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Hardback 978-1-911-600-12-1
Trade paperback 978-1-911-600-13-8
Ebook 978-1-911-600-14-5
All rights reserved. No part of the publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted or circulated in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission in writing of the publisher.
A CIP catalogue of this book is available from the British Library.
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Copyright Denise Fergus, 2018
Denise Fergus has asserted her moral right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
A portion of the proceeds from the sale of this book will be donated to the James Bulger Memorial Trust.
Every reasonable effort has been made to trace copyright holders of material reproduced in this book, but if any have been inadvertently overlooked the publishers would be glad to hear from them.
Blink Publishing is an imprint of the Bonnier Publishing Group www.bonnierpublishing.co.uk
In memory of James and for all my beautiful children: Kirsty, James, Michael, Thomas and Leon x x x
Contents
Prologue
W hen I gave birth to my baby boy, I was full of hopes and dreams for him. But the one thing I didnt ever imagine was burying my sons tiny body after his murder. No parent wants to outlive their child or say goodbye its impossible to imagine but my final hours and minutes with my beautiful James will be etched on my mind until my dying day.
Getting my purse out to buy two pork chops for tea was the last thing I did before my world imploded forever. I went into the butchers holding my little boys hand, making one final stop before heading home, and I left without James hand in mine.
That was how our last moments together went: no long goodbye, no last cuddles and snuggles with the baby who meant more to me than life itself, just me letting go of James hand for a split second, rummaging around in my purse for the right change, and my two-year-old son being led away to his death by the ten-year-old boys who murdered him.
I remember clearly going to The Strand shopping centre in Bootle and parking up. We had a list of what needed doing and we were very efficient. Nicola my brother Pauls fiance had my other brother Johns little girl, Vanessa, with her. Were a close family, and Nicola was looking after Vanessa for the day. As all mums know, you dash around like a mad thing trying to get everything finished while the kids are in a good mood and playing ball. Once they hit that wall of boredom, you have no chance of getting anything done. We got all we needed and decided to buy something nice for tea for the blokes after their hard day of DIY.
We went into A.R. Tyms, the butchers, happy this was the last port of call. James was restless and running around a bit. He had been so good but was reaching the end of his patience. It was time to get him home so he could play with his toys and have his tea. Then it would be bath, stories, pyjamas and bed the same routine we had every night. There was nothing I loved more than tucking him up at bedtime and knowing he was safe and cosy. Because we only had one bedroom, James had a little bed at the side of ours, which was fine by me as I liked him close.
I went into the butchers and straight to the counter, looking at what there was on offer. I said hello before pointing out the chops I wanted, all the time telling James to stand still. The butchers shop was small so there wasnt much space for James to get up to lots of mischief, but he was playing and dancing around a bit it was definitely home time. I remember clearly that I was by the counter, he was running around in circles and Nicola was in the corner by the fridge with Vanessa.
James was laughing and I beckoned him over to stand by me. I held on to his hand as the man wrapped up the meat and chatted to me. He was very friendly and said hello to James before telling me what I owed him. And this is the last thing I remember: I let go of James hand and looked at him saying, Just stand right there by me, dont move, okay?
He was there right by my left thigh. I smiled at him and pulled my bag from my shoulder, took out my purse and went to open it to get my money. As I snapped open the clasp, I glanced down and James wasnt there. Immediately I looked over to the fridge cabinet and expected him to be playing with Nicola and Vanessa. He wasnt there. I shouted, Where is James?
Nicola told me not to worry, that he would be playing just outside the shop and that he couldnt have gone far. I got to the doorway and stopped to look left, right and left again. The place was packed and there were so many people I couldnt see a thing which way would he have gone? My heart was thumping and even then I was full of icy dread. It is like fingers of fear grip your heart and crush it so you cant breathe. I knew right then it was bad, I just knew. It was one of those moments where the world feels like it is turning in slow motion, and you struggle to take in what has happened. I remember this voice in my head, Not James. Not my beautiful boy. This couldnt be happening to me, I didnt ever let him out of my sight.
Which way, which way would he have gone? I kept asking myself left out of the shopping centre doors or right into the crowds. In a way it was a silly question, as he didnt even know his left from his right, he wouldnt have understood what he was doing. I stood there feeling sick to the pit of my stomach and I turned left to start the frantic search.
People often ask me if I blame myself for what happened that day for taking my eyes off him for that split second. For letting go of his hand as I looked for my purse. They ask if I blame myself for not seeing what the CCTV footage later showed: Venables and Thompson beckoning James away from my side and out of the shop at 3:39pm?
The answer is: of course I do. There arent the words to describe how I still feel now, every day. I was the one who let go of his hand; I was the one there meant to protect him. But do you know what my biggest regret is? That I didnt turn right instead of left if I had taken the right turn and gone around the corner, I would have seen James being led away, just four short minutes after he had left my side, trustingly holding hands with the boys who were about to murder him.
Chapter 1
A Liverpool Girl
W hen I tell it like that it almost sounds like it happened to someone else, in fact for a long time afterwards I felt as if it had, as the shock and grief were like a heavy veil that blocked out the world. When people say that life can change in an instant, that fate can collide in the most destructive way, I am living proof it does. Once it does, there is very little that matters.
For over 25 years I have been known as Denise Bulger (later Denise Fergus), the mum of murdered James, but before he was abducted on 12th February 1993, I was Denise Matthews from Kirkby and all I wanted was my own family. I had a happy and simple childhood with loving parents who gave us the very best they could, like all good parents do I suppose. We didnt have much to go round but we didnt ever go without and all I remember are happy times. There were 13 of us altogether (12 now that my older brother, John, sadly died a few years ago). It is funny I can never remember the age order when I am reciting the names of my brothers and sisters, so I have to list them as boys versus girls: the boys are John, Joe, Ronnie, Ray, Paul and Gary; the girls are Joan, Barbara, Rita, Sheila, Eileen, Pat and me. When I think back to my childhood now, it must have been chaos but mostly I imagine all the washing! Although there werent 13 of us all living there at any one time, the ironing pile is bad enough in my house with three lads, never mind any more than that. Mum had a twin-tub and I remember starting to wash and rinse my own clothes from a really young age in order to help I dont know how my mum did it, but she never made it feel like hard work.
