SNATCHED BAIRN: Scottish Fiction

by Anne Bone

  He reflected on his decision to go against his original plan. If only the one he had identified hadn’t been absent, he wouldn’t have taken this little spitfire. That was a good description of her, spitting was just one of her responses to him.

  She had become hard to deal with the moment she had awoken from her drug-induced sleep. When he had gone into the room to see her she had been waiting to pounce, and pounce she had, right at him, screaming and carrying on. He had had to restrain her with more chloroform. The second time she awoke he was more prepared, and she was slightly more compliant. He had explained to her that he was looking after her, and told her he was doing so at her mother’s request. She hadn’t bought that explanation, and swore at him accusing him of lying to her.

  She was however hungry, and had eaten the food he had brought for her. She watched him the whole time she was eating, not taking her eyes off him. She was shown the chemical toilet and turned her nose up, telling him there was no way she was going to use that. She would have to, of course, at some point, as there was no alternative. She would have to remain in her room until she could be trusted to leave it. He brought water for her to wash, but she refused. He suspected that this one didn’t consider cleanliness a virtue. He had given her a cup of hot chocolate laced with one of his sleeping tablets, and once she had eaten and used the toilet she had fallen asleep again.

  He had sat down at her side watching her sleep. He reached over to touch her hair, and delighted in the pleasure this had given him. Her hair was so soft to touch. He let it run through his fingers, tracing the ends of the long tresses, and he felt how this sent ripples of sensuality along his nerve endings. He would look forward to getting to know this one, and how she would look.

  He hadn’t, however, made much progress in taming the little shrew over the past three weeks. Just when he thought she was becoming easier to handle she would suddenly kick out at him causing him to receive another bruise to add to the ones that already covered his shins. He was having to keep her sedated and was being careful not to overdo it.

  The sedatives had rendered her less argumentative, and he had insisted that she had a bath last night. She had been smelly and he found this quite off putting, so he had filled a bath and assisted her out of the room along the corridor to the bathroom. He had taken her clothes off her, and lifted her into the bath. She had told him to leave her, and he had done so, waiting outside until he heard her get out of the bath. When he had gone in to the bathroom, she had covered herself with a large towel and he took her back to the room, where she dressed in clean pyjamas. She had launched a huge kick at him as he escorted her back to the room, trying to make a run for the back door. He had grabbed and pinned her arms back and marched her back into the room. He had locked the door quickly and waited until she had quietened down. Once he thought she was quiet again, he unlocked the door and took her in some supper, together with the hot chocolate that she liked so much. She drank it and was soon sleepy again. She lay in her bed and was watchful of him, and he had found this disconcerting. He would just have to have patience and wait longer.

  I was in my room when I first heard the scream; it gave me a right fright. I am used to the house being quiet, just him and me rustling about. I asked him about the scream when we sat down to eat our supper, but he told me not to bother myself about it. I didn’t ask again, knowing that he would get annoyed if I asked too many questions, so I kept quiet and listened. Something was different, he was different. I was pleased that he didn’t ask me to dress up so often, nor did I have to go through and have more photos taken. I was bored when he did, but realised that if I just shut my mind up and thought of something else, then I could ignore him. He didn’t hurt me, it was just not right, and I still can’t understand why he needs so many photos.

  He had told me I had to stay in my room, and only come out when he said I could. I didn’t mind staying in my room, it was better than my old one, it is cosier, and I have more stuff to keep me occupied. I have some favourite books which I read over and over. I almost know all the words off by heart. I counted all the jigsaw puzzles and sometimes I make it into a game and see how fast I can complete them. He still gives me my lessons every day, and shows me how to do different sums, and he says my writing has got better.

  I can hear him at night, going past my room door, he is definitely speaking to someone, and then I hear the shouts again. I am convinced that there is another girl here, the voice sounds like a girl. Why hasn’t he told me? She must be in my old room. I wonder if her mum has had an emergency too, and asked him to look after her. I will bide my time and wait to see if I can find out who she is. I will keep listening, keep my ear to the wall and watch him. I am sure that there is something different about him.

  Last night I heard a right carry on it, sounded like it was coming from the bathroom. I am sure now there is another girl in the house. She was shouting swear words at him, words I would get into big trouble if I ever used. I could hear Uncle Don, he was shouting back and it sounded like he was hurt because I heard him yell out and say something like, you little bitch, right, back you go. I think that means she is definitely in my old room. I wonder who she is. I am not going to let on I know she is there, I don’t think I am supposed to know. I keep to the rules and if I do then I know I will be okay.

  Chapter 34

  Sunday 1st December

  Danny had decided that he would have to return to work, not only because he couldn’t expect his boss to continue to give him a wage, but also because he needed to do something positive. Four weeks it was now since Shona was taken, and there was not one chink of light to explain what has happened to her.

  Pam had eventually got herself off of the sofa, but normal duties hadn’t been resumed. She hardly went out of the house, but sat around the house in her dressing gown most of the day. She hadn’t been able to face going out, she said, especially after the article that appeared in the middle of one of the Sunday tabloids. They had done a right job on them all, and while Pam had been happy to share her story with them, it seemed that some of the locals had also been equally as happy to share what they knew about the tragic mother.

