THE DISAPPEARANCE CONCLUDES: 'Steven' by Richard Wells

“It’s time for me to move on – again - Dad!” I remove the dying flowers from the vase and replace them with a fresh, petrol-station bunch. The display looks a bit thin so I pinch one or two extra blooms from nearby graves.

“That looks better. They’ll never miss them.” I reach for a ready-made roll-up. I know as a regular smoker, Dad won’t mind. And like me it wasn’t just tobacco he inhaled.

“I went down to see Sarah, to sort of say goodbye. Had my old clothes on – well she wouldn’t be used to seeing me in a suit. She hasn’t changed, offered me a spliff and was surprised when I refused. To be honest we didn’t really have much to talk about. I can’t believe we spent a whole year together –till I moved back north. Still she was good for me. I’d just been released and she helped me get things back together. So different from the saintly Rebecca – mum’s favourite, although I’m not sure you ever really liked her.” I take a sip of water.

“Talking of mum – which I’d rather not – I can’t forgive her for what she did to you. I only found out recently. Well I won’t be seeing her again. She was the start of most of my problems. I never knew why she wanted me to be a medic – me! I just wanted to make money, which I did once I’d dropped out, selling dope, easy money until I got caught.”

I unzip my bag just to check the cash is there. Passport’s in my pocket – Ellie thought I’d lost it, but it was just a ploy.

“It’s Ellie I feel sorry for. I’d always fancied her even when she was still married to Danny. Anyway, Dad, I’ve written this letter to her. I hope you don’t mind if I read it to you. I kept a copy.

Dear Ellie

I’ve never been any good at telling you personal stuff – face to face I mean.

It was all great when we started, an instant family – me, who couldn’t have kids.

But we lost our way didn’t we and I’m not really cut out to be a dad. And I couldn’t handle all that stuff about your past.

No doubt mum will be round, bothering you. My advice is to stay away from her – but you probably don’t need me to tell you that.

Oh, and the same goes for Jim. You must realise he’s had his eye on you – he’s so bloody obvious. Steer clear of him. I mean he’s a good drinking partner – he’s the reason I’ve put so much weight on - but beyond that there’s nothing there. And he still owes me money.  

As for the business – I’ve had to wind it up. I’ve put some money in your account to tide you over.

That’s about it really. As you’ve probably guessed, I won’t be coming back.

Thanks for the good times

Steven

“Do you think that sounds OK Dad? I was never any good with words. Frankie said she’d post it for me, once I’m out of the country. You always had a soft spot for Frankie. Well I did ask her to come with me, but she turned me down. It was a bit of a shock. She said I shouldn’t confuse liking with loving.”

I notice the headstone is flaking, pick out a sliver and put it in my pocket, something I can hang on to when I think of Dad.

“I’ve kept it to myself, but the business did really well, although you won’t be surprised to hear that I sailed too close to the wind. I can do with figures what I can’t do with words and there are plenty of people who want their books sorted out – creatively - if I can put it that way. I got rid of the evidence, paperwork shredded, laptop wiped, hard drive destroyed. Bit of a job that.

“So this is it Dad. I’ve got my usual train to catch and then a plane. Not sure where yet. I won’t forget you, I promise.”