The Place That Never Existed Read online

  Adam concluded that it was time to lie low until this all blew over. This would more than likely be somewhere between a week and a year depending on the girl and length of relationship. They had been together almost a year, but Chrissy had heavily hinted at marriage, another catalyst to the impending end to the relationship, so in his calculation, this would be a good six-monther.

  Chrissy pulled her vest to her chest and lay down on her bed crying. At first only tears rolled out, but then came visions of memories, which turned into a-future-that-never-would-be-started sobs, which in turn grew into full-blown crying. She had not been like this since Barry Tomkins stood her up at the school dance a few years back. Instead, he decided that not only did he not want to be her date, but he wanted to be a girl instead, which made her feel rejected twice over.

  Chrissy had had big plans. As much as she loved her family and the large house that she lived in, she wanted to branch out on her own. She had lived in the house, within the safe nest that her parents had made for her, but she craved independence. Adam had also wanted to get away from Huntswood Cove. He had talked about it a number of times. They were going to get engaged! She had brought the subject up, and each time Adam had smiled in a way that she knew he was planning the right moment.

  But that moment had never come.

  She thought back to earlier when he had said that they needed to talk about things. He’d looked nervous, and she’d looked at her bare finger and hoped that it would soon have a ring on it.

  Even as she sat down on the bed she was already far away, thinking about the design of dress she was going to wear. She thought about weekends with her mother, going around wedding fairs, choosing each and every detail of her dream wedding. Invitations, favours, photographers, bridesmaids…

  But Adam never went down on one knee; he just looked at her with sad eyes and said this was the hardest decision he’d ever had to make. Words tumbled out of his mouth, but after the line of “we need to take a break from each other”, nothing else registered. Her wedding would remain a fantasy. How could she ever find somebody like Adam? The things that they had done together. The private moments that they had shared, she couldn’t conceive the thought of him doing this with anyone else or telling people through drunken conversations the things she had done. Even the things that she was uncomfortable doing, all in the name of love. The pictures she’d been embarrassed about but that he loved. What if when she became famous they reappeared on the internet or within the pages of one of those red-top rag papers?

  She had to go off somewhere to be alone. She grabbed her backpack―the one Adam bought for them to go camping last year―and stuffed a number of things inside. The last being the picture of the two of them together, smiling like they were more in love than anyone on this planet.

  Chrissy went to get her car keys, but decided that instead of driving somewhere, she would go for a walk. Her mind was flashing a busy montage of her relationship with Adam and how she felt. There was a good chance she would be unable to drive her car safely.

  This seemingly sensible decision carried a heavy irony. An unfortunate roll of virtual dice.

  A drizzle of rain blew diagonally on her as she zipped her Northern Face rain jacket and hiked away from the large house and along the coastal path.

  Staring out towards the sea, she dreamed again of a honeymoon that would never be. Instead of the murky dark sea before her, she thought of the paradise-like azure water, shallow on golden sand where she would wear a two-piece bathing suit and Adam would be in small tight shorts.

  She sobbed again, thinking she would never find love again. How could she? Who would want her now?

  Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out the picture of them, still in the golden frame. At first she smoothed around the face of Adam. “Why, Adam? Why was I not good enough for you?” Then she screamed loudly and threw the picture high and far over the side of the cliff.

  She got up and walked further away from her house towards the woods. The rain was beginning to fall more heavily now, and she needed to get into the dry. The trees would provide some cover for her.

  But five minutes later, a house came into view, and this would be a much better place to dry off. It was the old abandoned house, so she could stay here as long as she wanted, collecting her thoughts.

  She never cared much for the rumours attached to the property—ghosts and tales of haunting. The stories probably stemmed from the minds of teenagers that had indulged in cider and cheap wine, looking and succeeding in scaring each other with unsubstantiated drunken tales.

  The front door was stiff but not locked. She wandered in and looked at the staircase. There was a large hole halfway up, so she decided to stay on that level. Walking through the corridor, she saw the lounge.

  And then she saw the door.

  The door more than likely led to a cellar, and there was something magnetic that pulled her towards it. She fully expected it to be locked, and there was no surprise to find that it was.

  Disappointment after disappointment, she thought and banged the door in pure frustration. The act sprung open a gap in the panel on the side of the wall. She pulled gently and the panel came away on a hinge. Inside was a key.

  She knew the key would fit. Why hide a key so near a lock if the two were not meant to be together.

  It clicked open, and she turned the handle to the door, pulling it open towards her.

  The stairs descended into the darkness, and a small switch gave off a little light below. Down she went, her mind suddenly blank and empty of emotion.

  At the bottom, she saw there was another door and light switch. She opened the door and pressed the switch.

  There was a noise from the other side of the door.

  She walked in and looked towards the noise.

  Two screams shrieked out, and the doors behind her were slammed shut.

  Chrissy would never worry about the breakup between her and Adam ever again. Her life would last barely two more minutes.

  Her parents would be told she’d fallen over the cliff, especially as the picture of her and Adam had been found washed up on the shore.