  She had been absolutely furious when Sam had brought the paper into the house two Sundays ago. She had sent him out to the newsagents to get a copy; the journalist who had spent a whole morning a few days previously, had given her his assurance that it would be a double page spread. She had posed for photos. She had wanted Danny and the boys to join her, but they all refused, none of them wanting to have any part in exposing themselves any further to the public.

  Danny hadn’t taken much notice of her as she had sat at the small cluttered table in the kitchen, while she flipped the pages open until she reached the one with her photo, which was placed beside another of Shona as a small child. She had started to read the article, and as she did so she had begun to swear, ‘The fucking bastards, how fucking dare they.’

  ‘What on earth’s the matter?’ he had asked her.

  ‘They’ve been digging around and talking to, as they say - their sources. Look,’ she handed the paper over to him. As he read he realised that not only had they been digging into her background, but to his as well. There for everyone to read were details about her previous convictions alongside comments about the police being regular visitors to the home before Shona went missing. Reading on, it seemed that they were alluding to the police being called because he had been beating her up. He also had sworn, and when he continued on he also realised that they had been talking to some of the neighbours, who openly had been insinuating that they were not exactly the most caring of parents.

  The last paragraph left a nasty taste in his mouth, as there was a veiled suggestion that perhaps the family knew more than they were saying about Shona’s disappearance, and that somehow they may be involved.

  ‘All I can say is that they are total scumbags,’ he had told her, ‘and, if you hadn’t been so fucking keen to get your face in all the papers, and let them
in, they wouldn’t have been so able to put all this in. So learn, will you, keep your bloody mouth shut for once.’ He had stood up and walked out of the room cursing under his breath, the stupid cow now, he had to walk about with people thinking bad of him.

  So, tomorrow he was going back to work, to try and get back into a routine, although things would never, he realised, be quite the same again. The girls were still with his sister, and he had persuaded Pam to allow them to stay meantime. She had agreed, especially after the newspapers had gathered momentum following that article, and there had been several others who had made suggestions that the reason why no progress had been made wasn’t down to the incompetence of the police, but more to do with the parents having something to hide. He was just relieved that the police believed him when he had assured them that he wasn’t hiding anything. Janet had managed to enrol Kerry into the local primary last week, and both girls seemed to be happy to remain with his sister. He had taken the boys and gone over to see them just yesterday, and while they were happy to see him and their brothers, they never asked much about their mother. They were both eager to show him their new clothes and shoes. Janet had refused his offer of some money for keeping them, telling him that it was not expected, and she and Bill could well afford it.

  He had been sad to say goodbye to them and had made an attempt at hugging them, but it was awkward. He wondered whether it might just be better if they stayed with Janet on a longer term basis, but he chose not to raise this with their mother, who had shown little interest in how they were when he returned. She had been more interested in slagging off Janet, saying that she bet she was happy now she had got her clutches into the girls. She didn’t, however, demand that the girls were returned. He wondered whether this had more to do with her laziness than her maternal functioning.

  So, he was due to start back to work tomorrow, and today they were going to have visitors. Jane Lewis had arranged to bring a woman called Beth Paton to meet them; she was bringing with her the parents of the other missing girl, the one that went missing last year. Jane had become a frequent visitor, and had been suggesting for some time that they might find it helpful to meet with Beth and this couple. Apparently, this Beth Paton had set up some charity to support people whose children went missing, so, after much persuasion, he and Pam had agreed.

  The boys had been tasked with tidying up the house, and had returned from the shop with a cake and a packet of chocolate biscuits. He had chivvied Pam along, and got her to have a bath and get herself dressed. She had then overdone it and looked like she was ready to go out for a night on the batter rather than meet people who had come to offer support. She had plastered enough make up on to make her look more like a call girl rather than a grieving mother. But at least she was out of that tatty dressing gown that needed either to be put in the bin or given a good wash.

  *********

  Marcus was driving Beth and Jenni to Elgin where they had arranged to meet Jane at the police station. Jenni and he were quite daunted about meeting this family. They had read about them in the papers, but Jane had assured Beth they would benefit from meeting with them. Marcus had been less willing to get involved, but Jenni had asked him to come too, and he couldn’t have refused her, given it was her wish to do so. Beth was telling them about where she had grown up, and had them smiling as she described her mother, who sounded as though she was a rather nasty, slovenly woman. He was amazed when he heard Beth’s story and at how well she had turned out. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of bitterness in the woman, and there was no doubt she had been through the mill.

  He listened with one ear as he reflected on how the past two months had been. He was still basking in the pleasure that he and Jenni were able to be together, their relationship out in the open at last. He loved being with her, and found he wanted less and less to be anywhere without her. The trip to Thailand had been wonderful, and in some ways he considered it their honeymoon, without the wedding. He was so glad he had suggested taking her away during the anniversary; it was no doubt a good call as he believed she had survived it better than if she had remained in the flat. The day hadn’t been good, but then he never believed for one moment that it would be. They had spent that day together watching the waves slip back and forth into the blue azure water. The sheltered bay had provided the beach bungalow with a perfect backdrop and it had become an oasis and sanctuary for both of them. They had hardly spoken the whole day, both silently remembering Mary, and while there were many tears shed, she didn’t fall into the quagmire of distress that had dominated her during those early months after Mary had been taken.

