History repeating

There is something so hypnotic about stirring a huge pot of beef chilli. I always love to add a secret ingredient a work colleague shared with me years ago. 'My boyfriend Alex adds a chunky cube of dark chocolate for flavour and it's a game changer.' Not sure its a game changer but there is a richness it certainly adds, and I love serving with fresh coriander, rice and a huge dollop of sour cream. Mwah!

I find it so satisfying after a day of work sat at a desk at home to cook for my family. I enjoy everything about the process from visiting the local butchers who source all their meat from their family farm through to cooking and presenting to my husband and 7-year-old son who always gives it 'two thumps up.'

I'm feeling a bit anxious this evening as I always do when I’m about to leave my family for a few days to travel to the big smoke. That London as we refer to it in our house. It’s just the thought of getting up early coupled with leaving my husband with the school run, looking after our son and the puppy and remembering a whole host of after school clubs. I know they’ll be fine but our son, George always develops a sore throat or tummy right before I’m about to go and I feel weighed down with guilt. My Irish Catholic aunt who has a habit of saying the most inappropriate things always reassure me that its good for them to manage without me just in case something were to happen to me like being hit by a bus. Thanks for that Aunty Mary. I knew there was a reason I stopped going to church with you.

I continue to stir, scrolling through my phone like a crack addict needing a fix. I need to work on my phone time. I swear it's so unhealthy and such a time waster. When I look away for the screen, I hear a ‘ping’.

I’m surprised to see a messenger message from a name I haven’t heard in a very long time. Tom or ‘Mozza’ as we called him at College. I haven't spoken to Moz in years. It did get a bit awkward between us when he invited me out for what I thought was a harmless, only to then realize he was trying to get me drunk and bed me. Very awkward.

‘Hey Rebs (gosh that’s a nickname I haven’t heard in a long time.’)

Look I’m sorry to get in touch after such a long time and I hope all is well with you. Listen, I’m sorry to disturb you but a few of us (Ed, Lalya and the gang) are quite concerned as we haven’t heard from Luke in years.' Goodness that’s a name I haven’t thought about in eons.

I’m sorry to ask but we have been trying to contact him for years. It's unlike him to be so quiet and wondered if you had heard anything? We're a bit worried…you know after Chris.' This message is pulling all the punches. Darling Chris. I still can't believe he left us.

My Hubbie floats into the kitchen, opening cupboards looking for a ginger nut. ‘Are you alright darling? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Yes, fine thanks pooch, just thinking through my day tomorrow.’

I should just say, shouldn’t I?

'Darling, I just had a very strange message …you know from one of the boys saying they couldn’t get in touch with one of the chaps and did I know anything. A half-truth. I didn’t want Phil to think I was getting embroiled in something to do with an ex-boyfriend.

'How odd. Has anyone heard anything? What about 'sausage'? We did have some very strange nicknames.

'I've just WhatsApp'd him. I doubt he's heard anything.'

'Well sometimes you lose touch with friends at certain times. I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure all is fine.'

‘Yes, I'm sure.’

Why couldn't I drop it. Was it my responsibility to think about his wellbeing? He was married after all and had a family in Bristol Surely, they would be looking after him.

Phil helped himself to a large top up of Pinot and went next door to watch the rugby.

Continuing to stir the pot, I googled ‘Luke Fagan Duckworth’ and couldn’t see anything but an article popped up about his dad. I don’t think I’d ever seen a photo of his dad but goodness what a resemblance to both of his sons but especially Luke. Really swarthy good looks. I initially scrolled down the article which detailed his accomplishments in the Marine corps and at a high level in rugby to the bit where it mentioned his mum…

Ian Fagan Duckworth met Sandy in Exeter, and they went on to have two sons…Luke and Sean. They then moved up to Stirling and Ian was found on a train track on the Ayr/Perth border. He was 38 and cause of death was confirmed as depression.

This was the part I knew all about. When Luke and I had met at college when we were both 21, he had always mentioned that his father had died, and his mum had remarried. It was a year later in a little flat in Sienna, he woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me. I couldn’t stop crying. I’d never know anyone who’d experienced such sadness and the thought that Luke and his brother had only been 5 and 3. Shocking. It gave me a new admiration for Luke’s mum even though I knew she didn’t like me. I knew she thought I wasn’t good enough for her child who was on course to graduate with a first-class honours degree from Christ Church, Oxford. I was very much an unwanted distraction, and I think she worried because I knew what had happened. The subject had never been mentioned to anyone outside the immediate circle of trust, and I knew she was concerned that I was on the outside but knew.

I messaged Tom again and said’ I’ll get in touch’ as although it had been over 20 years since we had been close, I wouldn’t want him to think he couldn’t speak to anyone if he was going through something.

I kept my email very brief:

‘Hey Luke, its Rebs. How are you? I’ve had a message out of the blue from Moz. He said he’s been trying to contact you but can’t get through. Hope all ok. R’

I was doubtful I would hear anything.

Who else would know? I’ll contact Chris. Chris was a mutual friend who now lived in Oz. He had a very impressive career as a flying paediatrician saving lots of babies. He was now married with 2 beautiful children and looking like he was enjoying a very full life in Melbourne. He would always post lots of pictures of he and his girls jumping in their camper van and driving off to have lots of wonderful adventures all over Australia.

‘Hey Chris, how are you? How's the fam- a- lam? Quick question…have you heard from Luke? I’ve had a message from Moz asking if he’s, ok?’

‘’Lovely to hear from you Rebs. I’ve been trying to get in touch for 2 years. He never replies. I believe he recently got divorced but dosen’t trust computers or phones.’

He’s probably just going through something I thought. Later that evening, I messaged Tom and relayed the news.

‘Oh man he’s really going through it. I found an article online about his dad which was very sad.’ said Tom.

I assumed it was the same article about Luke’s biological father but when Tom then sent me a link to a paper about a missing person it was in fact about his stepdad.

A hunt is underway for 74-year-old Keith Woods who has gone missing in Westbury on Trym.

But then also found a later post on Twitter from Luke’s brother saying ‘We will celebrate our Dad’s life on April 5^th 2024. Thank you to everyone for your kind message and those who helped the search.’

Oh no, poor Keith and poor Luke and Sean losing two Dads. I googled Keith Woods and was shocked at how many articles then came up with ‘Missing person appeal’ to ‘Body found in the River Avon.’

I messaged Tom back saying ‘I’m so shocked about Keith. He was so energetic. I remember all those climbing trips he used to take.

‘I know. It sounds as if Luke is really going through it.’

On the train to London I messaged Luke again.

'I'm so sorry to hear about Keith. I'll always remember the dancing and the lovely walks in Scotland. Sending love to your mum and brothers.'

That was a few months ago now. I never heard back but have faith that with the support of his family, he'll get through the dark days.

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