Chapter 1

I suppose I should really go back to when I was a child to start telling my story. I think I must have been about five or six when my parents lashed out and brought a holiday caravan down on the south coast near Weymouth. From that time on every school holiday we travelled down there for the duration of the breaks.

Of course, my dad couldn't come with us to the caravan every time we went because he had his work commitments. So, for most of the year it was just my mother, my two sisters and me. After a couple of years my dad bought a bigger caravan and then a varied collection of friends and relatives were invited to join us for a break away from the city.

There were quite a few other families from all over the country who also had caravans on the site. So when mum took us down on her own and we didn't have dad with the car to go out in, my sisters and I would kick about the site and the local area. We were lucky to have a family car back in the fifties; not all that many families had cars back then and, unfortunately, my mother never could get her head around driving. Although she did manage to frighten the life out of a couple of driving instructors before she gave up on the idea.

There were always other kids on the site for me to play with. My sisters always considered they were above playing with little boys. The person who became my best friend whilst I was down there was Harry.

Harry was a year older than I was, but for some reason we hit it off together the first time we met. Harry sported a massive red birthmark all over the left-hand side of her face, and for some reason that I could never understand when I was that age, she was shunned by most of the other children because of it. The birthmark never seemed to bother me, and Harry being a real tomboy turned into a good friend too whilst I was down there.

As a matter of fact, if Harry's family didn't go down to Weymouth on any particular school holiday, I found the place very boring. Harry was an only child and we seemed more like brother and sister than just friends. My two elder sisters were a pair of stuck up little cows when they were young.

As life went on and we got older, climbing on the cliffs and throwing stones into the sea began to lose its interest for Harry and me. Over the years we had explored just about every nook and cranny within miles. We'd found where we could hide and watch the young couples making out. It was fun as ten-year-olds to try and understand what they were doing. But as we got older and wiser to the ways of the world, we began to feel uncomfortable when we sneaked up to watch them together. Nothing was ever said but we were such close friends that we seemed to sense what each other felt inside.

Harry and I were considered old enough by then to catch the bus into Weymouth on our own, where we explored the town and harbour. There were occasions when some ignorant people would make some comment about Harry's face and there were a couple of times when I got into fights with other kids over it. I knew it upset Harry when they made comments about her face.

It was probably when I was about twelve that Harry started wearing make-up to hide her birthmark. To be honest I thought it looked worse than the bloody birthmark, but I never said anything. Harry and I started going to the dance in the club on caravan site. Oh, we'd been there many times over the years. They had children's entertainment during the morning then as the day went on the dancing started for kids; younger kids in the afternoon and then for the older ones in the early evening and the adults later.

But Harry and I were dancing with the older kids now. The bouncers were old friends to Harry and me. If anyone ever said anything about Harry's birthmark, generally the bouncers were there before I had a chance to react. I think they watched me as they realised I wouldn't stand for anyone upsetting Harry.

It was the Easter of my fifteenth year that Harry vanished. My whole family travelled down to Weymouth on the Thursday before Good Friday. I went straight over to Harry's caravan only to find it was still closed up for the winter. Investigations at the site office informed me that the caravan had been sold. The rest of that break was the worst holiday I had ever had.

My mum and dad took me out every day. My dad told me later that he tried to find out what had happened to Harry and her family. It was years later that he told me that Harry's father had died of influenza during the winter. Her mother couldn't afford to keep up the caravan so she had sold it. Dad was hoping he would be able to find out Harry's address so that I could at least write to her. But he was unsuccessful.

Harry and I were friends at the Weymouth but for some reason it had never occurred to us to get each other's addresses and write. All I knew was that she lived near Bath somewhere.

After Harry was no longer there, Weymouth lost its interest for me. That summer I stayed home with my dad, when my mother and sisters went to Weymouth. Dad and I went down for his summer break from work. But the rest of summer I kicked about with my school friends.

The following year my mother decided that it was about time we joined in the latest boom; that was to go abroad for our summer holiday. I think my sisters, who were by that time dating boys, were beginning to put some pressure on her about being away from their current squeezes for so much of the year.

The caravan was sold and the clan set off for a couple of weeks in the sun. Small point, not by plane but by train; the journey taking twenty-four hours. I joined the family for their first couple of trips to Rimini in Italy. But by the time I was eighteen I wanted to get away with my mates. So I stopped joining them.

The pop festivals were becoming the thing by then and that's where the boys and I went whenever the opportunity presented itself. It was the sixties and boy did we have a good time of it for a few years. When I had finished college I tried a plethora of jobs without being able to settle in any of them.

I was by then the proud owner of a 1959 model Hillman Minx. My private nooky wagon. One day when my employer said something I didn't like - I'm buggered if I can remember what - I told him to stick his job — that I couldn't stand anyway — up his arse and walked out.

I hadn't driven far when stopping at a set of traffic lights, I felt a hard bump as someone ran into the back of the Hillman. I climbed out to be confronted by a truck driver who apologised profusely. I can't remember how the conversation went but it finished up with me following him back to his yard which was nearby, were his boss promised to foot the bill for a new rear bumper and have it fitted.

The following day I took the car down to the transport yard to have the new bumper fitted and I sat and waited in the reception office while it was being done. You know strange things can happen in your life. When some bloke stuck his head in the door and said come with me, like a lamb I followed him.

Exactly why I never asked him why he wanted me to climb into the driver's seat of a lorry, I've never been able to figure out. I sat there like a dummy as he pointed out all the controls and explained the gearbox layout. Then when he said right out the gate and turn left, I just started the engine did what he told me to. I drove the truck for about thirty minutes before we got back to the yard.

As I parked the truck, he said to me, "You'll do. If you were to ask me, I'd say you're a natural."

