The Murder of a Chicken Catcher
by Brendan Gisby
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: A lot of strong ones.
Description: What can happen when you get lost in the underbelly of small-town Scotland.
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Dying. Oh, mummy, mummy, mummy! Oh, God, fuck! Help me, mummy! I think I’m dying! I’m all alone here. It’s pitch-black. And I’m scared. So fucking scared! I’m still outside, I’m sure of it. But I don’t remember getting here. I remember being at the side of the road and walking into the bushes with her. Then there was that burning pain in my back, and she was grabbing my neck, pulling me down. Why was she doing that? And where was he? Where did he disappear to? Oh, Jesus fuck, Ma! I don’t fucking know, Ma!
There’s no more pain now, just numbness. I can feel wetness on my back, though. And I can feel the wind on my legs and the cheeks of my arse. Oh, fucking hell, I think my strides and boxers are at my feet! How the fuck did that happen, eh? I’ve got a vague memory of being dragged along the ground, people pulling my arms and me bumping over the boulders, and then being left on my face. I keep trying, but I can’t move my head off the ground or open my eyes. There’s nothing in me, no strength. There’s just blackness and silence.
Oh, fuck, Ma! I’m so scared. I can feel my life draining away! Is this really how it’s going to end? Out here, on my own? How did it happen like this? Why did they all leave me to die here? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I? So why did I deserve this?
Celebrating. How the fuck did I get into this state, then? It’s kind of hard to put together the pieces, because the last few days are just a blur. My own fucking fault, of course. Too much booze and smoking weed and not eating. But it must have started somewhere. If I can just figure it out. If I can just remember the last time I was sober and my head was clear. When the fuck was that, eh?
I know! It was the last time I was at work! The early shift on Thursday. That was it! I left the factory, went home, and got washed and changed. I was going down the town to meet some guys from work. We were celebrating the long weekend. The May weekend. Yeah, had a month’s pay in my pouch, as well. I was feeling good, man!
I remember saying cheerio to Ma. That’s when I got the usual shit from her.
‘You’re useless, James, d’you know that?’ she said, not shifting her arse away from the telly, not even taking her eyes off it. ‘All my other children are married and raising families, doing good for themselves. But you, you’re worthless. Still working for pennies in that factory. Out gallivanting and drinking and whoring all the time. And never paying enough for your keep. Useless!’
I’d heard it all a thousand times before. The usual stream of shite. I just smiled, like I always do, and got out of there quick.
So where are you now, Ma, while I’m lying here dying? Still on your arse, eh? Still watching the telly? Are you worrying about me? I don’t fucking think so! D’you know, one kind word – just one fucking kind word – and I might have stayed and watched the telly with you, and gone out another time. I wouldn’t be here if you had fucking cared, Ma!
Anyway, I left the house and got the bus down to Forthtown. Went to the usual pubs. Started in the Dog. Met the guys there. Had a few pints. There’s a great fucking jukebox in there, man. What was that song they kept playing? Yeah, it’s called Baby Come Back. Reggae shit that goes back to the Sixties. Fucking ace. It was pounding in my head all night, man. I can remember dancing to it at some point. Probably looked like a twat, as usual.
Then we headed along to the Hind. Doing a sort of pub crawl, I suppose. There’s no jukebox in the Hind, so we played darts for a while. Had a good laugh. We weren’t there very long before we decided to go next door to the Ensign. That’s when things start to go a bit fuzzy. I know it was still evening, not even dark, but I was probably stocious by that time. No fucking surprise!
I don’t recall much about being in the Ensign, but I do remember some of the guys wanting to head into Kirkton and me getting in the taxi with them. I don’t know why the fuck I did that. They lived there, not fucking me. I could’ve gone home then, for fuck’s sake. I wouldn’t be here now if I had.
So we ended up in that fucking dump in Kirkton – the Keys. I don’t recall much about being in there either, except that it was hot and crowded and noisy. I know that late on I realised I was starving – hadn’t eaten all day, as usual – and I left the pub to go to the chippy. Bought a black pudding supper, man, and scoffed the fucking lot right outside the chippy. But when I got back to the Keys the place was closed and everybody had gone, including my so-called fucking mates. Bunch of cunts! I didn’t know if they had gone on to somewhere else or if they had just gone home. Whatever the case, I was left there on my todd in that shit-hole of a ghost town, wandering about and trying to find a taxi. It was no use, though, so after a while I decided there was nothing for it but to walk home.