  Adam was spoken to by the police but released. He was seen leaving Chrissy’s house by a number of witnesses, and was with his family for the rest of the day.

  He moved to Bath not long after.

  THE PLACE THAT NEVER EXISTED

  Chapter Ten

  2016 Honeymoon

  T he last of the plates had been washed up, as Paul and Debbie performed the mundane job required even on a honeymoon. The day had gone well, even if they had been caught having sex by a stranger on the lounge floor. It was a first for them, and something that even Debbie was beginning to find slightly amusing now!

  “I’m full up,” Paul said as he sat on a chair in the garden. Debbie followed, handed him a glass of wine, and sat down next to him, placing her bare legs up on his lap.

  “Me too,” she said, although she had only eaten one burger from the barbeque, with a host of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, radish, and spring onions. Paul had knocked back two thick man-size burgers, enjoying the dribbling juices, smoked cheese, and tangy relish filling.

  “You want dessert?” he asked.

  “That depends on what you mean by dessert!” She grinned and tickled his belly with her toes.

  “Well, that’s always on the menu, but I was thinking ice cream.”

  She patted her stomach which was healthily rounded. “I want to try to lose some pounds, and in my experience, ice cream is not helpful for that!”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to lose anything, even Robin said so.”

  She playfully slapped him. “He did not!”

  “Nah, he didn’t, but it was all he could think about. In fact, I imagine he is returning back to that photograph in his mind as we speak.”

  “Shut up!”

  The sun was just going down, and the air was still thick and humid. The weather was meant to stay like this for
the week. Although as usual with this high pressure, there was a strong chance of a sudden thunder storm, the clouds unable to hold the moisture for too long.

  “You wanna go for a walk tomorrow?” Debbie asked, all the while wondering why Paul hadn’t gone for the ice cream he was clearly hankering after.

  “Yeah, sounds good. Scope out our surrounds and see what passes for excitement around these…”

  “What is it?”

  Paul gently pushed Debbie’s feet off of him and stood up. In the distance he could see a figure walking off into the distance away from them.

  “It’s that boy. You know, the one from the shop earlier.”

  “What, out here? And on his own?”

  “Well, I can’t see anyone else.” Paul walked to the end of the garden where there was a small iron gate. It looked like it had been reclaimed from somewhere else and fitted here. Debbie got up and walked over too.

  “Hey!” Paul called.

  The boy stopped walking and stood completely still. He was still facing the other way and made no effort to turn round.

  “Are you okay?” Paul added, walking out of the garden and towards him.

  As he got closer, Paul remembered the boy’s name. Benji.

  “Hey, Benji, isn’t it? Do you remember me? I’m Paul. I was in the shop earlier.”

  Benji turned his head slowly, a smile appearing. But without knowing the lad, Paul wasn’t too sure whether or not there was any warmth behind it. Benji nodded anyway.

  “Are you on your own?” he asked, and Benji shrugged then slowly nodded.

  The boy then looked out the way he was heading, deep into the woods, and pointed.

  “Is your mum down there?”

  Benji nodded, but then his eyes suddenly opened wide and he started to vigorously shake his head, as if he was correcting himself.

  “She’s not? Where is she?”

  Benji turned and pointed in the other direction. Paul noticed the drawing on the back of Benji’s hand again and thought it would take a good scrub to get the pen off.

  “She’s up there?” he said to the boy, and Benji nodded. “She was out walking with you?”

  Benji shook his head.

  “Did you leave the house yourself and walk here alone?”

  Benji nodded.

  “Come on then, lad, we’d better call someone. Do you know your phone number?”

  Benji shook his head.

  Debbie bent towards him, realising that sometimes a female stranger is often perceived as less threatening. “Shall we take you home?”

  Benji looked over the way he was heading and then back towards where he had come, and through a look of resignation, he slowly nodded once more.

  “Come on then, mate.”

  The three of them walked to the Jeep. Paul opened the back door for Benji, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he’d not heard the kid speak. Sure, children got nervous and tended not to speak to adults they don’t know, but there was something decidedly odd about Benji.

  Paul got in and slowly reversed back before turning round and slowly pulling onto the track. The surface of the track wasn’t bad, but there were enough areas of dips to mean you couldn’t drive more than fifteen miles an hour, which made the journey seem a lot longer, especially as Benji still remained mute and frequently glanced behind them.

  “You okay, Benji?” Debbie tried again.

  He nodded and looked back out of the window, high up into the trees. His mind seemed to be off somewhere else. Perhaps the boy had learning difficulties or was autistic or something, Debbie thought and then instantly felt guilty at jumping to such a conclusion.

  “Come on then, buddy,” Paul said as he turned off the engine of the Jeep. He was parked in almost the exact same place as earlier. There appeared to be no new cars around. Debbie smiled, but her eyes welled up seeing Paul briefly acting like a father. She coughed to unblock the lump stuck in her throat and quickly wiped her eyes. There was no need to open that wound again.

