Eight One Five - Phan

Enigma Variations

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~

Dan walked to school with Phil the next day, but he was jumpy and anxious, his eyes darting round every corner for fear of bumping into a member of Diego’s crew, or worse, one of the men who’d been in the car the night before. His paranoia didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, concerned. “You look like a frightened rabbit. I’m scared to speak too loudly in case you wee yourself.”

Dan wasn’t quite sure why, but Phil’s use of the word ‘wee’ warmed his heart. It was just so out of place for a teenage boy. Then again, Phil wasn’t exactly a normal teenager by any account.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dan said bashfully. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night so I’m in a weird semi-conscious state, I keep half falling asleep then jerking awake.”

“I can tell,” Phil said sympathetically. “No offence, but you look a wreck.”

“Cheers.” Dan smiled weakly.

“Were you out partying? Or just couldn’t sleep?”

“Nightmares.” Dan said, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. He’d returned from the celebrations at four in the morning, and what little sleep he had managed to seize had been plagued with unexplained visions of his childhood and vague, frustrating memories that refused to quite come into focus.

“That’s rough,” Phil said, placing a hand slightly awkwardly on Dan’s shoulder. “I always get up and do something when that happens. If you just try to go to sleep again, it’ll still be on your mind. If you can take your head completely away from it for a while then it’s like resetting, and you can usually sleep. Read a book. Play a game of chess. Something that requires a lot of concentration.”

“Thanks,” Dan smiled.  “I’ll try that next time.”

There was one image in particular that Dan was struggling to expel from his mind. A memory that had been brought to him in vivid Technicolor during the restless night.

He was fourteen, and home alone. Someone was knocking at the door. Four men in suits, two with dark glasses, all carrying briefcases. One had been his Uncle, Simon. He was very tall, well past six foot, with a short crop of black hair. Most likely where Dan got his height from.

Uncle Simon had crouched down awkwardly in the porch and taken his glasses off to stare sadly into Dan’s eyes.

“Your dad’s gone missing, Dan,” he’d said softly. “He was away in Geneva with work, as I’m sure he told you, but something went wrong. The car they were in was found crashed on the side of the road, but they couldn’t find your father or any of his colleagues.”

Dan’s eyes had bulged and it had taken him a few moments to find words. “Is he dead?” He whispered.

“No, there were no bodies. And no sign of what they crashed into. The car was all crumpled, but it was an empty field.”

“Have they been abducted then?”

“Maybe,” Simon said hopelessly. “But we can’t think why. Or who would have done it. You need to come stay with me and Aunt Kate, I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave school for now. You’re too young to live on your own and we’re your legal guardians.”

“But, your work,” Dan said, confused. “You travel all the time. You’re barely ever in England. You can’t look after me.”

“I know,” Simon sighed. “We’ll figure something out, if it comes to that. But your Dad’s going to be home in no time, I promise.”