Stolen

by

thedragonaunt

Prologue

The Virgin Pendolino train pulled in to Manchester Piccadilly station and drew to a smooth halt. The doors opened and the passengers began to alight and make their way to the main concourse, amongst them a tall young man with a military bearing, carrying his travel bag over one shoulder. The journey from London Euston, just short of two hours and ten minutes in duration on this high-speed tilting train, had been comfortable and pleasant in First Class.

The young man had enjoyed the extra leg and elbow space and his complimentary coffees and lunch; the in-train wi-fi had enabled him to watch TV on his iPad and he had also done some research for his latest college assignment. All this had helped to take his mind off the purpose of his journey. But now he had arrived in the county of his birth, his thoughts returned once again to his mission.

Having checked the Departures board, he crossed the main concourse to the Transpennine Express platforms to catch his connection to Stalybridge, his home town. The train was ready to leave so he stepped aboard and sat in the nearest available seat, dropping his travel bag onto the seat next to him. The carriage was nearly empty, this being mid-afternoon.

In an hour's time, it would be packed with school children, on their way home, and an hour after that, commuters would be strap-hanging after a hard day at the office, but right now, he shared the car with just two ladies and a small dog, for the short, twelve minute journey.

He was coming home. He hadn't been home in a very long time – over a year, in fact. The last time, he was on leave from the Army. His dad had greeted him with a handshake and then dragged him down to the pub, to show him off to his friends. He'd spent the week enjoying his mum's cooking, catching up with old school mates and walking in the hills with the family dog. The whole family had accompanied him to the station and waved him off, like some sort of hero.

This visit would be very different. He was no longer in the Army but that was not a problem. With nine years' service under his belt and multiple tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan, he had done his bit. He was a student, now, at the University of Westminster, the first person in his family to go to university. His parents were very proud of that.

On his last visit home, he's been single – unattached – and his mum had asked him, casually, if there was any chance of her becoming a grandmother in the near future. He had just smiled and his dad had punched his shoulder, affectionately, saying,

'Still playing the field, eh, lad?'

So the news he was bringing to them, today, would come as quite a shock. He wasn't too concerned about how his mum would take it. Like most mums, she rolled with the punches, stayed calm and carried on. But his dad was a different kettle of fish, entirely. His dad would take it hard. But Arthur had lived the lie long enough. It was time to come clean about who he really was.

ooOoo