The Phone Call : (Chapter 39)

The morning tea and the message

As I sat outside with a cup of tea, all the dogs know that I can’t feed them their breakfast until mummy has had at least 2 cups of tea; I was doing the staring into space thing again.

Then my phone started ringing; it was Kerry. “Mum, the lady that I took the chocolates to has read my message, a simple message of thanks for helping my mum and I hope she is ok etc. and she hasn’t replied, Mum they have him,” she sobbed. “Darling, I know this is all a mental mind game; they are all bastards, I agree, and today I will go with all the dogs and just keep walking up and down her track,” I replied.

Suspicion and silence

Isn’t it strange how we think that everyone should react the same way that we do in a situation. So, she never accepted my friend request and never replied to Kerry. I have always told my daughter that there isn’t even 10% of people in the world that have compassion, morals or basic common sense. Yet because our minds were basically turning into detectives, we couldn’t control our thoughts, so even though Kerry knew that George wasn’t in her house, her behaviour had led to even more suspicions, and we were back to square one, just because of a no reply to a message.

Kerry then went on to tell me how Uncle Andrew is so very tired, and he is back in Bristol dealing with the lunatic that had married my father. Apparently, there was dog shit everywhere, and because he had a viewing, he had driven the 5-hour drive to clean it up.

Kerry then had to go to work, and we said our goodbyes and everything just started to feel so surreal as, for goodness sake, why is all this happening.

Claudia’s call

I then went off to pack the day’s orders, and when I got home, I saw a missed call from Claudia.

So, I called her, and she immediately answered. She began to nearly cry, and then she quietly said, “Christine, you have a very hard decision to make.” The shire pain in her voice was so worrying, and this is what she said had happened.

“Christine, a man called me and explained how his daughter’s dog had died and that a man had approached him with a dog that looked exactly like her dog that had died, so he bought the dog from this person, and he now has realized that this dog is definitely George, he is willing to give George to you, not for the reward, but if you transfer him 50 euros, he will give him back.”

“Oh Claudia, this is why I love you, send me the number, and I will google it. This is a scam, I promise a scam,” I said. She didn’t need to send me the number; she called me back.

“Christine, how did you know? Oh my god, I just googled his number, and he has done this before to many people,” she said. “Claudia, I have learnt a lot throughout all of this, and basically, I am becoming nearly as clever as our Julie,” I replied.

Friday, shopping, and a new post

I then met with Claudia to walk the dogs, and we did have a right good laugh about it, yet I still think to this day that she can’t understand how real the man sounded.

So, it was now Friday, and yes, I went shopping. I then messaged Gordon, “You fancy ham, egg, and chips tomorrow?” “Yeah,” he replied.

I wasn’t ready for company tonight as I was still in kind of a mental state; where do I go to think? Why hasn’t the lady replied to Kerry? Who has my baby?

George is still missing

It was now time to write another Facebook post, and this is what I wrote:

“GEORGE IS STILL MISSING”
Villa Franco Coín (Málaga)

As the days pass, it doesn’t get any easier; the worry actually is becoming worse. I worry for George so much that it actually hurts.

The last time I had George in my arms was Sunday the 18th of February; his fur was so soft, his fur was so thick, so clean, and so shiny. George is 10 years old and is starting to get cataracts, so I feed him golden paste with his dinner. The person that has George will not know about his eyes or his bad heart. It breaks my heart that the final however many days George has left of his life are going to be without me.

Determined to find him

So, I won’t let this happen. I will find him, George is waiting for me, and I will continue until I find George. Someone knows where George is. I will continue with my posters, I will continue with my door knocking. I will continue with my pallet posters making them bigger and better.

Next week Radio, newspapers and enormous billboards.

“GEORGE, WE WILL FIND YOU, DARLING.”

The photos and the realisation

Post posted, and a glass of wine poured, I spent the evening yet again going through all the photos of the dead body. I was just willing myself to spot something that could prove that it was him, yet nothing was 100%.

“Mum?” “Yes, darling,” I replied. “The man’s name is William that keeps calling George Mr George,” she said. “Thanks, darling,” I replied.

I started to have the most awful thoughts, going back to the dog pooh scenario; what if the NCBH had let him go and he was so disorientated that he couldn’t make his way home, and that really is his body. Our Julie had said the body looks like it passed only one week ago. This, for me, was messing with my mind as we saw the body five weeks after he went missing. For me, I know it sounds odd, maybe a tad evil, yet for me, if I knew it was George and he had died a few hours after he went missing, I could actually cope.

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