“Who’s a clever boy?” said Samreen as she bounced him on her lap. Christopher smiled and gurgled with delight. Maria put him in a highchair and gave him a rusk to suck on.
“Watch this,” said Maria as she took Misty from Christopher and hid the toy behind her back. “Meee, mee, mee,” said Christopher as if on cue. “That is too cute,” said Samreen as she grabbed Misty from Maria and gave the toy back to him. Christopher beamed and cooed.
“You are so lucky Maria, he’s gorgeous.”
Maria smiled.
Maria went to the counter to order coffee and something to eat. She was served by a good looking dark haired man in his thirties. Hello, she thought to herself He’s new. She ordered a cappuccino for Samreen and an espresso for herself. She needed a jump start as she was feeling tired. She sat down with Samreen and waited for their coffees.
“Who’s the new guy?” asked Maria.
“I’ve no idea, he must have only just started,” replied Samreen. They giggled like school girls.
Their order was brought by the waiter and Maria took note of his name badge. He put their drinks and food on the table, turned to Christopher and remarked what a handsome boy he was. He made a fuss of Christopher who wriggled and chuckled in his highchair.
Maria watched the waiter and thought about Rob. She wondered where he was and what he was doing.
“Your little boy’s a proper Bobby Dazzler,” said the waiter. “You must be very proud of him?”
“Thank you Campbell,” said Maria.
The waiter looked a little embarrassed when she’d said his name. He smiled at her and the two women giggled again.
Christopher was getting tired and crotchety.
“That’s not like him,” said Samreen.
“He’s a little tired, I’ll put him in his buggy.”
Maria covered him with his blanket and made him comfortable. He was still crying so Maria reached for his dummy and popped it into his mouth.
“I don’t like those things, but sometimes they’re a life saver,” she said as he stopped crying.
Maria and Samreen chatted, read the papers and relaxed. Maria took a few crafty peeks at Campbell when he wasn’t looking. Samreen watched her and smiled.
“I bet you’d like to get your hands on Campbell’s meatballs,” whispered Samreen.
Maria gave her a playful punch.
Samreen worried about Maria being a single mum and wondered how her life would pan out. She hoped she would find someone to replace that rat Rob.
Campbell looked across the shop and smiled at the pair of them and Maria smiled back. The two women giggled again like a pair of seventeen year olds.
Christopher was crying again. His dummy had fallen out of his mouth and landed on his blanket. Maria took a sip of espresso, put down her cup and reached for the dummy which was covered in fluff. She popped it in her mouth and sucked off the bits of fluff.
“Ewe!” remarked Samreen.
“I know, the things I do,” said Maria.
She put the dummy back in his mouth. As Christopher tasted the bitter espresso his mother had inadvertently passed to his dummy, his faced scrunched up and he spat the thing out and continued to cry. Maria picked him up and cuddled him until he settled. Gently rocking him until he went back to sleep. She put him back in his buggy.
The miniscule amount of caffeine from the dummy was ingested and entered his blood stream. It made its way around his tiny system as it was shunted with every beat of his heart. The caffeine molecules started to counteract Adenosine when it reached his brain which caused his heart to beat a little faster and his breathing became a little heavier.
The tiny amount of caffeine passed through his pineal gland and triggered a reaction which had an instant and profound effect on Christopher and would shape his formative years of development.
As he lay asleep in his cot he started to rock from side to side. Maria and Samreen were engrossed in conversation and didn’t notice.
Campbell came over to take away their empty plates and saw Christopher rolling from side to side.
“I used to do that when I was a nipper,” he said pointing to Christopher.
Maria turned to Christopher and looked horrified.
“What are you doing Christopher?” she instinctively said.
“Does he normally do that?” asked Campbell.
“No, I’ve never seen him to this before, what’s he doing?”
“He’s a little head banger,” he replied. “I did that in my sleep until I was about three. My mum took me to the doctor who told her I would just grow out of it,” he added.
“What do you mean, a head banger?” she asked Campbell crossly.
“When I was sleeping, I would roll from side to side and, when I was a little older, I would bang my head up and down on the pillow. Lots of kids do it, it’s nothing to worry about and he’ll grow out of it.”
“He’s never done this before.” She said picking him out of the buggy and holding him close. Christopher stopped rocking and cooed happily in his sleep.
“See, he’s fine,” said Campbell.
Chapter thirty one
The Awareness
At the same time Christopher ingested the caffeine the Awareness started to rouse after a long period of inactivity.
It was acclimatising to a new level of wakefulness. It had a clearer understanding of what it was and what it had been. Memories were returning faster than before. Images were connecting with sounds. Voices had familiarity. Faces and places were beginning to mean something.
The Awareness was starting to understand who it had once been. Although it had no knowledge of where it was, it was starting to comprehend that it existed for a reason. It knew it had something to achieve, which was to be heard and understood, but the awareness had no idea what it needed to say.