  They had spent the days lying in the sun, walking along the sandy beaches, ferreting amongst the market stalls, and making love. They made love a lot; it was gentle, sensuous, loving and very, very satisfying. He had enjoyed the glances of other holidaymakers as they had looked at him, walking hand in hand with this beautiful young woman. He sometimes felt that glimmer of condemnation, as he rightly suspected that people were wondering what a lovely young woman such as Jenni was doing with the middle-aged man. He found himself also wondering the same thing. He realised how fortunate he was that not only did she want to be with him, but she had forgiven him for his insistence that they had kept their relationship so secret for all of those years.

  He wished now he had left Veronica years ago, he didn’t really know why it had taken him so long. He couldn’t really blame her, it was entirely his fault. She now seemed to be getting on with her life without him, and he had been told by Jeff that she was seen out and about with an America oil executive. He had had the occasional phone call, mostly about money, and she had sounded cold and distant. He supposed she would never forgive him, and could he blame her? At fifty-three he was slowing down. He was beginning to release some of his business interests and selling the distribution side of the business had been one part he was more than happy to dispose of. There were parts of that business where, over the years, some of the goods that were acquired to sell on were not always legit. He didn’t want to contaminate what he had with Jenni and, if he was honest with himself, he no longer got a buzz out of ducking and diving in this type of business. He had received a very good price for it and was trying to persuade Jenni that it would be good to have a house overlooking the Mediterranean too, one where they could spend winters when the North Sea was grey. He needed to ensure the money he made on the sale would be secure, out of the country, untouchable, and out of the reach of Veronica if she decided that she did want a divorce.

  He would keep the club, and the other two bars he owned as they were a good source of income. He still had his links with the entertainment industry, and so his promotion of acts enabled his club and bars to put on good shows, which brought the public in to spend their hard-earned money. He had one, and it was a big one, one regret, that was of involving Terry in his private life. He wondered if he hadn’t intervened whether Robert Laird would have been alive and have faced justice. He may have eventually owned up and told them what he had done with Mary, but this was never now to be revealed.

  It was being suggested that this latest case was somehow linked with Mary, but Marcus doubted this. In his mind, wee Mary was dead, and as much as he wished it was different he knew it wasn’t. It hadn’t been helpful to Jenni when the suggestions were made in the press about a link. She still harboured a hope that Mary was alive, and this had been one of his reservations about meeting these parents. It may just mean that Jenni would end up getting her hopes up again, and this would only mean she would get hurt. He didn’t want that to happen, so part of the reason he was here today was to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

  They still had the flat and, to his relief, Jenni visited it less and less. But she still went there, and had informed him that she wanted Mary’s bedroom contents moved to their new house. He didn’t think that this was a good idea and so had been evading doing it. He had spoken to Beth about it, and she had just said that maybe it would help Jenni to move on if she
knew she had Mary’s stuff in the new house. She had suggested that, for Jenni, moving to the new house had been a remarkable event. She was willing to invest her future in him and, therefore, it would probably make sense to assist her in her wish to have Mary’s things around her. Jenni had said that once she had Mary’s bedroom contents settled in the back bedroom, then she would be ready to give the flat up. It was a step by step process and one she felt more able to do.

  As they got closer to Elgin, their chatter ceased and they became subdued. Beth had been in the position of meeting grieving parents before, and she still got the flutter of butterflies in her stomach at the thought of what she would say to them. Neither Marcus nor Jenni had any experience of this, apart from their own direct knowledge of what it felt like to lose a child.

  They found the police station and Marcus parked the car. Beth advised them that she would go in and meet Jane and they could either join her or wait in the car. ‘We’ll wait here, Beth, if that’s okay?’ said Jenni.

  They watched her as she disappeared into the door of the station. Marcus reached over and took Jenni’s hand, ‘Are you alright, sweetie?’ he asked her, noticing her paleness under the tan that she still held onto.

  ‘I’m not looking forward to meeting them,’ she told him, her voice shaking, ‘but… we just have to don’t we? We know what they are going through and, well, at least we can meet them once and show support.’

  ‘Beth seems to think it will help, and she’s been a good friend to you, hasn’t she?’ Marcus stated. ‘I think she has been stalwart in her support to you, so yes, I agree we need to go through with it. But, my darling, I do not want you to get hurt in all of this. You know what I mean don’t you?’

  ‘Marcus, if there was any chance that Shona’s case is linked to Mary’s then we need to be there to find out.’ She smoothed her hand down the side of his cheek, ‘I know you believe and have accepted that Mary is dead, and I can’t explain it, but there is that bit of doubt in me. I can’t help it, it’s just here.’ She patted her abdomen, ‘It’s like a funny feeling, that’s called instinct, and it’s strong, but I feel that she is still on this earth.’