Ewan: Uncharted Waters

By Murray Campbell

It was Sunday evening, but the clock said two a.m., Monday morning. He was awake in an instant. Someone was trying to kick his door in. Adrenalin started to flow. Grabbing his squash racquet, he strode to the door, turned the lock as quietly as he could, then snatched the door bolt open quickly. The sight that met him was terrible. Tom stood in front of him, soaking wet, covered in mud, with red eyes and a look of terror. Ewan pulled him in, checked that the corridor was empty, closed the door and slid the bolt across.
Dripping puddles on the floor, Tom looked as if ghosts had chased him. He was shaking all over, and his stammer prevented any recognisable words. Then this normally bluff Yorkshireman collapsed into Ewan’s arms. The hug was wet and cold. Tom was sobbing. Something was seriously wrong.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ScottBurn Press
• Release date: May 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781838384043

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Saturday morning, the first of January, started normally for the day after typical Scottish New Year celebrations. Ewan’s mum and dad leave to drive over to see a bed-bound cousin that lived on the other side of the bay, so Ewan pops next door to see his mate, Fred. They settle in the kitchen, which is littered with plates of half-eaten sandwiches and dubious dollops of haggis.

Right, you two, I need to get cracking. Go and play in the front room and take Daniel Dog with you. I don’t want him tempted by all this food. And leave the piano alone; I can’t stand the awful noise you make trying to play ‘Chopsticks’. Ewan knew that Fred’s mother had been a renowned concert pianist at the Inverness Philharmonic; she often said so. The front room boasted a grand piano that jostled with a three-piece suite for room. The highlight of the year for both families was yesterday, Hogmanay, when the sitting room had echoed to the strains of Scottish melodies and the raised voices of distant cousins who probably only came for the free food and booze. Ewan spent the evening rescuing Fred from unthoughtful relatives who tried to talk down to him when Ewan knew he was a damn sight more intelligent than any of them; hiding in Fred’s bedroom, they played video games, at which Fred always excelled. Ewan was a bad loser; he didn’t appreciate Fred’s mathematical brain; well not until many years later when Fred’s autism was fully explained to him, a word never mentioned in conversation. Ewan had often overheard the parents murmur to outsiders that their relationship didn’t need any labels, and neither Ewan nor Fred recognised their difference; they just grew up together, Ewan as a friend, and Fred as an extraordinary friend, who was always the brightest brain in the school.

It was one day short of Ewan’s tenth birthday. Having been banished from the kitchen, they were in Fred’s front room with their homework lying on the floor. It was a routine they followed to anchor Fred’s autism. They had been chums for as long as Ewan could remember. There was a difference between them. Fred was always neat and tidy; Ewan was scruffy at the edges. Both had doting parents; both were only-childs. They lived next door to one another on the same street, and the families enjoyed an open-door existence. Their adjacent bungalows on Nigg View were built of pink granite and had panoramic bay windows with a magnificent and magnetic view from their cliff-top setting of Nigg Bay on the Cromarty Firth in Scotland.

Fred had a Labrador puppy called Daniel, and it always produced a calming effect on him when the dog’s cold wet nose found its target. The three of them went for long walks or bike rides, and the dog instinctively knew Fred’s moods. Ewan probably talked to Daniel more than he did Fred, but Fred would benefit from the conversation and occasionally butt in. Nothing moved on Nigg Bay that could escape their notice, and Fred was addicted to his telescope. Sometimes his running commentary was like a chant, but Ewan had become used to it, as he had to many of Fred’s habits. His mother, Mrs Oliphant, knew the burden of keeping Fred safe and was forever saying how grateful she was to Ewan.

Both of them were lying on the floor in the front room with Ewan trying to finish his homework. Fred, I’m stuck on the equation. I get X to be two different numbers.

Well, they can be if you’ve used different values, but the relationship stays the same.

So, what is the point of working it out? Why do we bother?