  Paul walked past the shop front that had long closed and knocked on the front door which was situated just around the back of the post office. The sound of a door opening inside and footsteps getting louder could be heard.

  Missy opened the door with a look of surprise to see Paul and Debbie and then rolled her eyes at Benji.

  “Where’d ya find him?” she asked. “Oh, Benji.”

  “He was walking down the lane near our cabin,” Paul said. “I hope you don’t mind us bringing him back? He doesn’t seem to want to talk to us, so we just assumed—”

  “It’s okay,” Missy said. “Benji doesn’t really speak. He’s a quiet lad, although not at all shy which is all the more surprising, he chooses not to speech!”

  “Oh, okay,” Debbie added. “He seems a lovely lad though.”

  “He likes you both all right,” she said. “He would not let you come near him if he didn’t. Mostly when other folk go anywhere close to him, he screams loudly.”

  “Well, if he wants to come and see us for a walk or something, then that’s okay.” Paul bent down to Benji. “Just let your mum know first, huh?”

  Benji nodded and smiled.

  “We don’t want to be no bother,” Missy said a little flustered.

  “Not at all,” Debbie replied, looking and catching Paul’s eye. “We would be only too pleased.”

  “Okay then. Look, I am sorry you had to go and bring Benji back here, what with it being your honeymoon an’ all. I’m sure you were looking for time alone, not babysitting!”

  “It’s fine. Remember what we said, Benji, huh?”

  Benji again nodded but this time held out his hand to shake. Paul and then Debbie complied, noting the cold damp touch of the child. There was something so innocent and vulnerable about him.

  “Anyway, we’ll leave you to it,” Paul added, not wanting to overstay their welcome.

  “Thank you again!” Missy replied, stepping to the side to allow Benji to walk in.

  “Bye,” Debbie said, looking at Missy, and then down to Benji. Benji mouthed “bye” to her. This small little act almost broke her heart again. Memories came flooding back.

  Paul started the Jeep and pulled away, sensing Debbie’s discomfort. Tears ran down her cheeks and subconsciously her hands found their way to her stomach, gently rubbing in large, slow circles.

  “You okay?” he asked, although he knew she wasn’t. He wanted to bring her back to reality and let them both share this together.

  After a deep breath, Debbie finally said, “I’ll be fine. It’s just so raw, you know?”

  He nodded. Emotionally, they had experienced large peaks and deep troughs, and it was almost a miracle they were now married and for the most part completely happy.

  This had not always been the case.

  Because at one time, she was the cause of all of the heartache.

  THE PLACE THAT NEVER EXISTED

  Chapter Eleven

  J ust what the hell should she do now? She had attached the tracker to his Jeep and had spent yesterday morning watching it move down the map on her phone app, along the M4, then join the M5 South at Bristol, and even stopping at Taunton Deane services. Then, midafternoon, it headed towards Plymouth but pulled off a little before.

  And suddenly the tracker stopped.

  There were a lot of places from there that they could’ve gone to, and she wasn’t even sure whether it was a house or a hotel they were staying in. Her plan was suddenly in danger of coming apart at the seams.

  The easiest way would be to find out from a family member or a friend exactly where they were staying.

  The only person she knew she could get this information from was Debbie’s brother Jez.

  He was without doubt a complete and utter moron. He didn’t mean to be, and in fact he appeared to be completely genuine if you met him. What you see is what you get. And of course, what you see and what you get is a six-and-a-half-foot-tall moron.

  It was a complete shame he knew exact
ly who she was, or else she could’ve worn a low-cut top and miniskirt and got everything from his bank account pin number to his mother’s maiden name and the last time that he had cried before she even had to touch him. He was a typical weak man, brainwashed to be a child when confronted with even a moderately attractive woman. She was, of course, even better than that…

  She went on to her laptop and logged in to her current favourite flavour of social media and messaged Bigman84. This was of course Jez’s alias. She smiled when she looked at the photos. The main one for Bigman84 was indeed Jez, although it appeared it had either been Photoshopped to reduce his nose to one that now looked like it fit his face, or the lighting and camera angle had produced some sort of divine miracle. Inside were action shots of other people with Jez’s head added to them. She knew this as the body lacked it’s usually podgy edge and had been replaced with muscles so hard you could lie him down and play his six-pack like a glockenspiel.

  This was of little interest to her, other than mild amusement. She was known as Sexygrl90, her page says that she is from Bournemouth, and her profile picture is of a bikini model from Brazil called Gabrielle Herriou. There is a part of her that feels a little angry at having to have another woman’s photo, as she knows she is indeed considered attractive and, in her opinion, could do all of these bikinis’ justice. Her arse was a lot smaller for one thing. She should be the one that others were pretending to be not the other way round.

  She often mused on whether Nev from the MTV show Catfish would ever suddenly ring her and say, Hey Sexygrl90, we’re here with a guy called Bigman84, and he’d love to meet you! Wow, that would be a show. All of that dirty laundry flapping around in the breeze…