In its present incarnation it was lasting longer than before, as hundreds of connections were being made like little lights coming on one by one. A catalyst had happened which allowed it an increased longevity.
As Christopher’s brain was processing what was happening, he was rocking from side to side. The more the Awareness was evolving the more Christopher reacted by rocking in his sleep.
When Maria picked him up and held him close, the Awareness blinked off like a light going out when a circuit is broken.
Although the Awareness was again latent it wouldn’t be long before it would reawaken. From now on, the catalyst, that molecule of caffeine, would ensure its development and with each incarnation it would build and remodel itself. Each time it would draw upon its memories which would become clearer and more meaningful.
The Awareness was a soul which had found Christopher. In Christopher the soul had a body where it could flourish and thrive like a hermit crab finding a shell in which to live.
Chapter thirty two
Liz Mason’s home
Wednesday August 5th
Liz was at home. She’d left Southmead hospital early in July. She was lying in bed when Anne came into her room to see her. She sat beside her daughter, moved her hair away from her eyes and kissed her on her forehead.
Liz had been in a vegetative state of coma for almost a year. Her father’s good financial position had allowed his daughter to be cared for at home thanks to a team of medical helpers who were with her at all times. Since Liz had left hospital her parents had begun to accept their daughter’s situation and felt better that she was at home in her room. It was a small step but it felt like progress.
Terry had returned to work, which was a good thing, as the distraction of the daily grind of running one of Bristol’s most successful IT businesses helped him take his mind off what was happening with Liz. Although images of his daughter peppered his mind every few minutes, being at work was structuring his life allowing him to move forward.
The medical staff who looked after Liz were amazing. They fed her, turned her in her bed, changed her and managed muscle tone along with countless other daily tas
ks to ensure she was as comfortable as possible. They truly were amazing and they came at a truly amazing price.
Terry had planned on taking Anne on an eight week cruise that summer, but all that had changed after what happened to Liz. Although the cost of the cruise would hardly cover the cost of Liz’s treatment for a couple of months, he had decided to put the money he had saved towards her medical care. He was a rich man, but didn’t know how long it would take for Liz to recover and as his money pot wasn’t bottomless he had to be sensible. The private medical insurances he’d taken out did not cover all of the cost, in fact he was taken aback by how little the insurance pay-outs were, considering the premiums he had paid over the years. He would do whatever was necessary to provide round-the-clock care for his daughter, even if this meant selling his company.
Liz had shown little improvement since she was found in September. She had opened her eyes in November which was amazing. Terry and Liz could not believe what they were seeing and were convinced Liz would soon be sat up in bed and talking.
Sergeant Matthews had been informed and was geared up to visit her as soon as she was ready to talk. She was the only key to unlock the evidence needed to capture Ben Walker’s killers.
Unfortunately things had not improved since the day she opened her eyes. She appeared awake but showed no signs of awareness.
Whilst Liz lay in her bed, Terry and Anne would sit with her. Looking into her wide open eyes was like looking into the face of a Victorian porcelain doll. She showed no emotion and was not aware there were people around her. At times Anne wished Liz’s eyes were closed as she appeared more peaceful, as if she was sleeping normally. Now she had the appearance of a dead person who was alive. Her chest would rise and fall, but her face and eyes remained motionless.
Liz received very few visitors these days. When she was brought home in July there was an influx of callers who had been expecting more from her. Those who called to her home hoped for a smile or a flicker of movement in her eyes. But she remained virtually motionless apart from the occasional twitch or fidget.
Every week a fresh bouquet of flowers arrived and was put on her bedside cabinet. Her friends from Taekwondo had not forgotten her and would make sure every Monday someone from the association would bring the flowers to her home. Anne had insisted that each new bouquet would never include lilies as she associated them with death.
Chapter thirty three
Darlington
August 2010
Moving to Darlington was the best thing to happen to Carla. She was rebuilding her life. Her new school welcomed her and she quickly made friends. A few pupils and teachers noticed how shy she was at times. The teachers put this down to the move away from Bristol which happened at an awkward time in her life.
Her school friends loved her West Country accent. They’d never heard anything like it, other than on television. Some of the school boys said she sounded like a pirate and would call “argh” as she walked passed. This made her laugh. She didn’t mind, as it reminded her how different she was in Darlington, which confirmed how far away from Bristol she had escaped.
She finished school at the end of term and was enjoying the summer break. Her plan was to return to sixth form and study for A levels. Her goal was to study art at university. Right now she was waiting on tenterhooks for her GCSE results, which would determine whether or not she would be attending sixth form.
She had found a summer job working in a café and was saving money to go on holiday at the end of the month with Sarah, who had become her best friend at Hurworth School.
Carla had told no one at Hurworth anything about what happened in Bristol. The memory returned to her regularly, especially as she lay in bed. She would love to tell someone, but it just wasn’t possible. Had she witnessed a mugging, or a car accident, things might have been different, but to have witnessed a murder which had not been solved was too much. She had to keep everything to herself. The only ones who knew what happened were those who were there.
