I became interested in UFOs a few years ago after seeing strange flying objects in the sky above my home town of Wakefield, West Yorkshire. I discussed my sightings with a police officer friend, and he warned me that I would not be taken seriously if I reported it to the authorities. I was astonished when he also confided in me that he had been abducted by aliens, but was too afraid to talk openly of his experience.
I decided to do some research on the issue. I talked with more abductees, attended UFO conferences, read many books on the subject and trawled the Internet for more information. I was surprised how much I found. I had no idea where my investigations would lead, but I was totally unprepared for what I uncovered.
Sifting the genuine stories from the fake accounts was challenging. Unfortunately, this subject is often trivialised and ridiculed, and I know that some will believe ALL the accounts are phony, no matter how much compelling testimony and physical evidence can be found.
I was drawn to a series of accounts that followed the same theme. Balls of light were seen in the sky, followed by abduction to a strange place, where physical examinations were made on the abductees by alien beings. Some abductees mention a breeding programme of some kind between aliens and human beings. How can so many similar stories, from individuals around the world, be false?
The idea of a book began to take shape. I wanted to expose the facts that I had discovered, but my police officer friend had warned me that nobody would listen. So I wrote a fictional account, using details from my research. You can read the serialised excerpts from the story here.
Fact or fiction?
Urban myth or government cover-up?
This 10th excerpt is from a science fiction novel about alien abduction. If you would like to read the novel from the beginning, please see the previous excerpts in, ‘They Take our Children.’
The complete eBook series is available on Amazon stores worldwide priced at $0.99 US dollars or equivalent, or £0.99p in UK.
Please go to an Amazon online store to purchase this novel if you can’t wait to read the rest.
Chapter Ten: Gavin, Helen
Gavin was fascinated, but he’d been with his father-in-law all morning at the old man’s house and time was getting on. They were no nearer finding Courtney and he was getting more concerned about Helen. The more he read about the first episode of her illness, the more he worried about her present state of health. Gavin was impatient to be with his wife, to find his daughter and saw George’s plan to sift further through the contents of the old suitcase, as a waste of time.
‘This is all well and good, George,’ he shuffled some papers together. ‘But I can’t see where we’re going with it.’
‘There’s a lot to take in, son,’ George agreed. ‘Maybe we should call it a day and see how Mary’s doing with our Helen.’
George gathered the scattered contents of the suitcase, carefully placing them in the correct files. He retrieved the discs from the DVD player and placed them on top of the pile before closing the lid.
‘Here, I’ll take it back upstairs for you,’ Gavin offered, reaching for the handle.
‘No, lad, leave it be,’ George told him. ‘We’ll come back later when you’re ready.’
Gavin couldn’t imagine that he would ever be ready to read through the whole suitcase full of files that the old man had collected, but smiled, to humour him. Gavin had more important things on his mind.
The two men set out in the pouring rain to Gavin and Helen’s home. Only a few people were about. Some asked if Courtney was home yet. It was a close-knit neighbourhood and everyone seemed concerned about the missing teenager. Gavin shook his head at them, not wanting to enter into conversation, being impatient to get home. He wanted to see if Janine and Terry had left, wanted to believe they would find Courtney waiting for them at their house. He wanted to see Helen, to look into her eyes and not see the vacant stare he’d seen there a few hours before. He wanted everything to be all right, he wanted everything to be back to normal, but somehow he knew that he was asking too much.
Gavin realised that what he had glimpsed in George’s suitcase was the tip of the iceberg. Clearly, there was a much deeper mystery surrounding Helen’s past, but he was equally clear in his own mind that it would have nothing to do with flying saucers or little green men. He was not the kind of person to be interested in anything other than plain facts and substantial hard evidence. He told himself that all George had, was a mountain of paper documentation about coincidences, strange sightings and possible mass hysteria brought about by the media coverage. Nothing else that he read in the documents had suggested a link with Helen and the other girls who became ill. He’d known about mass hysteria, he could understand the causes and the effects. He could not understand paranormal investigators, found it difficult to deal with what George described and tried to put it out of his mind. Gavin preferred to think in terms that he could understand. Labelling Helen’s illness as hysteria suited his rational mind and gave him something normal to cling to.