Then he got out and started walking back toward the office.

I followed him and as we went through the door, the boss who I had met the previous day came out of an inner office and said to the guy, "Mitch, I thought I asked you to take that guy on a driving appraisal?"

"I did. He'll do fine!"

"How'd you manage that when he's still sitting in my bloody office?"

Well, I was unemployed, so the upshot was, I got the job and the other guy didn't. The following Monday I was on the road as a truck driver. I've got to say that I enjoyed myself. Now, for the first few months I didn't have the faintest idea what I was doing. But I found that I had a brilliant sense of direction. Back in those days drivers looked after each other, and there are many of them who I have to thank for teaching me how to load trucks properly and how to rope and sheet it down.

It seemed being out on the road suited my temperament; it was the first job that had I really enjoyed and settled down in. I soon found that there were a few companies who were asking my boss to send me when they hired a truck. I gathered he liked that, as it proved to him that I was doing a good job and keeping his customers happy.

At Marshal's, one of the places that I regularly picked up loads from, there was a girl working in the dispatch office by the name of Thelma. Thelma was a doll in every sense of the word. She dressed to tease the guys and lapped it up as they ran around her. Her short skirts and tight blouses showed off her gorgeous figure. And her high heels showed off her legs to perfection.

I figured Thelma was a tease the first time I went to Marshal's. Now I'm no slouch around women but I'm not the kind of bloody fool whose tongue hangs out at the sight of a nice pair of legs or a tasty bum. I let the dumb arses chase after Thelma and I was strictly business in my dealings with her. Which was every time I called there, as she looked after dispatch.

As time went on I found that I was going to Marshal's more often until it appeared I was working for them almost exclusively along with a couple other of our drivers. I must admit I enjoyed working for them; it was like one big happy family there. That's more than you could say for most companies. I/we had full run of the place whilst waiting for our load/s and access to the canteen at will. Old man Marshal prided himself on knowing every member of his two hundred odd strong work force by name. Before too long he knew my name and that of the other two drivers from our firm who regularly worked for him.

It was early December, I pulled into our yard one Friday night to fill up my diesel tank and collect my wages. When I got into the office, Mr Wilkins, my boss came out and asked, "Right, boy, what are your plans for tomorrow then?"

It was nothing he hadn't asked me before, normally the precursor to him asking me to do a driving job on the Saturday.

"Nothing special. What've you got on then, Boss? I replied.

"Have you got a decent suit, boy? We're going to Marshal's Christmas do. He invites us every year and if we don't all turn up, the old bugger will get upset."

"Fine by me, boss. I can scrub up quite well when I need to, you know."

"Right. I'll meet you here at the yard at six-thirty. George and Jack are driving up together, but I'll have plenty of room in my car for you; you can ride with the wife and me."

I was a little curious as to why George and Jack were not going to travel with the boss and his wife as well, because his bloody great Jag could easily carry five. But I said nothing.

The following afternoon, I was feeling like I was dressed up like a turkey; since I'd been on the road, I hadn't had reason to wear any of my suits. I climbed into my boss's car for the ride to Marshal's factory where the "do" was going to be held in that massive canteen.

Mr Wilson insisted I called him "Bill" for the evening. But I knew that on Monday it would be back to "Boss" again. He introduced me to his charming wife and I wondered how the old bugger caught such a babe. I figured the answer was probably money, but we'll forget that, as it is unimportant to my story.

As soon as we arrived at Marshal's, George and Jack, along with their respective wives joined us and I realised why they hadn't travelled with us. I did wonder why I hadn't been told I could take a guest, not that I had anyone particular in mind. But if wives were invited surely girlfriends would be as well. I put it down to an oversight by Bill Wilkins.

Mr and Mrs Wilkins sat at the top table with old man Marshal, his wife and all his directors and, I supposed, the bosses of some of the other firms that contracted to him. The five of us wandered around the tables looking for our allocated seats. It was with a little consternation that we found the seat with Jack, George and their wives names on, but we couldn't find mine nearby.

I was wandering around for some time and just beginning to suspect that I had been forgotten. I'll be honest, if I couldn't find my seat I was intending to slip outside and hide until after the meal. But suddenly Thelma tapped me on the shoulder and led me to my seat, which was alongside hers.

Come on, I'm not as daft as I look. Thelma was sitting in the seat that my escort would have sat in had I been told I could bring one. And that of course meant that I was sitting in the seat where her escort should have been sitting, somehow I got the feeling I'd been set up.

Old man Marshal was doing the rounds whilst we waited for everyone to get themselves sorted out and seated. When he came up to me, after thanking me for coming and all the good work I'd put in on his behalf, he said, "Well, my boy, our lovely Thelma here didn't have an escort for this evening. I hope you don't mind looking after her for me?"

I assured him I would but I couldn't help wondering just why the lovely Thelma hadn't been able to find a date. The meal that evening was served by outside caterers, as all the canteen staff had been invited. There were some of them at our table and I watched as they scrutinised everything the caterers did and served up. I doubt that any meal has ever been so closely inspected.

The meal was followed by interminable speeches. The tables were moved to the side and a group started playing. The music was strictly middle of the road designed to appeal to all the staff, whose ages varied between sixteen and sixty.

Thelma and I danced together, but a couple of guys came up and asked her to dance as well. By about ten-thirty I'd had maybe a little more of the free booze than I should have. Whilst dancing to a slow number with Thelma that I was finding a little arousing, I asked her how come she hadn't been able to find a date for the evening. Thelma giggled, I think she had drunk more than she should have as well.

"Don't be silly. I could have found plenty of guys who would have loved to come, but I wanted to spend the evening with you."

"Why?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't?"

"Well, because you intrigue me."