Keep It in the Family

by John Marrs

‘It was two years ago today when you discovered your mother-in-law, the now-infamous multiple child killer Debbie Hunter, was also responsible for the disappearance of your little boy, Sonny. And you have been working with police artists to come up with an image of how you think Sonny might look now?’ ‘Yes.’ On a screen I catch an image of a boy I both do and don’t recognise. He has my son’s eyes and lips, but he has longer hair, a mouth full of teeth and a slimmer face. ‘This is what the experts think Sonny might look like now, as a three-year-old. And I’m appealing to anyone who thinks they might recognise him to contact the number on the screen.’

‘The best-case scenario is that Debbie gave him away to punish us and that he’s being raised by someone who loves him,’ I reply. ‘And while that breaks my heart, at least it means he is out there. But based on what we know about the extent of Debbie’s previous crimes, there is every possibility that he’s not. There have been no confirmed sightings of Sonny at all since he vanished, and the police have no evidence to suggest he is alive or otherwise.’

I understand that Finn was lashing out, his grief and anger merging into one. He had lost everything – his son, his mother, his father and even his identity. His relationship with Emma was the last thing to leave his grip when she couldn’t cope with any more revelations about his twisted family. She ended it, only allowing him to see his daughter at court-appointed times. His lockdowns were spent in solitude. As guilty as this made me feel, I couldn’t take on Finn’s problems and guilt on top of my own. And each time I was around him, all I saw was the son of the woman who stole my baby. I resented him, even though it wasn’t his fault. I’ll always feel guilty for abandoning him, but I had to put myself first.

‘Lorraine?’ I repeat. ‘Who is Lorraine?’ ‘My mother.’ ‘I’m your mother.’ ‘No. You’re the person who stole me and lied to me my entire life. Lorraine is my birth mother.’ I inhale sharply. ‘You’ve met her?’ He cocks his head. ‘You look surprised. Why wouldn’t I want to get to know her? It’s not as if she willingly gave me up.’ ‘When did this happen?’ ‘About eighteen months ago.’ ‘And I’m only hearing about it now?’ ‘You never asked.’

‘I rescued you from the awful life she was giving you and offered you a better one,’ I protest. ‘You wouldn’t be who you are now if it wasn’t for me. I gave you everything. I taught you everything.’ He leans towards me, his voice low but pointed. ‘What kind of mother teaches their son how to kill?’

‘You’d take me out of school to join you on your trips,’ he continues. ‘You taught me which children to choose, how to approach them, what to say, how to lure them back to the car . . . I was eight years old when I helped you to abduct that girl in Leicester. Eight years old. What kind of mum encourages their child to do that, Debbie?’ ‘Stop calling me Debbie!’ I shout, and my raised voice claims the attention of the other patients. A guard waves his hand to warn me to lower the volume so I falsely lighten my tone. ‘I didn’t make you do anything. You were fourteen when you came on your last trip with me. You were almost a grown-up, not an impressionable child.’ ‘I did it because I thought I had to, because I thought you were my mum. You manipulated me into believing we were saving those children.’

‘Because it’s true. He let his wife manipulate him into bringing home a stolen baby to raise as their own. When he saw those suitcases filling up on the shelves in the warehouse, why didn’t he do something about it? Why did he never question where you were taking me on trips, and why wasn’t I allowed to talk to him about where we’d been or what we’d done? How many lives could he have saved, how many families could he have prevented from being ripped apart because he wanted to protect you?’

‘No, I don’t. And after today, I won’t be seeing you again.’ He sits back and folds his arms, almost as if he believes what he is saying. ‘Oh, you will, Finn.’ ‘You’re wrong.’ ‘If you don’t keep coming to visit me, I’ll make sure you never receive another new photograph of Sonny again.’

For much of my life, I had pushed Debbie and my parents to the back of my mind. The only way to move forwards was to never look back. Now suddenly here she was, the sister I had so loved but been estranged from for forty years, caught in the eye of a storm. And the bond we once shared rapidly rose to the surface, as strong as it had ever been, despite our distance. Instantly, I wanted to protect her.

I thought for awhile that maybe George wasnt real or that maybe they had killed him... But i guess not

‘How do you know about George? The newspapers don’t know about him. Who told you about him?’ ‘Nobody has. It’s me.’ ‘George is dead,’ she said firmly. ‘Is that what Mum and Dad told you? I’m not, I’m here.’ ‘Stop saying that! I’ve had private detectives try and find him.’ ‘Then they’ve been looking in the wrong places, Debbie. For years I worked on farms in Scotland, then the fishing trawlers in Scandinavia. Eventually I bought my own place near Store Brattholmen in Norway, where I’ve lived for nearly twenty years.’

