Who killed my son Liam Wright?

The mother of Shropshire teenager Liam Wright has today for the first time released her personal story - 20 years after her teenage son was killed in a shed fire.

Faith Wright has been unable to talk about her 19-year-old son's death for the last 20 years but forced herself to write a personal account of what happened four years later as she feared her grief would make her forget.

Releasing her story, Black Monday, exclusively to the Shropshire Star, Mrs Wright hoped it would encourage anybody who knew her son's killer to come forward.

The story reveals how she and her late husband Eddie realised the victim of the shed fire at Madeley Ski Slope on September 10, 1990 could be their son after seeing photos of his jewellery and key ring in the Shropshire Star, writes Kirsty Smallman.

On Monday, September 10 1990 Faith Wright's world collapsed.

I shivered as I felt the first hint of Autumn in the air. The memories flooded back to that perfect September Sunday.

I'd shivered then against the coming chill of the evening, I was on my way indoors, when he'd (Liam) placed his prized green jacket around my shoulders. It pleased me.

He was always like that, good natured and generous, a pleasure to be with.

A charmer, happy-go-lucky, sports-mad, 19-year-old lad.

He had fallen in love, got a new job and life was good. He went home at 7.45pm in a taxi. I never saw him again. I wished that day had never ended.

I'd always hated Mondays. I picked up the Shropshire Star.

"Another shocking headline 'Grim Find in Arson Shed'," I remarked, as I passed the paper to my husband Eddie, on my way to the kitchen.

As Mondays go, I don't suppose today was too bad, I thought as I peeled the potatoes.

"'Oh my God!' exclaimed Eddie.

"'What's wrong?' I shouted.

"'It's the description of the rings found with this body. No, it can't be..." Eddie's shocked voice trailed off.

Hysteria

I rushed out of the kitchen and sat on the arm of Eddie's chair, looking over his shoulder at the newspaper.

"They've also found a London Hilton bottle opener on a key ring," he whispered, "How many people have one of those?"

I could feel the hysteria rising. Two words leapt up from the page, Charred Body.

"It's not...it can't be." I shook my head in disbelief. "No, the initials LW...it's just a coincidence."

I rushed to the phone, my hands were shaking so badly, I could barely press the buttons as I dialled his office.

"Faith Wright here. Can I speak to Liam please?'

"No, I'm sorry Liam hasn't been in today."

"Has he phoned in sick?"

"No, we haven't heard from him at all."

I was trembling, I felt cold and frightened.

"I'm going to phone the police, we have to know."

While waiting for the police to arrive, I paced up and down in front of the window.

There weren't any words. We just looked at each other, eyes meeting, then quickly averting, as if to avoid the truth.

My constant to-ing and fro-ing started to irritate Eddie.

"Sit down!" he told me sharply.

Absent-mindedly I picked up the discarded newspaper. It said pictures on Page Four. With trepidation, I turned the pages.

"No! Oh no...they are his rings," I wailed and threw the paper to Eddie.

"What are we going to do? I don't know what we are going to do." I hysterically repeated over and over.

I didn't cry. I couldn't. Turmoil raged within me.

A fearful feeling begun low in my stomach, it surged upward and outwards, it ran through my body.

It consumed me. There was no respite, the pain and anguish escalated to an unbearable level. And still I didn't cry.

I heard the car pull onto the drive. I ran to the door and opened it before the bell had rang.

"It's him isn't it?" I asked the grim-faced detective, before he even came into the house.

"Did Liam have any abnormalities with his teeth?" he asked.

"Yes, he had one growing through the roof of his mouth."

"That more or less confirms that it is Liam. Positive identification will be from his dental records," he replied, as he walked into the house.

The detective explained the facts concisely. The night before there had been a fire in a shed at Telford Ski Centre, arson was suspected.

Shocked

At 1.30am, during the damping-down process, a male body had been found.

I'd stopped listening, I was too shocked to comprehend the words.

"That's it," I thought, "They're just words." I closed my mind, I was so utterly unprepared.

I didn't, wouldn't believe that I would never see my precious son again.

I'd felt an urgent need to be near Liam. To sit on his bed. To touch and smell his things. At 8pm we drove to the house Liam shared with two friends, there was no-one in. We got back into the car in silence.

We arrived home feeling totally dejected. We didn't eat. We just sat quietly, both lost in our own thoughts.

The horror and devastation flooded back into me, filling me with black despair.

"Yesterday I had a beautiful son, my best friend," I sobbed, blurting out my thoughts. "Today he is a body, a charred body."

"The words "charred body" reverberated through my head, causing me the most excruciating pain.

My head was nodding in time with the rhythm of those words. It made me think of a train. The words accelerated on and on, "charred body", "charred body"...

Eddie watched me, he felt numb and just wanted to kill the hurt.

He said nothing because he didn't know what to say. My whole body was shaking as I sobbed.

Why? What was he doing there? How did he get there? the questions tumbled out. A hideous thought sprang into my mind.

He always wanted to be rich and famous. And, now that he's dead, he's headline news. I really thought I would go crazy.

"'Will I ever laugh again?'

"Of course,' Eddie doubtfully replied.

"'Do you think I'll ever recover?'

"'I don't know,' Eddie said truthfully. "I really don't know."

"What happens if I don't," I sobbed. "What then?"

Finally I stopped crying. It was 9.30pm and Eddie realised that the dog hadn't been walked since 1pm.

"Will you be all right Faith, if I walk the dog now?"

"Yes I'm okay, take him."

The moment that I was left alone, I needed to do something.

Across the room there was a holiday photograph of Liam.

He was looking straight at the camera, as if into my eyes.

I walked around the house changing all the photo's in the various frames, until they all held photos of Liam from age five upwards.

I felt so lonely. I needed someone, anyone, just as long as I wasn't left alone. "I want him back!" I cried, clutching his photo to my breast.

Seeking strength, I embraced his photo, willing him to return to me.

"It's just a terrible mistake," I thought. "I know he's coming back. I can't understand or explain how his teeth and rings came to be in that shed.'

"He's just gone away for a while. One day he'll come walking back into the house."

The calming thoughts were like a shield to protect me. I knew what I was going to do.

I would hide behind that shield. My whole body ached with the pain of my loss.

But no-one would see my sorrow. I was too proud.

I wouldn't tell anyone my private thoughts.

Mask

Nothing would break through the defences I had erected.

Comforted by this reverie, I carefully applied my make-up, as if donning a mask.

"I won't let you down Liam," I told his photo.

I remained in this shocked state but I was tortured by the unknown. Not knowing how Liam came to be in that shed or how the fire started.

I don't believe he got there by his own free will. I believe he was chased and something terrible happened to him but there is no evidence or proof.

The inquest was held on 15 January 1991. I truly believed I would learn the answers to my questions. I didn't. An open verdict was recorded.

Eventually, as I came out of shock, I began to feel very bitter.

I was on a downward spiral. That summer I cracked, I walked away from my office manager job, went home and screamed.

In March 1992 Mrs Wright launched her own business, The Wright Image, a colour and image consultancy devoted to self development.

She said Liam would have been "very proud."

She has since moved to Spain.