Missing in Jamaica

By Les Nicholls

Carl an Cathy Parker are on holiday in Jamaica, they love the Island and visit regularly, but when Cathy disappears, Carl fears the worst. Frustrated by the lack of interest from the Police, he decides to investigate for himself. But as each lead hits a dead end, he fears the worst.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9781447812739

Book preview

Chapter 1

Carl Parker wasn't someone who would usually need an alarm to wake him up; his internal body clock seemed to ensure that he rarely if ever overslept. He remembered that as a teenager, lying in his bed until midday wasn't unusual at all, but now in his late thirties he found himself waking up automatically. However, today he had set his phone to wake him at 5 am so that he couldn't possibly miss his flight.

It was still dark outside and his wife Cathy was still asleep, so he tried to look at his phone without disturbing her. She was a light sleeper and would usually wake up as soon as he moved, but today she was still sleeping soundly. The time was 4:53 am, so Carl turned off the impending alarm and got out of bed as stealthily as he could.

He looked back and Cathy was still breathing deeply, so he pulled on his dressing gown, walked out of the bedroom, and down the stairs to the kitchen. Theirs was an old house, a cottage over 300 years old, but Carl knew the stairs that creaked and avoided them as he moved down slowly. In the kitchen, he filled the kettle and made his wife's favourite morning drink, good old English breakfast Tea and he knew exactly how she liked it. He never liked hot drinks in the morning, so as he waited for the kettle to boil he poured himself some Orange juice and contemplated the gorgeous fruit juices he would be enjoying tomorrow when they get to their holiday destination of Jamaica.

Always paranoid about forgetting something, he had always written lists; he looked at the single sheet of paper on the work surface and ticked off the first item, turning down the central heating system, and then he did just that. They had decided not to turn it off completely; this was England in December after all and they had made the mistake in the past of turning off the heating, only to find that on returning home, the house was as cold as an Igloo and the bed sheets were like an ice-covered lake.

The Kettle clicked off and he poured his wife's Tea, added a little Milk, and stirred until it was just the right colour. He walked back into the bedroom, put the cup of Tea on the bedside table, leaned over, and kissed his wife's forehead. Good morning beautiful, he said, time to get up I'm afraid, well actually I'm not afraid, we are off to Jamaica! he said, unable to hold back the biggest smile.

Cathy looked up and raised half a smile, thanks for the drink she said, I will get up in a minute.

He looked at her beautiful face and thought, as he had done many times before, that he never ceased to marvel at how beautiful she could look in the morning, so still smiling he said I've packed my case and put it by the front door, ill just shower and see you downstairs. Then he leaned over and kissed her again.

The drive to the Airport didn't take too long; it usually took a maximum of half an hour at this time of the morning, but Carl always allowed more time than he needed, he had an almost pathological fear of being late, and he would rather be a couple of hours early than cut it too fine. After parking up they made their way through the freezing cold darkness and towards the lights of the Terminal.

Checking in at the airport was always such a painful experience, Carl often likened it to a Cattle market, but at least today, the queue was not so bad. As they handed over their passports they watched nervously as each suitcase was being weighed, heaven forbid, it might be a kilo overweight. There have to be rules, he thought, but sometimes it gets a bit silly. He looked at the scales then at the rather overweight woman in the adjacent queue and thought, So if I was one kilo over I'd have to remove something or pay extra, but she is a good five stones heavier than my wife, but that's ok is it?

What are you smiling at? Cathy said with a puzzled look.

I'll tell you later, he said and tried to stifle his grin.

The bored-looking woman behind the desk gave a false smile as she handed back the passports with their boarding passes and said have a good holiday! Probably something she said routinely many hundreds of times a day.

Both Carl and Cathy quite liked the airport experience; the time spent window shopping, buying magazines and sweets for the plane and as Cathy always reminded him, some water to drink on the plane; after all, it is a good 9 hours flight to Jamaica. The few hours of waiting for boarding went very quickly and before they knew it they sat in their seats ready to fly to their favourite holiday destination.

Carl never got tired of the feeling that landing in Jamaica gave him, the way that the heat just hits you as you walk out of the aircraft door and onto the metal stairway. That first breath of hot Caribbean air and the glare of the burning hot sun, it was just magical. He turned and smiled at Cathy knowing that she was thinking the same.

This was Montego Bay airport, renamed Sangster International airport a few years back. It was located on the northwest coast of the island, Carl and Cathy had seen it grow from a fairly basic airport to a very efficient modernised one, although they missed the more basic version that they had first experienced during their first holidays to Jamaica, they missed the simplicity, but most especially the food that they used to sell here, food that they used to buy for the plane journey home, Curry Goat and Rice or Jerk Chicken or maybe just a few Jamaican Lamb Patties, food that was always much better than the food that the airline provided.