The house was quiet as they let themselves in. An appetising aroma of bacon grilling, reminded them how hungry they were. Mary was in the kitchen and she reached into the fridge to get more bacon when she saw them come in.
‘Where’s Helen?’ Gavin asked, moving to the stairs.
‘Leave her to sleep, the doctor gave her a sedative, she’ll be out for a couple more hours yet.’ Mary fussed with the grill, arranging the slices of bacon on the wire rack.
‘Did he say she’d be all right?’ George asked, getting the kettle and filling it from the tap.
‘He said it was to be expected. Stress and all that, with our Courtney running off, you know.’ She looked at Gavin’s worried expression. ‘She’ll be fine after a few hours’ sleep, you’ll see.’ She tried to reassure him.
‘I’ve just shown him those medical reports, so that’s why he’s a bit concerned.’ George told her, sheepishly.
‘That blasted suitcase full of junk!’ Mary turned on him. ‘No wonder he looks so scared!’ She laid a hand on Gavin’s arm. ‘Now you take no notice of his little fixation, it’s all in the past.’ She moved back to the cooker. ‘No good will come of raking over cold ashes. You mark my word! What’s done is done and can’t be undone and there’s no need bringing it all up again. What’s happened with our Courtney is nothing to do with all that nonsense.’ She banged about, setting the table with plates and bread and cutlery as she ranted and the two men stood back watching her display of temper.
‘Don’t be too sure, Mary,’ George said quietly when she’d calmed. ‘It might have everything to do with what happened back then, just as the disappearance of our Sam and Chris did, but you wouldn’t listen that time either, would you?’ He sat at the table and watched his wife bang down the plate full of sliced bread.
‘Don’t you dare start all that again,’ Mary whispered harshly. ‘Our Janine and Terry are in the living room, I don’t want you bringing up all that nonsense again.’
‘It’s not nonsense!’ George spoke through clenched teeth, but lowered his tone as he continued. ‘Our Janine knows the truth, she just won’t face it.’ George poured out two mugs of tea from the pot Mary placed on the table. ‘I can’t blame her for sticking her head in the sand, though.’
Gavin watched the two sparring partners, wondering at their words. He understood only half what they were talking about, but the small hairs at the back of his neck began to prickle. He knew with a kind of sixth sense that he was at the beginning of a roller-coaster ride. One that had started with the opening of the suitcase and he knew he would have to ride it out if he wanted to get to the bottom of Helen’s secret. ‘How could the disappearance of Sam and Chris have anything to do with this?’ Gavin asked, careful to keep his voice low.
‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Mary hissed. ‘Don’t you start, Gavin, it’s bad enough having one nutcase in the family and I don’t mean our Helen!’ She gave a knowing look at her husband.
‘You didn’t complain when I brought in that Mr Robertshaw and you have to admit he did the trick.’ George hissed back at her.
‘Trick! Well that was the right word. He was nothing more than a conjurer, a stage hypnotist.’ Mary stuck out her chin defying George to argue with her.
‘That was the way he earned a living I grant you,’ George nodded agreement, ‘but he didn’t ask for a penny from us did he?’ He challenged her.
‘Wouldn’t have got it if he had! All that mumbo jumbo,’ she shook her head, her nose in the air. ‘Couldn’t understand a word! Then there was all that secrecy! We would have had no idea what went on in those sessions if he hadn’t passed away and left you those tapes.’ She sniffed. ‘Not that there was anything on them to understand, they were full of the same mumbo jumbo. Honestly, that child’s imagination.’
‘It was not imagination, woman, it was real enough to her.’ George insisted.
‘It was him putting ideas into her head, that’s what it was.’
