Ben (11 page)

These are the events of 24 July 1991.

Apart from it being about 110 degrees, it had begun as just another normal day in paradise for my family. Dad had driven the Land Rover up to work on the farm as usual, and Stephen had gone on his motorbike. Then I had arrived at the caravan and set off for work, and Ben and Mum had had the whole day in front of them.

After I’d left, Mum got Ben washed and changed in the clothes I had brought with him. I’d pulled out little shorts, brown sandals and a white shirt with a hint of a green pattern. Mum was very close to catching a bus into Kos Town but at the last minute decided it would be nice to push Ben up to see his granddad and uncle working at the farmhouse. Iraklis was about a forty-minute walk and most of it was uphill. Mum was fit enough. Danny wasn’t at school and he’d be okay with the distance. In fact, Mum was more worried about Ben the corgi’s little legs managing the walk with them in the midday sun.

It was a picturesque route and Mum was in no rush so they actually took closer to fifty minutes. Ben alternated between spotting the animals in the fields with Danny and bashing two toy Dinky cars together. They were all covered in sun cream and
Ben had the shade from his buggy roof, so it was just a lovely, idyllic day.

After about half an hour they reached the fork where the road continued one way and a dusty old lane led off in the opposite direction. Mum turned off and struggled with the pushchair on the loose-stone surface. Greek roads aren’t magnificent at the best of times. This wasn’t even a road. It led past a handful of houses at the bottom, a building site where a villa was being constructed from scratch, then an odd-looking villa raised above road level and finally the loose-chipped driveway leading off to Michaelis’s property at the top. The only thing past there was forest.

The farmhouse was set back about twenty yards from the lane so Mum released Ben from the pushchair and he and Danny and the dog scampered over to surprise Dad and Stephen. It worked. Michaelis saw them first.

‘Eddie, you didn’t tell me your lovely family was coming.’

‘I didn’t know myself!’

It was an exaggeration to call the building a farmhouse because it was so rundown, but that is what it used to be and hopefully would be again. It was a single-storey building that looked out towards the mountains in one direction and fields and woods in the other. Everything needed repairing or replacing. There were no doors, just frames, which had left it at the mercy of the weather and any passing animals for years. The overgrown garden had had to be hacked back even to access the place. The kitchen and bathroom all had to be stripped out and the walls, ceilings and floors were all going to be virtually rebuilt. It was a massive project, guaranteed to keep Dad and Stephen busy for the best part of a year.

Ben loved the place immediately. For a start, the fields in the distance had goats and cattle. Also, with no doors or furniture in the way, he could whizz around the place with his cars while the men worked outside on the guttering. Best of all, Dad and Michaelis had bags and boxes of the most exotic-looking tools. As soon as one of them stepped up a ladder, Ben dived into their kit and took out a clamp or a spirit level or trowel. Mum was never more than a few feet behind, always reminding Ben, ‘Put that down. It’s not yours.’

Michaelis had a different response.

‘Christine, let the boy play. As long as it’s not sharp, I’m happy for him to have it.’

The typical response of the laid-back Greeks where children were concerned. Whether Ben was raiding their tool bags, pinching their sun cream or asking for pork from their plates in restaurants, they all said the same thing: ‘It’s okay, it’s no problem.’

It was nearly lunchtime anyway, so there wasn’t much trouble for Ben to get into. Mum had brought a few things to eat but Michaelis saw it as a special occasion. He sent Stephen out on the motorbike to a shop in the village where he had an account. We all knew the shop well. It was run by a woman called Xanthippe – or Sissy as she liked to be called – who dressed more like a lawyer, even though she spent her day cutting hams and selling lilos to tourists. We often shopped there. Whenever we went to or from the beach, we had to pass Sissy’s shop and Ben would always ask for the same thing: ‘Ice cream!’ Sometimes he got his way. On other occasions, particularly if lunch or dinner weren’t far away, I’d say no. Usually that was fine. Once or twice, however, Ben decided that wasn’t good enough. He screamed the place down
until Sissy came out with an ice cream for him. After that, whenever she saw him she would hand one over. It was a really sweet thing to do, although annoying if I’d already said no.

