Free The Shining Skull by Kate Ellis

Mark Jones as though his
     story was genuine. But perhaps he’d known from the moment he’d clapped eyes on him, from the moment he’d seen the resemblance
     between him and Adrian Fallbrook, that he was indeed Marcus Fallbrook, the child returned to life.
    ‘I remember the school and living with the travellers but the rest is just all vague. Sorry.’
    ‘You might remember one day.’
    ‘Now I’m down here things are coming back to me all the time. And I want to remember. I want to know what happened to me.’
     Mark Jones sounded as though he meant it.
    ‘How long were you with the travellers in Ireland?’
    ‘I don’t know. It seemed like a long time but . . . I think they were more New Age travellers than the traditional type. One
     of them – Carrie she was called – took me to Manchester with her. I remember going on the train. She left me there with Aunty
     Lynne and I lived there till I left school and got a job in a supermarket.Then I worked at the airport – baggage handling – but I got sick of that so now I work in a garden centre.’
    ‘What about Aunty Lynne? Perhaps she’ll be able to throw some light on . . . ’
    ‘She died last year.’
    Wesley should have known the lead was too good to be true. ‘I don’t suppose you know where we can find Carrie?’
    He shook his head. ‘Never saw her again. Never saw any of them again.’
    ‘Did you ever ask about your birth certificate? You must have needed it to apply for a passport . . . ’
    He shook his head. ‘Never needed one . . . never been abroad.’
    ‘Did Aunty Lynne have any other relatives who might help?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘When she died did you find any papers or . . . ’
    ‘I went back to the house and one of the neighbours helped me clear out her things. I remember looking for Carrie’s address
     but I never found it.’
    ‘Were you close to your Aunty Lynne?’
    Jones’s expression gave nothing away. ‘She wasn’t the sort of woman you got close to. She provided me with the basics but
     she wasn’t the motherly type. I don’t think she had anything to do with the kidnapping – or Carrie. I don’t know why, but
     I think they might have found me wandering or something, the travellers that is.’
    ‘Where do you live now?’
    ‘When Aunty Lynne died the house was empty so . . . ’ He shrugged his shoulders by way of explanation. ‘Look, I don’t want
     all this to mess my life up.’ He put his head in his hands.
    Wesley poured another cup of tea for both of them. Mark – or Marcus – looked as though he needed it. Wesley watched him sip,
     nursing the cup as though trying to warm his hands.
    Mark Jones took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have come here . . . I should have left well alone. But I had
     to know.’ He gave Wesley a shy smile. ‘I’m thinking of getting married. You wouldn’t think all this would matter at my age.
     But you have to know where you come from, don’t you?’
    ‘If you can prove you’re Marcus Fallbrook, you stand to inherit quite a bit of money. Marcus’s father was a very wealthy businessman.’
    Mark Jones shook his head vigorously. ‘I didn’t know about that. And I couldn’t give a toss about the money. Finding my real
     family’s more important . . . finding out who I really am.’
    Wesley watched him, wondering whether he was protesting too much. But then he thought he might just feel the same if he was
     in his shoes.
    ‘I told Adrian that I’ll take a DNA test, you know. His wife, Carol, is arranging it all.’
    Wesley nodded before asking the passing waitress for the bill. It looked as though the man might be telling the truth after
     all.
    It was the largest memorial in the graveyard.
    Neil Watson read the inscription beneath the strange symbol that had so intrigued him. Sacred to the memory of . . . There
     were so many Benthams listed. Two Marys. A Sarah. A George. A Charles. Four Johns. Three Edwards. Two Katherines. And one
     Juanita, probably