‘Hey, you two,’ Gavin had heard enough of their sniping. ‘Whatever he said or did, Helen did get well. Does it matter who is right or wrong?’ he asked them.
‘I’m just saying it’s the wrong time to bring all that palaver up again.’ Mary shrugged.
‘And I’m saying it is time to look at it again, for our Courtney’s sake.’ George was not giving in.
‘Well maybe we should wait until she’s back safe and sound before we get into this any deeper.’ Gavin suggested, not really wanting to hear their opinions, but curious now to learn more from the contents of the suitcase, especially as George seemed to think Courtney was involved.
Terry took Janine home sometime in the afternoon, promising to call if they heard anything from Courtney. Mary and George stayed with Gavin, keeping him company in his lonely vigil. Helen slept on, obviously finding escape in her drugged slumber. They took turns through the evening to check on her and to make sure she slept comfortably. Every time the telephone rang all three jumped to answer it. Every time, it was a concerned friend asking for news.
Helen’s parents tried to persuade Gavin to get some sleep, but he could only doze in the chair. George and Mary huddled on the sofa, holding hands. For all their harsh words, they remained close, comforting each other through another long night of stress. Together they waited for the telephone to ring, or for the knock on the door. All three dozed intermittently and talked quietly in their wakeful moments. They retired to bed in the early hours, deciding that if Helen was going to sleep until morning, they should try to get some rest too.
Helen woke as the others went quietly to their beds. She heard George and Mary moving around in the spare room and Gavin whispered a quiet, ‘goodnight,’ to them as he closed the door to Courtney’s room. She lay still, grateful for the peace and quiet of the large empty bed. Her sleep had been dreamless and she felt refreshed, though not inclined to get up. Her mind was too full and she needed time to sort through her emotions. She let her thoughts drift, from Courtney to Gavin, to her parents, to Janine and back to Courtney.
She would never forgive herself. Courtney should not have heard what she called her. It was not the child’s fault. Helen knew she should have been more careful all those years ago. Then Courtney would never have been born. Just as Sam and Chris should never have been born.
Helen lie in the quiet, peaceful darkness and allowed herself to remember. She could only do this because of one man. Mr Robertshaw persuaded her all those years ago, that she could think about her ordeal. Thinking about it would not make it happen again, talking about it would not make it happen again. She knew it would happen again, though. Maybe not to her or Janine, but it would happen to others. Many more girls and boys would know the fear, and feel the pain and try to block it out. Most would come through it unscathed, just as Janine thought she had done, but then in future years it would come back when they least expected it. Come back to take their precious children.
Had Courtney been taken? She shuddered under the quilt thinking of her child, the child she gave birth to, being with them. She knew Courtney didn’t really belong to her. She was not flesh of her flesh, at least not in the real sense of the words. She was Gavin’s though and that made a difference. She tried to love the daughter of her husband, she was an easy child to love, but every time she looked into her eyes she saw her own fear, her own pain and the gap between them widened.
Gavin did not understand. He could not be expected to understand. He believed there was nothing wrong with the child. He even deluded himself that she looked like her mother and couldn’t understand why Helen found that amusing. She smiled in the darkness of her bedroom. Didn’t any of them see how different she was? With Gavin’s red curls and hazel eyes, her own dark complexion, dark hair and brown eyes, how did they manage to produce a child so fair? She was almost albino white, her skin nearly transparent, with platinum blond hair. Courtney’s eyes were the palest blue, almost colourless. The midwife feared the baby was blind, she’d never seen eyes so pale in a newborn before. The family joked about fairy changeling blood in their gene banks, especially since Sam and Chris had been born with the same delicate looks. Helen stopped trying to make them see. Of course, the children looked different, they were different.