Sissy was surprised at the size of Stephen’s order of cheeses and meats.

‘You are hungry today?’ she said.

‘It’s not all for me!’

He explained that Mum and Danny and the two Bens had paid them a surprise visit. Then, loading up the water and food, he sped back up the mountain to the farmhouse.

They all sat down on chairs or boxes and had a typically Greek lunch. Ben was eating on the go, too excited to stay still longer than it took to pick up half a cucumber or a tomato. Then he’d wander off eating them like an apple, popping back for some bread and olives when he ran out.

It was a blissful afternoon. Those who wanted the sun sat in it and those who didn’t had the shade of the trees. And it was so peaceful. Earlier in the day there had been a digger truck transporting rubble from a building renovation at the bottom of the lane to the top. The driver had to pass the farmhouse to dump the hardcore ready to be used to improve the dirt track before driving back down again, kicking up a trail of dust with its heavy wheels as it went. But now building work had stopped there for the day, and they were able to eat undisturbed.

By coincidence, it turned out to be the perfect day to visit. Michaelis had ordered a shipment of supplies for the roof but the delivery truck hadn’t arrived first thing as promised. By the time they finished lunch, the men had pretty much written off any hope of it arriving that day at all. It was frustrating for them, but it did
mean everyone could enjoy their food and conversation without hurrying.

‘We’ll give it another hour,’ Michaelis sighed, ‘and then you may as well go home early, Stephen.’

So they waited and ate some more, and all that time they were royally entertained by a tiny jester. Ben had discovered a water barrel and after he’d skimmed his cars along the surface he’d started scooping bowlfuls out to mix potions with dirt and leaves. When he tired of that, the next scoop was tipped straight over his own head.

I suppose it was pure instinct to try to cool down in that savage heat. Even so, the look of shock on Ben’s face as the water soaked him made it look like he’d jumped into a shower of ice.

Stephen saw it happen and burst out laughing. Everyone else joined in when they saw the drowned rat dripping in front of them. That was enough for Ben. That boy lived for laughter. He thrived on it. So, uncomfortable as he was, what did he do?

Scooped another bowl of water onto his head.

The laughter was even louder this time, more so when he yelled, ‘I’m so funny!’ Of course, he carried on dousing himself until Mum put a stop to it and dried him off. She hung Ben’s shorts from a tree to dry and told him not to get anything else ruined because there were no spares. Ben didn’t care about wearing only a T-shirt and little buckled sandals any more than he did about being wet. He just loved being a showman.

With that little performance over, Ben moved onto his next escapade. This involved jumping on the gravel mounds, then taking handfuls of the stuff through the house and dumping them out the other side. Every couple of minutes he’d be back. Even
when he wasn’t in sight, his laughs and imaginary conversations with his tools could still be heard.

Finally, Michaelis gave up on the hope of the delivery arriving and told Stephen to go home early.

‘Even if the materials arrive, it will be too late to start.’

Dad agreed, adding, ‘Grab the jerry can, son, and fill it up at the garage.’ They would need the diesel for the generator in the morning.

Stephen disappeared behind the house where the vehicles were parked. He didn’t have to hunt for Ben because his nephew came trotting over, and not to say goodbye. The only thing Ben loved more than his toys was other people’s – and Stephen’s motorbike was top of that list.

‘Bike! Bike!’

Usually Stephen was as weak as the rest of us when it came to turning down a request from his nephew – Ben pretty much had us all wrapped round his little finger half the time. But not today. Stephen had an errand to run and the sooner he got it over with, the quicker he could enjoy his rare few hours off.

‘Go back to Granddad, Ben,’ Stephen said. ‘No rides today.’

He shooed Ben away and made his escape. From the other side of the farmhouse, everyone heard the little 50cc engine fire up and the fading volume as Stephen sped away down the lane.

It was about two minutes after that Mum said, ‘Ben’s gone quiet.’

Dad laughed. ‘He can’t be up to any good.’

‘I’d better go and check. He’s probably cuddling a stray cat to death.’

Mum left the others and walked casually through the house. She didn’t call Ben, not at first. She expected to see him crouched
down with his bucket and spade and mound of ants or a pile of sand. Things like that could hold his attention for ages. It was perfectly normal that he’d go quiet.