Because that’s how we do algebra. Here, look at mine. As Fred passed the jotter over, Ewan heard the noise of a car on the gravel drive, and, in a flash, Daniel was up at the bay window wagging his tail. They both jostled with one another to be second to see what had made the noise. A police car was drawing up to the house, and they exchanged glances.

Fred, have you been up to no good? There are two of them, and one is a woman.

Not me. I’m always on time with my homework. Ewan smiled. There was a pure innocence about Fred that touched Ewan deeply.

Let’s see what’s up. As they reached the corridor, they heard whispering, with Fred’s mum repeating, No, no, no, in a scared voice. Ewan walked towards her. She looked white as a sheet.

What’s the matter? Fred’s a little anxious. He says he’s done nothing wrong.

Ewan, these officers have something to tell you. Please go into the kitchen with them; I’ll keep Fred in the front room.

As the officers in their black uniforms led Ewan into the kitchen, he was trying desperately to think what he had done wrong, so he could get his excuses in order. The woman police officer spoke first.

Ewan, we have some sad news for you. There’s been an accident. Your mum and dad were in their car when a lorry hit them. We don’t know any more than that, but they didn’t survive the accident. Now, we know this will be difficult for you to take in or understand. Your Aunt Bessie is on her way to take you home, and she will explain what happened in more detail. We’re very, very sorry to bring you this news. If you feel like crying, go ahead. Mrs Oliphant will look after you for now. Fred will be told, so you don’t have to tell him.

The male officer put his hand on Ewan’s shoulder. My heart goes out to you. I have a son your age, and I can’t think how he would react. The pain of your loss will ease over time, I promise. Just keep your happy memories at the front of your thoughts. Be brave.

As the police left, Mrs Oliphant entered the kitchen with Fred, who gave Ewan a hug, something he never did. Ewan was thinking how much he needed Fred to be with him now when Mrs Oliphant interrupted his thoughts. Ewan, would you like your usual cup of tea and scone?

I think so. What about my birthday party tomorrow? Dad said it took him ages to find ten candles. What happens now?

Well, we’ll talk that through with your Aunt Bessie. She is on her way and can tell you more when she gets here. Go and play your video game with Fred in the front room. I’ll get the tea.

As Ewan entered the front room, Fred rushed over and hugged him again, leaving Ewan perplexed. Fred and Ewan were always physically close, but on a different level. Fred was a stumbler in many things. Ewan had to catch him or let him fall if he wasn’t in danger. It was as if Fred felt he was always invincible, and Ewan knew he wasn’t. The scraped knees, bloody shirts, and torn trainers always attested to some wayward moment that Ewan couldn’t predict. It was a strange relationship, but it worked, and seemed to give Ewan responsibility that he liked.

Let’s play that car-racing game. I need something to occupy my mind.

They took up their play consoles. Fred stopped and turned to face Ewan. Look, you’ve always got me to play with.

I know I have, Fred, but I’m a bit numb at the moment, and I have butterflies in my tummy. Let’s just play the game. I don’t want to talk.

Aunt Bessie popped her head round the sitting-room door and said a quiet hello. Ewan dropped his play-station and walked slowly over. They hugged. Ewan, how are you?

I don’t know. Is it true? Were Mum and Dad in an accident?

Sadly, yes, and it wasn’t their fault. I’ve come to look after you. We will both have to be brave. I’ve spoken to Uncle Frank who’s in Inverness, so he’ll be here in a couple of hours. I’m going to sleep in your house for the next few days, so nothing much will change. You’ll sleep in your normal bed, and I’ll make sure you have plenty to eat. You’ve always said you like my ‘tattie scones’ so I’ll make plenty. We’ll try and keep to your normal routine, and you will be with Fred as usual. I know this is going to be an abrupt change for you, and I know you will be ten tomorrow. I’ll bake a special cake for you, if you help me.

I always help you with the icing. Dad has some candles for the cake. They’re in the kitchen drawer next to the knives.

Okay. Remember, your uncle and I don’t have any children of our own, so you’ll make a perfect substitute, she said blinking back tears. We’ll be surrogate parents. It will be a challenge for us oldies, so we’ll need your help. Mrs Oliphant won’t change anything. Just tell us if you get upset. What do you say?