Helen forced herself to remember. She needed to know if she did still remember. She owed it to Courtney to try to explain, if her daughter ever returned home. Courtney needed to know where she came from and would need to be prepared. Sam and Chris had no idea and she shuddered as she thought about how frightened the little boys would have been. She wondered where they were now and what kind of lives they were living. She knew they lived. She also knew that Janine believed they were alive. Helen tried to speak with her sister soon after the boys went missing and again just before Courtney was born. Janine would not discus any possibility other than the police theories. They could have been murdered, or offered for sale to childless couples, or kidnapped for some devious perverted reason. Janine believed some misguided people trafficking in the lucrative business of overseas adoption had taken them. It came close to the truth, but Janine refused point blank to listen to Helen’s version.
When Helen first became pregnant at thirty-three-years old, she went into denial, not even going to see the doctor until her fifth month. She was devastated, after avoiding pregnancy for so long, she had to face the reality of what happened to her when she was fourteen-years-old and she almost couldn’t bear it. Gavin’s enthusiasm carried her through the pregnancy. He was ecstatic and couldn’t wait for the child to be born. His excitement was contagious and she even found herself hoping for a little boy with red curly hair and a cheeky grin. She knew it would never happen though, and in her more sober moods, she faced the truth. Her child, Gavin’s child, would be born at exactly nine months, would have perfect features, perfect skin, perfect white hair and the palest blue eyes full of wisdom, ages old.
Helen continued to work in the small primary school just outside Edinburgh. She loved her work. The children she taught had filled a void in her and she was more than a little apprehensive at leaving them. The void was soon to be filled by a child of her own. Like it or not, Helen had to face the fact that she was going to be responsible for the child in her womb. She would have to face the knowledge every day that the child was only on loan to her. She knew beyond a shadow of doubt that, they, would be back to reclaim what was theirs.
They moved back to Yorkshire a few weeks before the birth. Gavin had been offered a post at the University in Leeds and it seemed a good time for Helen to return to her roots and her family. Helen’s parents were overjoyed. They fussed over their daughter and helped decorate the small semidetached house the couple bought just round the corner from their home in Wakefield, insisting Helen did nothing. Even Janine and Terry helped, though it must have been difficult for them with Helen so close to having a child. It had been only a year and a half since their two boys were taken. Janine put on a sunny smile for Helen. She seemed to be genuinely looking forward to the birth.
The labour, when it came, was long and hard and as she struggled to bring the child into the world, Helen screamed, kicked out and thrashed on the labour bed. The midwife threatened to sedate her, appalled at her behaviour. Helen refused to let Gavin anywhere near and he had to be content to stand in a corner of the room. She didn’t know what her reaction would be when she saw the baby. She was frightened she would hate it on sight and hoped to hide that hate from her husband. She was unprepared for the rush of emotion as the midwife placed the pale child in her arms at the end of her struggle.
Courtney, wrapped in a green hospital sheet, still wet from the birth fluids, was very quiet. Her mouth made little suckling movements, her eyes remained tight closed. The soft down on her head was sticky and dark with blood and she was the most beautiful baby. Tears sprang to Helen’s eyes as the wealth of love overwhelmed her. Far from hating this baby, Helen adored her and felt fiercely protective of her. Even when the baby opened her eyes and gazed at Helen with those knowing pale-blue irises, Helen smiled into those eyes with tears of devotion trickling down her cheeks.
When Gavin was finally allowed to greet his daughter, the look on his face was full of wonder. He told Helen much later that he would never forget the look on her face. He told her that she had never been more beautiful than she was that day. Her face full of love as it gazed down at their child.
The first few weeks were difficult, quite apart from the sleepless nights and the unfamiliar routine of feeds and changes, Helen struggled most with her emotions. There was no denying she loved the baby, but she feared every minute of the day, that her love was wasted. She knew Courtney was only on loan to her, though Gavin had no idea, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. Gavin was the kind of man who laughed at anything supernatural, anything that could not be borne out by hard evidence, so she knew he would treat her story with scorn. She knew that he would listen politely, just as her mother and father had when Mr Robertshaw helped her explain to them. Then Gavin would have told her not to be so dramatic and would insist that there was a reasonable explanation for most things and he would set about finding one. The nightmares of her youth would remain just that to Gavin, simply bad dreams. She wished they could be so simply explained, so simply true.