I was quite a bit along the road, walking in the dark by that time, when I heard the clock back in Kirkton chiming one o’clock. I remember thinking I’d be in my pit in a couple of hours. And I kept cursing those bastards for leaving me. They were meant to be mates, weren’t they? But they were just like you, Ma. They didn’t fucking care!
Gambling. Anyway, I walked the three miles from Kirkton to the top of Forthtown. It was only another mile to go to my house from there. I was passing along Lawson Avenue when I saw the lights still on in Davy and Angela’s house. I had sobered up a bit by then, but I was tired and desperate for a drink. So, like the total arsehole that I am, I chapped on the door.
The next thing I remember I’m sitting at the table in Davy and Angela’s living room. I’ve got a can and a fag in one hand and cards in the other. I’m playing cards, for fuck’s sake! And winning a wheen of money, my man!
‘You’re a great fucking poker player, James,’ someone – it might have been Chick – said to me one time. ‘It doesn’t matter whether you’ve got a good hand or a bad one, you’ve always got the same face on you. That same glaikit grin of yours.’
I’ve just had a flash of memory of me showing a wad of notes to that pair – what were their names again? – and him telling me to put it away in case I lost it. Where are that pair now? Why have they left me here? Why was she grabbing me round the neck like that? I don’t fucking know!
I don’t know why I didn’t just keep going when I saw those lights on. I didn’t have that far to go. It was fucking stupid! I do know there was a crowd of people at Davy and Angela’s. Chick and Betty were there, I remember that. And I remember other bits of the night, little snatches. There’s me smoking a spliff and being out of my skull again. There’s a lot of shouting at one point, and there’s me lying on the carpet for some reason. Then I’m walking down the road with Chick and Betty, but I don’t know when or why, just that it was still dark.
Hold on, though, I do remember. I woke up on Chick and Betty’s couch, didn’t I? That was on the Friday, so I must have spent the night at their place. Yeah, Chick told me that Davy went mental after losing at cards. He started shouting at me, calling me a cheat. Then apparently he decked me. I think my jaw was sore that day, right enough.
Chick said that him and Betty took me away to protect me from Davy, which was really good of them, because that Davy can be a violent bastard when he’s stoned. Used to go to school with the cunt. He’s always been a bit crazy, especially with the drink. But at other times he’s the nicest guy you could know. He’s like Jekyll and Hyde, man. One time a while back he lost the head and hospitalized poor Angela. She had to have stitches in her head. He did time for that, too. But when he got out, they got back together again, would you fucking Adam and Eve it? The truth is he doesn’t deserve a bird like Angela. She’s younger than him, with a couple of kids from her previous marriage, and still very, very tasty. I don’t know what she sees in him.
Like I said, it was really nice of Chick and Betty to look after me like that. But then the next day they went down the town – to the Dog, I think. They told me not to come in case Davy was still after me.
‘Get yourself home, James,’ I remember Chick saying. ‘And watch what you’re doing with that money, for fuck’s sake. You must have at least a grand there.’
Wait a minute! He said a grand, didn’t he? A grand? A fucking grand! I don’t remember having that much. Where is it now? Is it still in my jacket? My leather jacket? Oh, fuck, I don’t even know if I’ve still got my jacket on. And what’s that wetness on my back, anyway? Is it fucking blood, man? Oh, fucking no! Not blood! Oh, mummy, mummy, fuck, fuck! I don’t fucking know!
What I do know is that that pair... What pair? Yeah, Chick and Betty. They left me on my todd outside their fucking door. Bastards! Cunts! Just like you, Ma! Just like everybody else!
Partying. I took their advice, right enough, and didn’t go down the town. But I didn’t go home either, did I? Naw, I had to play the arsehole again. Like a total tube, I went to that big, posh place up at the motorway. I hate that place, man, but I needed a drink. Had quite a few, as well. But I did finally decide to stagger home. I was halfway there, honest. I was back in Lawson Avenue, on a straight line to my house. Then I met them. My new pals.
I don’t know why – maybe I fell or stumbled or something – but they stopped to talk to me.
‘Can we give you a lift to any place, pal?’ he asked.
