t see one of her bairns go without, even if they were late, and if she left it on the table the boys would scoff the lot. They had bottomless legs and ate everything in sight. She supposed that it was normal that Sam and his younger brother Wayne needed so much, they were growing lads. The three girls were different, Shona was dainty, in fact, she was often taken for a child of a much younger age. Kerry was almost the same height as her older sister whereas Josie was going to take after Shona, she was tiny for a four year old. Pam had had to take the health visitor to task when she tried to suggest that Josie was not thriving. She had pointed to Shona and informed the nosy bitch that Josie just took after her older sister.

  Pam looked at the clock again and swore. Where on earth was the little tyke; she would give her what for when she got in. There was one thing about being late, but she was taking the mickey if she thought it was okay to just wander in whenever. Well, she wouldn’t have it, she would get the end of her tongue and if she didn’t hurry up she would also get the end of her hand. She directed the boys to clear up and wash the dishes. They were thankful that there were few to wash given that they had all eaten with their fingers. Sam and Wayne argued about whose turn it was and Pam, hearing them, told them in no uncertain terms to just get on with it, or else.

  She made her way into the sitting room where Danny was sitting with his feet up on the stool. He continued to be glued to some football programme. As soon as the boys completed the dishwashing task they came in and rushed to get their space on the sofa, so they could join their dad watching the football. The girls played with their dolls in the corner. She stood and watched them, shaking her head as she noticed that the room resembled a tip. It didn’t matter how much she tried to keep the place tidy, they would manage to mess it up in a matter of minutes. Not that she could on any level be described as house proud. She lit up a cigarette and plonked herself down on one of the armchairs and drew the nicotine into her lungs, relishing that first cigarette after a meal.