I’m currently staying at a hotel near the German border in France. I’ve been here for the last four days and I’m confident that no one has followed me. That being said, I’m still not sure whether or not this online journal is being read by the “Nightmare People” and I’ve decided that it’s best, for the time being at least, that I don’t reveal my exact location.
Up until Arthur Man’s post last night, which I’ll get to in a minute, my only lead has been the diary that I found in Harrison’s father’s summer house. Over the last few days, I’ve been reading through it.
Most of the pages are either torn out, faded or smudged and quite a lot of the readable parts are about mundane, everyday occurrences. It seems that in the winter of ‘86, Harrison’s father was living in the village of Hindon (which is just four miles from our hometown), working on a book entitled “An Enlisted Man”. The only part worth transcribing is, as was the case with the first diary I found, the last few days before the missing pages.
Saturday 1st February 1986
This morning Samantha finally dragged me away from my study and convinced me to take a walk to Tisbury to visit Richard and Sofia. She said that it was ridiculous that we still hadn’t been to see them since their son was born and I suppose that she was right. Being around Richard is awkward these days. I can’t look at him now without seeing that horrific look on his face and the blood on his shirt. When Sofia and Samantha took Richard Jr to get his jab, we just sat in silence for an hour. The two of us used to be thick as thieves and now we can barely look each other in the eye.
On our way back home, Samantha and I passed Wendy. She was taking little Mark to get his jab too. We stopped and talked to her and she told us that John had gone to France on business. The temptation to tell her the truth was unbearable.
In the evening, I sat down to write and I found that I couldn’t. How could I sit and tell the story that John’s father had told me and blissful ignore the actions of his son?
I must convince John to stop this madness.
Sunday 2nd February 1986
I phoned Wendy this morning and asked if she had a contact number for John. She told me that he had arrived back home just after we had passed her yesterday.
To say that Richard was surprised to see me two days in a row is an understatement. I tried to convince him to come with me to confront John but he wouldn’t. I suppose, given that he now has a family to take care of, his wanting to stay away from the whole horrible mess is understandable.
John was in his back garden when I arrived. He looked thin and tired. I was just about to give him a piece of my mind and threaten to expose him when Wendy came out into the garden. She looked so happy that I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth.
John and I went to the local in the afternoon. He divulged his plan to me in full and I agreed, after much persuasion, never to tell Wendy. I also agreed to let John look over the first half of my first-draft.
When I got home, Samantha asked me where I’d been. I lied and told her that I had been to the library to do some research. I see no need to trouble her with this – she already has far too much to worry about. In fact, I’m starting to think that Richard has the right attitude. I’m going to be a father soon, John’s business is his own. I need to start worrying about my own problems. If I don’t get this book published, how will I be able to support little Harrison? That’s right. Samantha has finally decided on a name for our son. Harrison. Oh, well. I suppose I’ll get used to it.
And as for whether Richard and I will ever be able to go back to the way we were before, it’s hard to know. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.
Underneath this entry, Harrison’s father had drawn a symbol:
I know that I’ve seen this symbol before, but I can’t remember where. Perhaps I saw it in the first diary that I found? I don’t know what it stands for and I have no idea what Harrison’s father is talking about in the entries. What secret was my father keeping from my mother? Is it something to do with Annie, the woman mentioned in the previous diary? Was my father having an affair? If so, why would that be something that Richard would want to have nothing to do with? Richard was friends with my mother and met my father and Harrison's father through her – so I was told. Wouldn’t he want her to know the truth? Or perhaps my father’s secret is something much worse? Something to do with the incident the previous summer?
The diary, I decided, was a dead end. No useful information to help me track down Emily and Harrison. However, what I found INSIDE the diary was promising. Hidden in between some of the pages, I found two photographs:
The first photo has “Malaya 1950 – two days before the discovery” written on the back of it. The two guys at the front bear a striking resemblance to Harrison and myself.
The second photo holds even more clues. On the back, in Harrison’s father’s handwriting, it reads, “Dr Arthur Manford MD. Joyce's Bar, Cleggan, Ireland. HE KNOWS THE TRUTH”.
Could it be that the man in this photo, Dr Arthur Manford, is ArthurMan? It’s too close to be a coincidence, right?
And then I saw ArthurMan’s message last night. And look at the third address on the list!
Is it you, Doctor Manford? Are you try to lead me to the truth?
Tonight, I intend to head toward the first address on the list. I don’t know what I’ll find there but it’s the only lead that I have. Harrison and Emily claimed to have been heading for Germany but that could have been a red herring. Perhaps they’re at one of the addresses in the good doctor’s last message?
There’s only one way to find out.