Fuck, I can’t remember what he said his name was. A big guy, though. Good looking. Ages with me, probably. I can’t remember her name either, but she was a really nice looking bird. In her twenties, I’m sure. Slim. Nice tits.
Anyway, I did get in their car. I don’t remember how far we walked to get to it or what kind of car it was or even its colour. I’m pretty certain I told them where I lived, but they took me to their house instead. I keep trying to figure it out, but I don’t know where the house was. I just know it wasn’t a long drive to get to it, and it was on its own, with a lot of trees surrounding it. An estate cottage or something.
‘We’ve got plenty of booze in the house, pal. And a bit of weed, if you fancy that,’ he said. ‘Come and chill out for a wee while. Then we’ll get you home.’
So I did chill out. As far as I recall, it was a great fucking night. Great music. Great weed. And I remember having a laugh with them about what I did.
‘I work in a chicken factory, catching chickens,’ I told them, showing them all the scratches on my hands and arms. ‘I’m a fucking chicken catcher, man!’
Yeah, they laughed okay. But they weren’t taking the piss, like everybody else. They weren’t putting me down, like you do, Ma. Like fucking you, Ma! They were just a nice couple who took me in and shared their blow with me and looked after me and had a laugh with me. They were people who cared, just for a change.
I must have passed out somewhere along the line, though, because I woke up on the couch again. But it was their couch this time.
Screwing. I know it was daylight when I woke up, but my brain’s so fucked up that I still can’t figure out where their house was or even what their front room looked like. All I remember is being in their car again. The three of us are going to the supermarket in the town to get more booze. Somewhere – inside the supermarket, maybe – I’ve got that wad of notes in my hand, and he’s talking to me.
‘Put your money away, James,’ he’s saying. ‘You shouldn’t be flashing it about like that. Anyway, this is on us. Your our guest, aren’t you?’
Fuck! My mind’s gone a blank again! I can’t remember being in the supermarket at all. But I do remember us walking back to the car and him saying to her and me to stay there while he goes off to buy more weed.
So there’s the two of us waiting in the back of the car. And the next think her tongue is down my throat and her hand is all over my crotch. Before I know it, she’s down on me, sucking the fucking life out of me. I couldn’t come quick enough, man. Then she’s saying she’ll fuck my brains out when we get back to the house.
‘But what about him?’ I’m asking. ‘You’re his girl. Will he not mind?’
Fucking hell, man, I nearly creamed myself right there and then when she said, ‘No, he’ll not bother. In fact, he’ll want to watch.’
The rest is like I’m in a dream, man. Her and me are on their bed, smoking dope and fucking, then smoking some more and fucking some more. We go at it for hours, man. And all the time he’s watching us. Not just watching us, man, encouraging us! Maybe I’m imagining it, but I’m sure I caught sight of him jacking himself off at one point.
I have to admit I’ve not been with many women. Shy, probably. Thirty-five and still fucking shy! Whose fault is that, then, Ma? But she kept saying I was really handsome, with beautiful blue eyes. She was really meaning it as well. What can I say? It was like a fantasy, man. And then I was sleeping, I think.
A Lost Day. The next thing I remember it’s dark, and I’m back in the car. She’s in front with him this time. I’m exhausted after all that shagging. Fucking drained, man. And I’m still out of my skull. But I’m feeling good, because they’re finally taking me home.
But I’m also a bit uneasy. I can sense an atmosphere in the car. He’s not smiling any more. And she’s very quiet, not looking at me or anything. I keep wondering what I’ve done wrong.
Wait a minute! There is something wrong! What day was that? It was today, wasn’t it? That’s Sunday. I went to the supermarket with that pair on Saturday. Then I went back to their house. That was yesterday, wasn’t it? So did I stay another day with them? Or did I go somewhere else? I don’t know. It’s a complete blank. I don’t fucking know!
I keep thinking I’ve missed something. No fucking wonder, with all those spliffs. I keep seeing faces. My two new pals. Chick and Betty. Davy and Angela. Did I run into Chick and Betty again and go back to their place? Did I end up at Davy and Angela’s again? I’m sure I can see Davy looking shamefaced. I can hear him apologising for decking me. Or am I just imagining that?
And whose car was I in today? They’ve all got cars, man! I don’t know! I don’t fucking know!