Her father had been shocked, her mother tut-tutted and remained tight-lipped throughout the difficult explanations. When Mr Robertshaw left soon after, her mother launched into a tirade of verbal abuse, aimed mainly at her father for bringing such a man into the house. Needless to say, Helen knew her mother didn’t believe a word of her story and tried to rationalise it by saying the man had put words into Helen’s mouth, dramatising the nightmares she had suffered, by trying to give them some credence of being real. Her father had stayed quiet, glancing at Helen, his face an impenetrable mask. Helen could not tell whether he believed her, and felt abandoned. Mr Robertshaw had prepared her for their rejection of the truth, explaining that her parents would find her story hard to believe. She had thought she was ready to tell them, but she wished with all her heart she had kept quiet.
She could still see the look on their faces as she described the horrors, helped by Mr Robertshaw when she reached a difficult part. She didn’t want to see that same look on Gavin’s face. She didn’t want his pity and his scorn. She didn’t want to look into his face and see doubt, fear and rejection. She loved her husband, he was the rock in the stormy, troubled waters of her life and she knew she would not survive without his complete love and belief in her. So she kept the terrible secret of Courtney’s destiny and paid dearly for shouldering the burden alone.
Looking back she could see how the rest of the family tried to help her. Her mother said she must have been suffering baby blues. Janine suggested she go back to work, offering to look after Courtney for them. Helen grasped this lifeline. She needed to escape from the reality that smothered her. She soon found a position in a local primary school and life moved on.
Helen continued to care for her child, making sure she wanted for nothing. She fed and cleaned her, saw to her needs, but Gavin showered the child with the love and affection she needed more. Helen did love her, more each day as she grew up, but was afraid of where that love would lead her. Helen could see her own future pain, in the haunted eyes of her sister. She never wanted to feel the pain her sister felt. She didn’t want to feel the aching void left by the disappearance of her child, so she distanced herself from the love she felt. She drew a veil over the feelings that enveloped her when she looked at her uncannily beautiful child. Helen saw that Courtney found in others what she could not find in her own mother. Gavin doted on her, Janine and Terry spoilt her and both her grandparents idolised her. Helen withdrew from Courtney in the mistaken belief that she was protecting herself from further harm.
Now Courtney was gone and Helen felt the pain more keenly because it had been tempered by guilt. The guilt of knowing she should have shown her feelings more. She should have seen Courtney for what she was, a beautiful, talented girl and not what she believed her to be. Now Courtney knew exactly what Helen thought. Hot tears of remorse ran down Helen’s cheeks as she remembered the stricken look on her daughter’s face. She promised herself that if, or when, Courtney returned, she would tell her the whole truth. First she would tell her how sorry she was, how bitterly she regretted her treatment of Courtney, but mostly she would tell her how much she loved her. Then she would try to explain. The child should know. It was time she was told. Helen tried to remember. She wanted to put the whole story into words that her child could understand.
Clearing her mind as Mr Robertshaw had taught her, Helen focused on the inside of her own eyelids, concentrating on the shifting patterns there, letting her mind empty of the thoughts concerning Courtney, Gavin, her parents and her sister. Gradually, she swept them all to the far reaches of her consciousness. When she was satisfied that her mind was receptive, she took herself back to the Christmas when the nightmare began. Breathing steadily, controlling every breath, she allowed herself to remember.
TO BE CONTINUED…………
This 10th excerpt is from a science fiction novel about alien abduction. If you would like to read the novel from the beginning, please see the previous excerpts in, ‘They Take our Children.’
The complete eBook series is available on Amazon stores worldwide. Please go to an Amazon online store to purchase this novel if you can’t wait to read the rest.