Ben wasn’t where Mum expected.
Where is the little bugger?
She could see where he’d been so she didn’t panic.
He can’t have got far.

Mum got her bearings and scanned the horizon. Everywhere she looked was mostly fields. She could see for miles in most directions and either it was so wide open that she would have been able to spot Ben in an instant or it was too overgrown for him to have dared to venture. That only left the lane. She walked to the top of the driveway, checking the hedges along the way. At the end she looked both ways, with no sign of him.

Well, obviously he went round the house while I came through it.

That was the only plausible explanation.

She trudged back up the driveway and walked the opposite way around the dilapidated building. Dad, Michaelis and Danny were exactly where she’d left them.

‘Has Ben been back in?’ Mum asked.

‘No.’

That was when she felt her stomach clench for the first time. This was the only place he could have been. If Ben wasn’t with Eddie and Danny …

She forced out the words she didn’t want to have to say. ‘He’s not here.’

‘What do you mean he’s not here?’

‘He’s not outside.’

‘Have you checked the driveway?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you looked in the fields?’

‘Yes, yes!’ Mum was getting annoyed now. More out of worry than anger. ‘I’ve looked inside and out. If he’s not with you, then I don’t know where he is.’

Her voice was shaking and Dad could tell from her face she was serious. He leapt up and sent Danny one way, asked Michaelis to help him check the outbuildings, and told Mum to look again at the road in case he’d made it that far.

They all set off calling Ben’s name and shouting and hollering for him to come back. Their best bet was on the goat sheds and chicken coops. Ben loved animals so much it made sense he might have wandered off to feed them.

In between the sound of them all calling out, there was the occasional putt-putt of a distant scooter or slow-moving truck crawling up the main road. There were no other human sounds. Just the wind and the animals puncturing the silence.

Meanwhile, Mum put her rising sense of terror to one side and tried to visualise Ben reaching the lane. Uphill soon became inaccessible for a toddler, so that took seconds to check. In any case, she decided, if Ben had gone anywhere it would only have been in an attempt to catch Stephen. With the dusty, barren road stretching emptily out before her, Mum started jogging, scanning the ditches either side, even though she knew he wouldn’t be in them. Ben was too timid to have tackled their intimidating wild weeds – certainly not without making a noisy fuss.

As she reached the sharp bend in the lane, Mum eased her speed. She’d already covered more ground than she imagined Ben could have travelled in such a short space of time. The second she turned the corner she was confident her grandson would be in sight.

He wasn’t.

Mum stared again at the sheer unbroken nothingness of the unmade lane. There wasn’t an animal, a vehicle or a person to be seen. And definitely no sign of a little boy. Ben was only twenty-one months. It was inconceivable he could have made it that far, let alone gone any further. And if he had, he would have answered her shouts.

She trudged back round to the house and waited for the others to return. They all shook their heads. How could a toddler just disappear? There was only one other explanation.

Stephen must have taken him.

I can hear my dad’s voice now: ‘The stupid little idiot. Fancy not telling us he was taking Ben for a ride.’

Ben didn’t even have a helmet. What was Stephen thinking?

They kept on running through other ideas but this was the only one that made sense. No one had heard any other vehicles. None of the other landowners had arrived to feed their animals that afternoon. There had been no comings or goings at the house opposite, where the lane met the driveway. Stephen had to have taken him.

‘He’s probably taken him to visit Kerry,’ Dad said. ‘Palm Beach is on the way to the garage.’

Reckless of Stephen though it was, they were all desperate to believe something and that was the most convincing conclusion. They could relax now. Michaelis and Dad had some clearing up and preparation to do for when the building materials arrived, so they’d be another hour. Mum said she wouldn’t wait.

‘I’ll take the dog and the pushchair home. Stephen and Ben will probably be back by now.’

There was no sign of anyone at the caravan but Mum did spot the jerry can full of fuel for the generator. Obviously Stephen
had been back, but Mum assumed he and Ben had gone to the hotel for a swim. She began to prepare dinner. It was almost five o’clock. Ben had last been seen at half past two. Unless he ate at my snack bar, the little fella would be hungry by now.