Being Murdered. Whoever was driving the car stopped it by the side of the road, I remember that. But I didn’t have a clue where we were. There were no lights out there, and it looked like the middle of nowhere.
He said he was going for a piss. Then he got out of the car, left the door open and disappeared into the dark. As soon as he’s gone, she’s smiling at me again. She says she wants me to get out of the car as well. She’s promising me a last blowjob before I go home. How could anybody refuse that, man? So I get out beside her. We’re walking into some bushes. But her back is turned, and I can’t see her face. I’m not sure who she is any more. Is it her or Angela or Betty? I keep thinking it’s one, then the other. I just don’t know. I don’t fucking know!
And when was it we were walking into the bushes? Was it tonight? Oh, fucking hell! It was only a little while ago, wasn’t it? I know that all of a sudden I felt a sharp pain in my back. Like a punch, man. Then there was another one, and another and another. I’m trying to get away, but she’s got me round the neck, pulling me down. And she’s fucking strong, man! But why’s she doing that? I’m her friend, aren’t I? Then more punches, more pain. Is that him doing it, the big guy? Or is it that snake, Chick? Or Davy, the fucking psycho? Why’s he doing it, Ma? I’m his pal as well, aren’t I?
I can remember screaming out, but it was no use – the punches kept coming, knocking everything out of me, making me too weak to resist. I’m on my knees, then I’m face down on the deck. Then I’m being dragged along and left here.
There’s just silence and blackness here. They’ve gone now, haven’t they? Oh, Ma, why did they turn out to be bastards as well? Why did they turn out to be like everybody else? Oh, Ma, what do I do now? Oh, Ma, please, please help me!
But you’re not going to answer, Ma, are you? Well, how the fuck can you? You don’t know where I am or where I’ve been or what I’ve been up to, do you? It’s not your fault. It’s all my stupidity.
So I suppose that’s it, then. I’m fading now. I can’t hear anything. I’m not feeling anything. It’s funny, Ma, but I’m not afraid any more. I think I’m going to go to sleep, a long sleep. I hope somebody finds me here soon, though, and covers me up, gives me a wee bit of dignity. I’m sorry for my trousers and boxers being at my ankles, Ma – I don’t know how that happened. And I’m sorry for fucking up again, Ma, and for all the things I was saying about you. I’m off now, Ma. I love you!
Dead. On 27th April 2010, fifteen years to the day after James left home to celebrate the May weekend with his friends, the following Police Appeal was issued:
‘Where did James spend the nights of Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday 27th - 30th April 1995, and what were his movements on those days?
Who are the male and female he was seen with on Friday 28th and Saturday 29th April 1995?
James White, who lived about a mile outside Forthtown, worked penning birds at a chicken factory close to Kirkton. He was well known locally in the Forthtown and Kirkton areas.
On the afternoon of Thursday 27th April 1995, James left his home, which he shared with his mother, and travelled to Forthtown. He spent the afternoon and early evening in several public houses before moving onto Kirkton with a group of other locals, finishing the night in the Keys public house. James was among the last to leave the premises. He was seen in Kirkton in the early hours of the morning, when he appeared to be looking for a taxi.
James was not seen again that night, but he was seen in various places around Forthtown on the Friday and Saturday following.
On Friday 28th April 1995, there were several sightings, the last one being in the evening when he was seen talking to a male and female in Lawson Avenue, Forthtown.
He was seen again on Saturday morning at about 11:00 am outside the Tesco supermarket in Forthtown in the company of a male and female. The male is described as at least 6 feet and aged between 30 and 40. The female is described as slim built, about 5 feet 6 inches and aged between 20 and 30. This couple have not been traced despite several appeals for them to come forward.
There were no sightings of James on Sunday 30th April.
James was found dead at 10:00 am on Monday 1st May 1995 in a disused quarry outside Kirkton, about 4 miles from his home. He died as a result of multiple stab wounds to his back. The motive for his murder has never been established.
James did not follow his usual routine that weekend. It was unusual for him to stay away from home for a few nights at a time, and he was not seen in any of the public houses he usually frequented in Forthtown over what was the May Holiday weekend in 1995. This was completely out of character.
If you have any information on the foregoing, please contact Crimestoppers or any Police Station.’
Swearwords: A lot of strong ones.
Description: What can happen when you get lost in the underbelly of small-town Scotland.