Cathy was born in Montego Bay but had moved to England when she was just four years old during the exodus of commonwealth citizens that England had called to the Motherland after World War two, with the promise of a better, more financially rewarding life. She still remembered her parents telling her that they had been told that the streets of London were paved with Gold, but that they also believed that they had a sense of duty to the Motherland when the call went out for workers to fill the jobs that the English themselves did not want to do. But when her Father moved from his 16 acres of land and left his small but successful lumber business to work in England, he was shocked at the less-than-welcome reception that he received.

No Dogs, Irish or Blacks was a commonplace sign on certain room rentals or bed and breakfast establishments and when black immigrants answered advertisements for either accommodation or certain jobs they were often met with I am sorry but someone else has just rented the room! or We are sorry but that job vacancy has now been filled.

On arriving in London, Cathy's Father Henry had to sleep in an old underground air raid shelter until a recently widowed lady called Martha Douglas rented out a room to half a dozen immigrant men. It was one small room and all six men had to sleep in shifts on three small single beds, so they took it in turns, as each one returned from work he took the bed of another who would then himself go off to his work. It was always Henry's plan to find work and save enough money to be able to send for his wife and children, but finding decent work proved much more difficult than he had anticipated. After finding a few menial cleaning jobs in London, he decided to move southwest to Bristol on the recommendation of his cousin who had found work with the Bus Company there.

There had recently been a move by the Transport Union to ban coloured workers from securing jobs on the Buses, a view that was shared by the management. So despite there being a shortage of applicants for jobs, immigrants were barred from applying for these jobs. This led to a group of West Indian men forming an action group to challenge this. They involved the local press, local politicians, and students from the University, so when Guy Bailey was refused an interview because he was black, the press reported this, and a boycott was organised, eventually causing the Bus Company to relent and employ Raghbir Singh as their first non-white Bus conductor.

So when Henry arrived in Bristol, he not only found better accommodation but a better job. His accommodation was a single room in the St Pauls district of the City which had a small but close-knit immigrant community at that time. This community grew as many white residents started to move out when coloured neighbours moved into their street. One of the advantages of living in St Pauls was that it was within walking distance of the town centre and more importantly a short walk to the Bus station.

The West Indian community developed quite quickly and Henry used to attend the various Blues and House parties in the area, where he could meet fellow immigrants, listen to the then-popular Jamaican Ska music and get some good authentic Jamaican food, and quite a few drinks of over-proof white Rum. Hardworking and true to his plan, Henry was eventually able to send for his wife and children. Cathy only had had few vague memories of life in Jamaica before she moved to England, but could not forget how grey and dirty England looked when she first arrived at the dock with her Mother and younger sister.

Carl looked out of the Bus window at the turquoise and azure Caribbean Sea as they travelled away from the airport along the north road towards Ocho Rios; it was one of the many aspects of Jamaica that he never tired of seeing. He looked at Cathy next to him and peered over at the hotel information documents she was reading. They had stayed in the same hotel before, but things do change and Cathy was always meticulous about reading everything before arriving. One thing that they always insisted on was a sea view, as Cathy used to say, What is the point of being in the Caribbean if you can't look out over the beautiful sea or watch the stunning sunsets?

They had travelled this road many times and knew that it would take around one and a half hours to reach the hotel, but just then there was a scream from the front of the Bus and as they looked up they saw a body thud against the windscreen. Oh, Lord! Cathy said with genuine shock on her face, they looked out through the side window and saw a young boy rolling along the grass verge next to the Bus. Lots of passengers were now standing to see what had happened, but the travel rep instructed them all to sit down. Carl and Cathy could see the Bus driver exiting the vehicle and thought that he must be going to check if this poor boy he had just hit was alright. To their shock, the driver started inspecting the front of the Bus and paid no attention to the plight of the young lad he had hit off of his bicycle.

Carl wanted to get out to see if he could help in any way, but Cathy held his arm, wait a while, she said, Look some locals are checking on him, the Police might be called I guess? We could have a long wait.

Carl knew that he was now thinking selfishly about how late they might get to the hotel, and they were already tired from having been up so early, having a long flight, and now this. Then he checked his thoughts and felt ashamed and reminded himself that he should be more concerned about this poor boy. Flashing blue lights appeared in the distance, the Police had got here very quickly, he thought to himself.

The Police talked to the Bus driver, and the travel rep, and then they went to look at the boy who amazingly seemed unharmed. The Policeman then waved the Bus driver on. It seemed that what was in the tourist's best interests was more important than this local boy.

As the Bus pulled away, Carl felt a sense of relief, but then concern for how well the poor boy had been examined, he could have internal injuries, but none of the locals or the Police had seemed overly concerned about him.

As they pulled up to the entrance of the hotel, Carl leaned over to Cathy and whispered, Do what we always do, I will wait to get our suitcases, you go on ahead to reception so we won't have to queue so long to be checked in.