Sounds okay to me, but what’s a ‘surrogate’?

It means we’ll be stand-ins. Is that okay?

Yup. Shall we go next door and start the cake?

Yes, and you can bring Fred and Daniel with you. She was Ewan’s favourite aunt. It would be a start, at least.

And make sure that dog doesn’t lick the spoon.

CHAPTER 2

All rise, boomed the voice of the court usher. The jury filed into their seats self-consciously, staring at the floor. The room was all glass and light oak, with no dark shadows, no hiding places. A huge crest clung to the wall above the judge’s seat. This was Aberdeen’s High Criminal Court at Mercatgate. To Ewan, everything looked so clinical. Everyone’s face was glum, and black cloaks, topped by white wigs, appeared like menacing birds. The spectacle was new and a little scary to him, but they had said attendance at the proceedings would give him closure, whatever that meant. He thought all the doors seemed to manage to close on their own.

He was dressed in his Sunday best with his dark grey suit, brilliant white shirt, and burgundy school tie, which Aunt Bessie had to knot after many tries by Ewan. His seat had a plastic covering that made his backside stick to it, and if he moved, it made an embarrassing squeaky sound. He coughed each time he moved to disguise any possible farting noises. He wanted to be anonymous and any staring in his direction would turn him bright red. He was sitting alongside a lady lawyer whom he liked; her name was Mary. The table was huge and littered with stacks of books.

I’ll try and explain what’s going on. We are here in what is called the well of the court. Those people that shuffled in are the jury. The man in the big chair under the crest is the judge, and he wears that bright red coat to signify his authority, Mary whispered behind her cupped hand.

But why does he wear such a long wig? Won’t it stop him hearing what’s being said?

Don’t worry; he is a wily old codger, who doesn’t miss a trick, and he has eyes in the back of his head. Nothing gets past him. We have to sit here while he goes through the procedure we talked about. Remember, you have nothing to worry about, and you’re fairly well hidden behind our stack of folders and evidence boxes. If you want, I can get you a cushion so you can see better.

No, it’s okay. I can see enough. Ewan regretted turning down the offer after another fart-like sound escaped from his chair.

Ewan tried to keep up with the continuous ebb and flow of conversation but couldn’t help his mind wandering. Occasionally, the judge looked in his direction, as if knowing that Ewan wasn’t paying too much attention. Sometimes the look seemed to be asking him for a reply, and he was tempted to give his two-penny worth, but he had been told to only speak if he was ever asked a direct question. They briefed him that the judge would ask him to give his thoughts, but they never said when that would happen. He had a speech made up and hoped his mind wouldn’t go blank on him at the critical moment.

The proceedings for the first two days were very much stop-start. Quite a few times the jury trooped out, which Mary said was to allow the lawyers to discuss a point of law. Ewan counted fifteen people in what Mary described as the juror’s box. They mainly looked at whoever was talking, but every now and then, when his parents were mentioned, he was the target of their gaze, and he attempted to shrink into his seat. When there were descriptions of the accident, Ewan didn’t look at the diagrams that popped up on a giant screen. At times, the voices were just a babble of noise. He found himself trying to remember what his mum and dad looked like; it was a strange feeling as the images formed and disappeared. He thought of Fred, whose daily timetable would have been interrupted, leaving him lost, and Ewan felt a pang of guilt that he wasn’t there for him. Fred relished habit and the security it gave him. They, unknowingly, provided a crutch for each other, with Fred’s mother sewing their routines together, and a helping hand from Daniel’s big tongue.

On the third day, Mary stopped Ewan before entering the courtroom.

Ewan, today is very important. What will happen is that the judge will sum up everything relevant that has been said. You know you’ve already prepared your statement and that you want to read it out. I think that’s a good idea as long as you still feel comfortable. You address yourself to the judge. He’ll ask you for it directly.

I’m fine. Just tell me when to expect it.