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Dying. Oh, mummy, mummy, mummy! Oh, God, fuck! Help me, mummy! I think I’m dying! I’m all alone here. It’s pitch-black. And I’m scared. So fucking scared! I’m still outside, I’m sure of it. But I don’t remember getting here. I remember being at the side of the road and walking into the bushes with her. Then there was that burning pain in my back, and she was grabbing my neck, pulling me down. Why was she doing that? And where was he? Where did he disappear to? Oh, Jesus fuck, Ma! I don’t fucking know, Ma!
There’s no more pain now, just numbness. I can feel wetness on my back, though. And I can feel the wind on my legs and the cheeks of my arse. Oh, fucking hell, I think my strides and boxers are at my feet! How the fuck did that happen, eh? I’ve got a vague memory of being dragged along the ground, people pulling my arms and me bumping over the boulders, and then being left on my face. I keep trying, but I can’t move my head off the ground or open my eyes. There’s nothing in me, no strength. There’s just blackness and silence.
Oh, fuck, Ma! I’m so scared. I can feel my life draining away! Is this really how it’s going to end? Out here, on my own? How did it happen like this? Why did they all leave me to die here? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I? So why did I deserve this?
Celebrating. How the fuck did I get into this state, then? It’s kind of hard to put together the pieces, because the last few days are just a blur. My own fucking fault, of course. Too much booze and smoking weed and not eating. But it must have started somewhere. If I can just figure it out. If I can just remember the last time I was sober and my head was clear. When the fuck was that, eh?
I know! It was the last time I was at work! The early shift on Thursday. That was it! I left the factory, went home, and got washed and changed. I was going down the town to meet some guys from work. We were celebrating the long weekend. The May weekend. Yeah, had a month’s pay in my pouch, as well. I was feeling good, man!
I remember saying cheerio to Ma. That’s when I got the usual shit from her.
‘You’re useless, James, d’you know that?’ she said, not shifting her arse away from the telly, not even taking her eyes off it. ‘All my other children are married and raising families, doing good for themselves. But you, you’re worthless. Still working for pennies in that factory. Out gallivanting and drinking and whoring all the time. And never paying enough for your keep. Useless!’
I’d heard it all a thousand times before. The usual stream of shite. I just smiled, like I always do, and got out of there quick.
So where are you now, Ma, while I’m lying here dying? Still on your arse, eh? Still watching the telly? Are you worrying about me? I don’t fucking think so! D’you know, one kind word – just one fucking kind word – and I might have stayed and watched the telly with you, and gone out another time. I wouldn’t be here if you had fucking cared, Ma!
Anyway, I left the house and got the bus down to Forthtown. Went to the usual pubs. Started in the Dog. Met the guys there. Had a few pints. There’s a great fucking jukebox in there, man. What was that song they kept playing? Yeah, it’s called Baby Come Back. Reggae shit that goes back to the Sixties. Fucking ace. It was pounding in my head all night, man. I can remember dancing to it at some point. Probably looked like a twat, as usual.
Then we headed along to the Hind. Doing a sort of pub crawl, I suppose. There’s no jukebox in the Hind, so we played darts for a while. Had a good laugh. We weren’t there very long before we decided to go next door to the Ensign. That’s when things start to go a bit fuzzy. I know it was still evening, not even dark, but I was probably stocious by that time. No fucking surprise!
I don’t recall much about being in the Ensign, but I do remember some of the guys wanting to head into Kirkton and me getting in the taxi with them. I don’t know why the fuck I did that. They lived there, not fucking me. I could’ve gone home then, for fuck’s sake. I wouldn’t be here now if I had.
So we ended up in that fucking dump in Kirkton – the Keys. I don’t recall much about being in there either, except that it was hot and crowded and noisy. I know that late on I realised I was starving – hadn’t eaten all day, as usual – and I left the pub to go to the chippy. Bought a black pudding supper, man, and scoffed the fucking lot right outside the chippy. But when I got back to the Keys the place was closed and everybody had gone, including my so-called fucking mates. Bunch of cunts! I didn’t know if they had gone on to somewhere else or if they had just gone home. Whatever the case, I was left there on my todd in that shit-hole of a ghost town, wandering about and trying to find a taxi. It was no use, though, so after a while I decided there was nothing for it but to walk home.
