John Quarmby

The Boy Marcus... and Other Lives John Quarmby

Marcus was a truly handsome young man. At 24 he was tall and of medium build. He had a clean shaven, slightly oval face whose clear features were framed by fine black hair which crept down under the collar of his T shirt covering and defining the strong, slender body beneath. His grey eyes shone with an intelligent intensity beneath fine black eyebrows and to look him in the eye was to leave one feeling that he had seen into ones very sole. He was articulate and charismatic and always seemed about to smile, but never did. I first met him on 2003. He had been in hospital and on his discharge and being unemployed the Social Services had accommodated him in a Bed and Breakfast. Now, some months later and having secured a job as a machinist he was going to have to vacate the B & B., and had, allegedly, heard that I had an empty apartment over my office. He wanted to rent it. In the event I decided not. I did not want to let it at that time, nor could he afford the rent. I had also noticed his arms.