She often thought about Charlotte and wondered what had happened to her. As Carla had never received a visit from the police she had assumed that she, and everyone else involved, had kept quiet and got away with it.
Her father was doing well in his new job. Richard had only been at CKT for eleven months and had already been promoted. He was happy about his career and he was even happier because Carla had settled in so well. He was surprised that she didn’t seem to be bothered about staying in contact with her old friends. Especially with Facebook and making it so easy to stay in contact these days.
He was elated when she told him about her plans to go to university.
There was something Carla hated, and it was something from she could not escape. She hated night time.
Lying in her bed her thoughts would return to Badock’s Wood and that terrible night. She would drift off to sleep, then suddenly wake and sit up sweating and shaking as she was haunted by the memory of the rock crashing onto Ben’s skull and that poor girl being attacked. Sometimes she reminded herself that it was her that ended the fight when she called ‘police’ and how everyone ran. She was sure this is what saved the girl.
Every night, as she closed her eyes, she prayed that morning would come soon.
Chapter thirty four
Bristol
August 2010
Daniel Boyd had cleaned up his act. He’d had to. He’d needed to break away from his life of crime. He knew that if he was caught doing anything illegal his finger prints would be on file along with his DNA and this could link him to the murder. He’d broken contact with the others and moved on from his old social circles.
He had been living on benefits for years and was about to lose them as he hardly ever attended reviews and half-heartedly attended job interviews. Now he was different. He had taken a job in a builder’s merchant and found he’d liked it.
One night, seven months earlier he sat alone in his bedsit and thought about who he was and what he’d become. It was the first time he’d taken stock of his life.
There was a persona that had run its course. He needed to get his priorities straight and his head screwed on. Instead of always running away, ducking and diving he needed to do something different and achieve something good. That night for the first time in a long time he was sober and he was figuring out who he was and working out if he wanted to keep living the way he’d been. He’d become a terrible addict. He was addicted to drugs, drink, violence and crime. But he was lucky as he’d never been caught. He knew his run of luck wouldn’t last forever. He needed to get his life together and figure out how he’d ended up the way he had.
Every time the sun rose, he knew it could be the day his luck ran out.
The next morning he left his flat with a spark of ambition as he made his way to attend a meeting at JobCentre Plus. He was a mess but he was willing to change.
Brian, who was Daniel’s careers advisor, sat opposite him in the cramped interview room. For the first time ever he had arrived for his appointment on time which had caught Brian out. He was hoping to have time for a crafty cigarette in the car park as he knew that Daniel would either be late or not turn up at all. But at half past nine on the dot Daniel was waiting to see Brian.
Brian had told him of some vacancies and one was at Jarrett’s Builders Merchant which involved picking orders and packing boxes. Daniel agreed to go to the interview and even bought a suit from a charity shop to make a good impression. He tried it on in the dressing room and looked at himself in the mirror and liked what he saw. He decided to wear it out of the shop with his other clothes in a carrier bag under his arm. “Interview?” asked the shopkeeper. Daniel smiled as he handed over seven pounds for the suit. The interview hadn’t gone particularly well as Daniel wasn’t good at selling himself, but there was something about him that day which was different and he’d impressed the manager of the business enough to give him a chance. Daniel started work the following week.
His first day was
awful. He’d found it difficult to get out of bed and was scared of the new direction his life was taking. Perhaps he should forget the job and continue the way he was. He sat at the end of his bed and smoked a cigarette. As he looked around his tiny dark damp room it reminded him why he needed to change.
Being told what to do was something he was not familiar with. He was used to ordering others around, bullying people to do what he wanted. Now he was on the receiving end and he would need to get used to it.
That was seven months ago and he was still working. Slowly he was changing. He still drank, but had stopped taking drugs. He bought food and cigarettes instead of stealing. Sometimes he thought it would be easier just to take things out of the shop without paying, after all it had been the way he’d lived since leaving home. He felt frustrated just waiting in a queue to be served and at times was ready to walk out without paying, but a voice in his head reminded him to do the right thing.
He went out with his workmates for drinks on payday, but didn’t have any close friends.
When asked about his past he did his best to avoid specifics and told his colleagues he had been unemployed for a long time and this normally did the trick, no further questions were asked.
He was always one step ahead. He worried about saying the wrong thing to the wrong person which could link him with the murder of Ben Walker. He wanted to improve and be a better person, but there was no way he would give himself up to the police willingly. He was, and always would be, a coward.
As far as he was concerned, if the police had anything on him, he would have been arrested and charged by now. The murder happened almost a year ago, and unless any of the others confessed, he would remain a free man.
The Hill - Ben’s Story (Book One).: A Paranormal Murder Mystery Thriller. (Book One). Page 13