I was quite a bit along the road, walking in the dark by that time, when I heard the clock back in Kirkton chiming one o’clock. I remember thinking I’d be in my pit in a couple of hours. And I kept cursing those bastards for leaving me. They were meant to be mates, weren’t they? But they were just like you, Ma. They didn’t fucking care!
Gambling. Anyway, I walked the three miles from Kirkton to the top of Forthtown. It was only another mile to go to my house from there. I was passing along Lawson Avenue when I saw the lights still on in Davy and Angela’s house. I had sobered up a bit by then, but I was tired and desperate for a drink. So, like the total arsehole that I am, I chapped on the door.
The next thing I remember I’m sitting at the table in Davy and Angela’s living room. I’ve got a can and a fag in one hand and cards in the other. I’m playing cards, for fuck’s sake! And winning a wheen of money, my man!
‘You’re a great fucking poker player, James,’ someone – it might have been Chick – said to me one time. ‘It doesn’t matter whether you’ve got a good hand or a bad one, you’ve always got the same face on you. That same glaikit grin of yours.’
I’ve just had a flash of memory of me showing a wad of notes to that pair – what were their names again? – and him telling me to put it away in case I lost it. Where are that pair now? Why have they left me here? Why was she grabbing me round the neck like that? I don’t fucking know!
I don’t know why I didn’t just keep going when I saw those lights on. I didn’t have that far to go. It was fucking stupid! I do know there was a crowd of people at Davy and Angela’s. Chick and Betty were there, I remember that. And I remember other bits of the night, little snatches. There’s me smoking a spliff and being out of my skull again. There’s a lot of shouting at one point, and there’s me lying on the carpet for some reason. Then I’m walking down the road with Chick and Betty, but I don’t know when or why, just that it was still dark.
Hold on, though, I do remember. I woke up on Chick and Betty’s couch, didn’t I? That was on the Friday, so I must have spent the night at their place. Yeah, Chick told me that Davy went mental after losing at cards. He started shouting at me, calling me a cheat. Then apparently he decked me. I think my jaw was sore that day, right enough.
Chick said that him and Betty took me away to protect me from Davy, which was really good of them, because that Davy can be a violent bastard when he’s stoned. Used to go to school with the cunt. He’s always been a bit crazy, especially with the drink. But at other times he’s the nicest guy you could know. He’s like Jekyll and Hyde, man. One time a while back he lost the head and hospitalized poor Angela. She had to have stitches in her head. He did time for that, too. But when he got out, they got back together again, would you fucking Adam and Eve it? The truth is he doesn’t deserve a bird like Angela. She’s younger than him, with a couple of kids from her previous marriage, and still very, very tasty. I don’t know what she sees in him.
Like I said, it was really nice of Chick and Betty to look after me like that. But then the next day they went down the town – to the Dog, I think. They told me not to come in case Davy was still after me.
‘Get yourself home, James,’ I remember Chick saying. ‘And watch what you’re doing with that money, for fuck’s sake. You must have at least a grand there.’
Wait a minute! He said a grand, didn’t he? A grand? A fucking grand! I don’t remember having that much. Where is it now? Is it still in my jacket? My leather jacket? Oh, fuck, I don’t even know if I’ve still got my jacket on. And what’s that wetness on my back, anyway? Is it fucking blood, man? Oh, fucking no! Not blood! Oh, mummy, mummy, fuck, fuck! I don’t fucking know!
What I do know is that that pair... What pair? Yeah, Chick and Betty. They left me on my todd outside their fucking door. Bastards! Cunts! Just like you, Ma! Just like everybody else!
Partying. I took their advice, right enough, and didn’t go down the town. But I didn’t go home either, did I? Naw, I had to play the arsehole again. Like a total tube, I went to that big, posh place up at the motorway. I hate that place, man, but I needed a drink. Had quite a few, as well. But I did finally decide to stagger home. I was halfway there, honest. I was back in Lawson Avenue, on a straight line to my house. Then I met them. My new pals.
I don’t know why – maybe I fell or stumbled or something – but they stopped to talk to me.
‘Can we give you a lift to any place, pal?’ he asked.
Fuck, I can’t remember what he said his name was. A big guy, though. Good looking. Ages with me, probably. I can’t remember her name either, but she was a really nice looking bird. In her twenties, I’m sure. Slim. Nice tits.