Debbie admitted shortly that, after she married Dave, she discovered he too possessed a dark, cruel side, a relic of his own atrocious upbringing. He often became violent towards her for no reason but she believed that she could change him. They tried for a family but failed to conceive, and eventually, specialists informed them he was infertile. He took to drink and made her life hell. But everything changed when, one day, he appeared on their doorstep with a baby boy. ‘He wouldn’t tell me where he found him, only that he was now ours,’ she recalled. ‘I begged Dave to return him, explaining how much trouble we could get into, but he refused. He told me the child would make us a proper family. He said he knew that he had been an awful husband but he could be a better father. But if I didn’t let the boy stay then he would have no choice but to “dispose” of him rather than hand him back. And I truly believed that he would. I couldn’t live with that, so, despite knowing how wrong it was, I went along with it.’

‘No. But when I die, that’s when Sonny will be returned to you. Not a day sooner. And until then, you have to keep visiting me.’

I think back to when I first saw those suitcases in the attic. I knew straight away that Debbie had a history with that house. It explained why she was so eager to buy it and was so reluctant to let us bid for it instead. But I didn’t get to confront her or Dad about it until days later because Mia’s and Sonny’s well-being were my immediate priority after her fall.

We’re in a good place now. Much better than we have been in years. It’s taken us a long time to get here and there’s stuff she will never completely forgive me for, like my affair and Chloe. But she’s found a way to live with it and I’m determined to win her back and not mess things up again.

But I have to admit, that island was a beautiful place for a kid. And as I scanned the darkness of the water, I wondered how far my Uncle George’s body had washed away or if it was still weighed down on the seabed by the rocks I tied to his arms and legs with rope. He regained consciousness during our boat ride but his pleas were unintelligible under the gag. I didn’t much care for what he wanted to say to me, so I rolled him overboard to his grave without so much as a goodbye.

I’ve thought about it a lot over the years and I still don’t understand her boundaries when she’d take me out to a kill. She’d insist I join her in tracking the kids she picked, and sometimes it was down to me to lure them back to our car. I was expected to help stuff them in suitcases, organise the location the suitcases were positioned in and then I’d watch as she’d slip into this glazed, trance-like state, staring at them.

take a moment to scan the shelves I’ve installed in here. There are about a dozen or so suitcases sitting on them, empty ones that were in the warehouse where Dave died and which the police eventually returned to me. Mia doesn’t know about them. Or that I’ve already filled two.

After George’s drowning, my first solo kill on home territory came three months later, a freelance journalist and author called Aaliyah Anderson who wouldn’t leave us alone.

Then, a week ago, I filled a second case with Mia’s friend Lorna Holmes.

There’s a third waiting to be filled and I have an idea who I’m saving it for. I’ve downloaded an ‘invisible’ app on Mia’s phone which allows me to read all her incoming and outgoing text messages on my own device.

‘Can you open them, Daddy?’ asks Sonny, pointing to three cases at the end of the aisle, separate from the others. ‘Just the one, as we’re pressed for time,’ I say and slide the barrels of the combination lock until the bar opens. I place it on the floor and he eagerly opens the lid like he is unwrapping a Christmas present. Inside are four human skulls that belong to the owners of several houses Debbie’s parents moved into and killed.

I help Sonny to pack away the skulls and tell him we can come back again soon, but only if he promises again not to tell anyone, especially his mum. I remind him it’s our secret and that if Mia ever found out, he would be sent back to Norway and we would never get to live together as a family. He hates the thought of that not happening.

Sonny was heartbroken when he thought the dog had escaped from his grandparents’ garden weeks later, and, as I hoped, turned to his mum and I for comfort. Nobody knows that I took the dog and left it tied to a tree in woodland a few miles from here.

One thing is for sure though. I’m not going to manipulate him like I let Debbie manipulate me. I’m going to teach him how to be his own man, to follow his own path and to protect himself from anything that threatens to interfere with that. Only if he is at risk will I step in and do whatever is necessary to safeguard him, like any decent parent would. I will never let him down again.

I may have felt guilty about the kids I helped her to find, but not the lives I have since taken. Her lessons and her nurture of me will help me to protect Sonny. But I promise I won’t involve him in what I do like Debbie did with me. Not until he’s much older than he is now. Not until he is ready.