The hubbub was just dying down as the court usher rose up once again, like a perennial jack-in-the-box. All rise. The judge took his seat, and there was some bowing to one another at the front. Ewan didn’t join in, but Mary did. The court usher, a very tall man who Ewan thought looked like the undertaker from the funeral proceedings, turned and faced the jury box. Foreman of the jury, have you reached a verdict and is it the verdict of you all? A portly gentleman stood up. Yes, we have, he tried to intone, but his voice was squeaky and lost some authority. Ewan imagined it was Minnie Mouse replying to Mickey. If both the foreman and judge possessed big black ears, Ewan thought it would have played better. Fred and he were avid fans of the cartoons.

Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?

Guilty, and that is the verdict of us all.

There was complete silence in the room. The prisoner in the dock put his head in his hands and his shoulders were heaving. The judge turned to look directly at Ewan. I believe we have a witness impact statement. Mary stood up, and the plastic squeaking sound caught Ewan by surprise. He struggled to suppress a giggle, thinking maybe she should have had a cushion.

M’lord, the sole family survivor, the son, has a prepared statement, a copy of which we have lodged.

Please tell him to go ahead and speak in his own time at his own pace.

Mary prompted Ewan to stand up and gave him the white card on which he had written his thoughts.

Young man, just take your time. I am here to listen to you.

Ewan began. I have been angry since the accident. I had a lot of dreams, but they have gone. I try not to dream any more. Dad was going to take me to the Bay to see the new rigs. It was going to be my birthday present. That will never happen. That makes me angry. My mum made the best scones ever, and I helped her. That will never happen again. When I’ve nothing else to do, I try and blot out all my memories ‘cos they make me cry, but it’s bloody difficult. I now swear a lot, and I know it’s bad, but I’m still angry. All my dreams have been killed. That’s it.

Thank you for that, young man. It was a very brave thing to do. Eventually, you will learn better words to express yourself, but swear-words will do for now. You can sit down again.

Ewan took his seat with angry tears in his eyes and a very red face. Cathartic it might have been, but he felt untold pain inside. The judge called the court to order. Some of the jurors were crying.

Prisoner in the dock, you have been found guilty of the offence of death by dangerous driving in that you crashed into a vehicle that was lawfully on the highway, whilst you were texting on your phone, and records show that you had been doing so for over an hour. By this act, you killed a mother and father, destroyed a family unit, and left a ten-year-old boy an orphan. You have previous convictions for illegal use of your phone when driving. You failed to learn your lesson. As a warning to others and specifically to you, you will go to prison for ten years, with your licence suspended for a similar period. Remember, you have given a boy a life sentence without his parents. Take him down.

Ewan was ushered out, guarded by Mary and his uncle and aunt, to begin his own sentence.

CHAPTER 3

He sat at a familiar kitchen table while a couple of his aunts and uncles discussed his future, as if he wasn’t there. He drummed on the table with his knuckles in time to the incessant ticking of the pendulum clock.

Ewan, must you? It was the ever-proper Aunt Tilda.

Well, I’m sitting here while you argue about where I shall go and what I should do. How about asking me? I’ve overheard you say that you can’t work out why I’m so angry and withdrawn. It’s ‘cos I’m being ignored. Mum used to say that the road to heaven is paved with good intentions, and most of them get lost to memory before the first step is taken. You mention time and again that it will be for my own good, but I have decided that I want to have a say.

Now, now, Ewan. Uncle Frank and Aunt Bessie want you to have a home where you can mend. We have all lost something precious, and although we don’t show it, we hurt as well. Yes, you’re right. We need to ask what you want to do.

Well, I’ve studied hard and been reading books by the barrowload. It’s kept my mind off other things. And escaping with Fred to his dad’s boatyard has kept us both out of trouble. With the boats up on stilts for cleaning, Fred and I have been studying the barnacles that have to be cleaned off; we’re now barnacle experts.

We’re glad you enjoy going to the boatyard. Fred’s dad is proud of how you help out.

"We help where we can with the cleaning. Fred said we should go in for boat-spotting just as people go in for trainspotting, and he’s become clued up on