Anyway, I did get in their car. I don’t remember how far we walked to get to it or what kind of car it was or even its colour. I’m pretty certain I told them where I lived, but they took me to their house instead. I keep trying to figure it out, but I don’t know where the house was. I just know it wasn’t a long drive to get to it, and it was on its own, with a lot of trees surrounding it. An estate cottage or something.
‘We’ve got plenty of booze in the house, pal. And a bit of weed, if you fancy that,’ he said. ‘Come and chill out for a wee while. Then we’ll get you home.’
So I did chill out. As far as I recall, it was a great fucking night. Great music. Great weed. And I remember having a laugh with them about what I did.
‘I work in a chicken factory, catching chickens,’ I told them, showing them all the scratches on my hands and arms. ‘I’m a fucking chicken catcher, man!’
Yeah, they laughed okay. But they weren’t taking the piss, like everybody else. They weren’t putting me down, like you do, Ma. Like fucking you, Ma! They were just a nice couple who took me in and shared their blow with me and looked after me and had a laugh with me. They were people who cared, just for a change.
I must have passed out somewhere along the line, though, because I woke up on the couch again. But it was their couch this time.
Screwing. I know it was daylight when I woke up, but my brain’s so fucked up that I still can’t figure out where their house was or even what their front room looked like. All I remember is being in their car again. The three of us are going to the supermarket in the town to get more booze. Somewhere – inside the supermarket, maybe – I’ve got that wad of notes in my hand, and he’s talking to me.
‘Put your money away, James,’ he’s saying. ‘You shouldn’t be flashing it about like that. Anyway, this is on us. Your our guest, aren’t you?’
Fuck! My mind’s gone a blank again! I can’t remember being in the supermarket at all. But I do remember us walking back to the car and him saying to her and me to stay there while he goes off to buy more weed.
So there’s the two of us waiting in the back of the car. And the next think her tongue is down my throat and her hand is all over my crotch. Before I know it, she’s down on me, sucking the fucking life out of me. I couldn’t come quick enough, man. Then she’s saying she’ll fuck my brains out when we get back to the house.
‘But what about him?’ I’m asking. ‘You’re his girl. Will he not mind?’
Fucking hell, man, I nearly creamed myself right there and then when she said, ‘No, he’ll not bother. In fact, he’ll want to watch.’
The rest is like I’m in a dream, man. Her and me are on their bed, smoking dope and fucking, then smoking some more and fucking some more. We go at it for hours, man. And all the time he’s watching us. Not just watching us, man, encouraging us! Maybe I’m imagining it, but I’m sure I caught sight of him jacking himself off at one point.
I have to admit I’ve not been with many women. Shy, probably. Thirty-five and still fucking shy! Whose fault is that, then, Ma? But she kept saying I was really handsome, with beautiful blue eyes. She was really meaning it as well. What can I say? It was like a fantasy, man. And then I was sleeping, I think.
A Lost Day. The next thing I remember it’s dark, and I’m back in the car. She’s in front with him this time. I’m exhausted after all that shagging. Fucking drained, man. And I’m still out of my skull. But I’m feeling good, because they’re finally taking me home.
But I’m also a bit uneasy. I can sense an atmosphere in the car. He’s not smiling any more. And she’s very quiet, not looking at me or anything. I keep wondering what I’ve done wrong.
Wait a minute! There is something wrong! What day was that? It was today, wasn’t it? That’s Sunday. I went to the supermarket with that pair on Saturday. Then I went back to their house. That was yesterday, wasn’t it? So did I stay another day with them? Or did I go somewhere else? I don’t know. It’s a complete blank. I don’t fucking know!
I keep thinking I’ve missed something. No fucking wonder, with all those spliffs. I keep seeing faces. My two new pals. Chick and Betty. Davy and Angela. Did I run into Chick and Betty again and go back to their place? Did I end up at Davy and Angela’s again? I’m sure I can see Davy looking shamefaced. I can hear him apologising for decking me. Or am I just imagining that?
And whose car was I in today? They’ve all got cars, man! I don’t know! I don’t fucking know!
Being Murdered. Whoever was driving the car stopped it by the side of the road, I remember that. But I didn’t have a clue where we were. There were no lights out there, and it looked like the middle of nowhere.