Of course, Cathy replied, rolling her eyes heavenward, you say that every time. Carl smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

The hotel room was stunning, they had a corner room and two views of the Beach and Sea; they were especially pleased that the balcony faced in the direction that the sunsets occurred and they knew that this location had some stunning sunsets. As always they surveyed the room; the nice bathroom, plenty of wardrobe space, and a super-king-sized bed, but most importantly, Carl found the TV remote control, lay on the bed, and looked through the channels to see what TV stations they had. As always Cathy looked at him, rolled her eyes, and walked out to the balcony to breathe in the warm fresh Caribbean breeze.

Would you like a drink? Carl said as he looked at the free optics of Brandy, Rum, and Gin, you have to love all-Inclusive, he thought to himself.

No, not yet, Cathy replied, I think we should go down and eat something first, I'm starving, I didn't eat anything on the plane."

Carl looked at his wife standing on the balcony, her dark hair blowing slightly in the Caribbean breeze, and thought to himself how lucky he was to have her. He smiled to himself as he marvelled at how beautiful she still looked after ten years of marriage. He had seen so many of his friends marry decent-looking women who almost as soon as they said I do! hacked off their hair, put on weight, and no longer seemed to bother about their appearance, but not Cathy, she looked as good today as the day they had first met.

His mind took him back to the day they had first met. He had never before been on a blind date, but an event had been arranged by a friend and everyone was expected to come with a partner. Carl was not seeing anyone at the time; he had recently split from his long-term girlfriend and he was not interested in starting a new relationship. His friend Joel had insisted that they both needed to find someone as he had his eye on a girl called Rachel and she had a friend called Cathy, so if they both asked them together then they might be more likely to accept. At least that was how Joel had reasoned on things. Reluctantly Carl went along with it, but when he asked Cathy, she outright turned him down and this made him even more determined to succeed, she had thrown down the gauntlet and he was determined to change her mind.

He had never been turned down before, this wasn't due to his being particularly good-looking, but he had developed an arrogance that must have come across as self-confidence, and his experience had proven to him that most girls seemed to like that. He had developed a tactic as a young man frequenting the discos in 1970s England that it was a good move to approach the most attractive girl in a group to ask her to dance, but not immediately, it was best to wait a while until the girl got restless when no one else had asked her to dance. The reason, Carl had surmised, was that most guys were afraid to ask the most attractive girls to dance, believing they would be turned down, but in his experience, it was the most attractive girls that never got asked to dance.

What Carl didn't know was that Cathy was recovering from a previous relationship and that she was not in any mood to start seeing anyone again for a while. He also didn't know that Cathy's brother was trying to talk her into taking up Carl's offer, not because he liked Carl that much, but because he believed that if she went out it might do her some good. So when Carl called to ask her again, she accepted, reasoning that this would be a one-off, but she had planned to ensure that he would not ask her out again.

The date for the event was just two weeks from the time that Cathy accepted. Carl and Joel arrived on time to pick the girls up, and they were surprisingly ready on time. It was dark when Carl opened the door of Joel's car to show his date just how courteous he was, but apart from a quick thank you! she didn't seem very interested or impressed with his chivalry. Carl just shrugged it off, but he couldn't help noticing her lovely smell as he closed the car door. The journey took about twenty minutes and both girls just sat in the back talking to each other and barely paying any attention to the questions Joel and Carl asked them.

On arriving at the country club, the venue for their friend's party, Carl and Joel helped each girl out of the car and offered their arms to escort the girls into the room where you could hear the music already playing loudly and you could see the lights flashing through the gaps in the window blinds. This was the 1970s and Disco music had taken off in a big way. As they walked towards the doorway, funk band Earth Wind and Fire's latest record, appropriately called Saturday night! blasted out into the clear dark night.

On finding a suitable seat far enough from the dance floor so that they would be able to hear each other talk, the boys offered to buy their dates a drink; Double Brandy for me, said Clare with a knowing grin towards Rachel; she had confided to Rachel that she planned to order the most expensive drinks that she could think of, to deter this annoying boy from ever asking her out again, or at least that was the plan.

As the boys walked towards the bar, Joel turned to Carl and said What do you think, doesn't Rachel look gorgeous? Carl just nodded and smiled, while inwardly thinking to himself that Rachel didn't even come close to how beautiful Cathy looked.

His date had made an effort to look her best even though she wasn't keen on going, at least she could let this boy see what he would be missing out on, she had thought to herself.

What do you think of yours? Joel said to Carl, who was counting out how much money he had in his wallet, Um, well, she looks great, but I doubt that I've brought enough money, Double Brandy, I mean, what's that about?

After ordering her fourth expensive drink, Carl decided in his mind that he wouldn't be asking Cathy out for another date in a hurry. This was not because he didn't like her; in fact, he had come to realise that she was unlike so many attractive women who, in his experience, often think far too much