He said he was going for a piss. Then he got out of the car, left the door open and disappeared into the dark. As soon as he’s gone, she’s smiling at me again. She says she wants me to get out of the car as well. She’s promising me a last blowjob before I go home. How could anybody refuse that, man? So I get out beside her. We’re walking into some bushes. But her back is turned, and I can’t see her face. I’m not sure who she is any more. Is it her or Angela or Betty? I keep thinking it’s one, then the other. I just don’t know. I don’t fucking know!
And when was it we were walking into the bushes? Was it tonight? Oh, fucking hell! It was only a little while ago, wasn’t it? I know that all of a sudden I felt a sharp pain in my back. Like a punch, man. Then there was another one, and another and another. I’m trying to get away, but she’s got me round the neck, pulling me down. And she’s fucking strong, man! But why’s she doing that? I’m her friend, aren’t I? Then more punches, more pain. Is that him doing it, the big guy? Or is it that snake, Chick? Or Davy, the fucking psycho? Why’s he doing it, Ma? I’m his pal as well, aren’t I?
I can remember screaming out, but it was no use – the punches kept coming, knocking everything out of me, making me too weak to resist. I’m on my knees, then I’m face down on the deck. Then I’m being dragged along and left here.
There’s just silence and blackness here. They’ve gone now, haven’t they? Oh, Ma, why did they turn out to be bastards as well? Why did they turn out to be like everybody else? Oh, Ma, what do I do now? Oh, Ma, please, please help me!
But you’re not going to answer, Ma, are you? Well, how the fuck can you? You don’t know where I am or where I’ve been or what I’ve been up to, do you? It’s not your fault. It’s all my stupidity.
So I suppose that’s it, then. I’m fading now. I can’t hear anything. I’m not feeling anything. It’s funny, Ma, but I’m not afraid any more. I think I’m going to go to sleep, a long sleep. I hope somebody finds me here soon, though, and covers me up, gives me a wee bit of dignity. I’m sorry for my trousers and boxers being at my ankles, Ma – I don’t know how that happened. And I’m sorry for fucking up again, Ma, and for all the things I was saying about you. I’m off now, Ma. I love you!
Dead. On 27th April 2010, fifteen years to the day after James left home to celebrate the May weekend with his friends, the following Police Appeal was issued:
‘Where did James spend the nights of Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday 27th - 30th April 1995, and what were his movements on those days?
Who are the male and female he was seen with on Friday 28th and Saturday 29th April 1995?
James White, who lived about a mile outside Forthtown, worked penning birds at a chicken factory close to Kirkton. He was well known locally in the Forthtown and Kirkton areas.
On the afternoon of Thursday 27th April 1995, James left his home, which he shared with his mother, and travelled to Forthtown. He spent the afternoon and early evening in several public houses before moving onto Kirkton with a group of other locals, finishing the night in the Keys public house. James was among the last to leave the premises. He was seen in Kirkton in the early hours of the morning, when he appeared to be looking for a taxi.
James was not seen again that night, but he was seen in various places around Forthtown on the Friday and Saturday following.
On Friday 28th April 1995, there were several sightings, the last one being in the evening when he was seen talking to a male and female in Lawson Avenue, Forthtown.
He was seen again on Saturday morning at about 11:00 am outside the Tesco supermarket in Forthtown in the company of a male and female. The male is described as at least 6 feet and aged between 30 and 40. The female is described as slim built, about 5 feet 6 inches and aged between 20 and 30. This couple have not been traced despite several appeals for them to come forward.
There were no sightings of James on Sunday 30th April.
James was found dead at 10:00 am on Monday 1st May 1995 in a disused quarry outside Kirkton, about 4 miles from his home. He died as a result of multiple stab wounds to his back. The motive for his murder has never been established.
James did not follow his usual routine that weekend. It was unusual for him to stay away from home for a few nights at a time, and he was not seen in any of the public houses he usually frequented in Forthtown over what was the May Holiday weekend in 1995. This was completely out of character.
If you have any information on the foregoing, please contact Crimestoppers or any Police Station.’
About the Author
Brendan Gisby is McStoryteller-in-Residence. He's the author of three novels, three biographies and several short story collections.
His author's website is Blazes Boylan's Book Bazaar at http://the4bs.weebly.com.
And his books are displayed at these links on Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com.
His author's website is Blazes Boylan's Book Bazaar at http://the4bs.weebly.com.
And his books are displayed at these links on Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com.