Parents offer $20,000 reward for information about a missing son

Student Eddie Gibson was 19 when he went missing on a trip to Cambodia in October 2004. Now, his devastated parents have returned to the country to offer a $20,000 reward for information. Here, his mother Jo, 52, tells of her heartache.

Jo, ground crew for British Airways, lives in Hove, Sussex, with her second husband, Tony Clarke, a 51-year-old businessman. She has two other sons, Elliott, 28, and Max, 18:
My happy life as Jo Gibson-Clarke, mother of three gorgeous sons, ended and another began at 7.15pm on November 1, 2004. I was standing with my former husband, Mike, waiting for our teenage son, Eddie, to return from a trip to Cambodia.

Waiting in the arrivals hall at Heathrow for Eddie to run into my arms, I could barely contain my excitement. But the minutes passed and the stream of back-packers gradually reduced to a trickle. Then the doors swung shut.

All the passengers had arrived - and Eddie wasn't there. It is almost impossible to describe the waves of shock and terror that ripped through me. Every day since then has been a living hell. I miss Eddie with a passion. His loss has ripped a hole in my heart that nothing can fill.
I hope he's alive, but as each day passes I know that's increasingly unlikely. But until his father and I know for certain what has happened to Eddie, we can't rest.

Now, when I hear mothers blithely planning their teenage children's gap years, my stomach churns. As they muse over the exciting challenges and mind-expanding experiences offered abroad, I want to scream: 'No, no, no.' Are they totally blind to the potential dangers?
When Eddie set off excitedly to the Far East before starting at Leeds University, I was every bit as naive and trusting. His friends were all doing the same thing. In my innocence, I even looked back to my own youth and recalled weeks spent Inter-Railing around Europe with two girlfriends.

But, as I've discovered, travelling around Europe is utterly different to backpacking around one of the most deprived areas of the world, where drugs are rife, foreigners are exploited for their money and life is cheap. If parents could see the truth - as I've been forced to - they'd think again.

Though Eddie came back safely from his gap year, he found it impossible to settle. Three weeks after starting university, he secretly withdrew £3,000 from his bank account and booked a flight to Bangkok. When we eventually spoke to him, he told us he was returning in three weeks. We haven't seen him since.

Today, I'd give anything to turn back the clock. Until Eddie left home, his life had been utterly charmed. In fact, I used to worry that he had almost had it too easy. He wasn't just good looking - 6ft tall with a smile that melted hearts - but charming and talented.
Sadly, Eddie's father Mike, 61, and I separated when Eddie was 11 and divorced in 2000. However, we are still extremely close. Eddie saw his dad regularly and Mike even came around every Sunday for family lunch.

I've agonised over whether Eddie was affected by the divorce, but I honestly don't believe he was. When I remarried, he was delighted to find himself with two stepbrothers - Tony's sons Jeremy, 21, and Matthew, 20.

Eddie was good at everything. Moving from his private prep school to Cardinal Newman School, Hove, and then on to Brighton and Hove sixth form college, he excelled at rugby, tennis and swimming while managing to get excellent levels.

He was always so focused. He knew what he wanted of life and went for it. were thrilled when he got a at Leeds University to read international management and Asian-Pacific studies. And when suggested a gap year, Mike and agreed happily.

Eddie was already well-travelled. We had taken family holidays every-where from South Africa to Cuba, Eddie was so sensible and resourceful that we didn't worry him. So in late 2003, he left Australia and the Far East with gang of seven friends, including stepbrother.

Tony and I joined him in Australia in January 2004, two before his 19th birthday. They were among the happiest days of my life. I took Eddie to the hairdressers - he wanted a few highlights. He was so hand-some and charming, all the stylists clustered around him. I felt immensely proud.

Later, we lunched beside Sydney Opera House and talked and talked. He was my son, but he also my friend. He held my in his enormous hands. It so sweet. When Eddie returned home May, he filled his room with souvenirs - Buddhas, candles and photos. He'd kept a diary and had taken hundreds of photos, which he loved to show us. He spent the rest of the year helping Mike at his commercial finance business.

I worried that after such an intense and exciting time, Eddie would find it hard to settle back down to his studies. But he reassured me that he'd learned the value of education and was determined to get a good degree. 'The people I've met in Cambodia are the poorest in the world, but they're also the kindest and happiest,' he told me. 'But I know that I need more in my life - and for that I need a degree.' Although money wasn't his priority, he talked of going into business.

So on September 15, 2004, I drove him to Leeds and settled him into his room. When I kissed him goodbye, I was convinced he was starting one of the best chap-ters of his life. He seemed so happy and excited about the future. How could I have guessed I'd never see him again?
I still don't know what happened in the next few weeks. No one does. Eddie wasn't naturally secretive, but once he was focused on something, he was single-minded. He didn't even tell his old schoolfriend, Josh - a room mate - that he was unhappy.

But one Sunday night, just a few days before he left, he rang me. 'I just want to hear your voice, Mum,' he said. I was touched but surprised. A few days later, he rang again and said he wasn't getting on very well with part of his course and was considering swopping. He was always so capable and sensible that I didn't worry unduly. But we now know he had already made up his mind: he was going back to Cambodia.

Preparing the way, he rang Mike and me to explain the battery was low in his mobile phone and we might not be able to reach him for a few days. Then, on October 4, he took a flight to Bangkok via Dubai, due to return on November 1. Once in Bangkok, he quickly moved to Cambodia, crossing the land border at Poipet - though, of course, we didn't know that then.
We only realised our son was missing when he failed to ring. His room mates hadn't seen him. He hadn't breathed a word. We were frantic.

Then, on October 20, I got an e-mail out of the blue from Phnom Penh. Reading it, I was horrified, but relieved. At least he was safe - or so I thought. He explained that he was terribly sorry to disappoint us, but that he'd realised after only one week at university that it wasn't for him. He felt he had to sort out his life and would be coming back home on November 1. He even gave me the flight number. I e-mailed back, reassuring him I wasn't angry, but making him promise he'd never, ever scare me like that again. Did he ever even read my e-mail? I don't know.

I heard once more from him, on October 24, when he sent another e-mail saying that he was coming home - then nothing. When he failed to arrive on the flight, we hoped against hope there'd been a mistake. We expected a knock on the door any second. Every time I heard a car draw up, I ran to the window. But it was never Eddie.

At first, the police refused to take us seriously. After all, Eddie was 18 and, supposedly, a seasoned traveller. But we knew it was totally out of character. We were so anxious that in December that year Mike flew out to Cambodia with Eddie's brother, Elliott, to try to find him. We've been out several times since.

Last June, British police even sent out a team - but no one has been able to find anything. We simply cannot rest until we know what has happened to him. Even if Eddie is dead, it will be better than living in this terrible limbo. That's why Mike and I have come back to Cambodia. We've had a private investigator on the case for two years, but he's uncovered nothing useful.
Now we're offering a $20,000 reward for information. That's a fortune in a country where the average policeman earns just $300 a year. We desperately hope it will tempt people to tell the truth. Someone must know something.

Being here is incredibly difficult. Eddie adored the country - and trusted the people implicitly. But I look around and all I see is danger. Scratch the surface and it's there. I've toured beaches, bars and backpackers' hang-outs and been horrified by the scenes. Do these kids' parents have the faintest idea what their children are up to? British teenagers are stoned out of their heads on cheap, potent drugs. Heroin, marijuana and metham-phetamines known as yabba or 'Nazi speed' are as cheap and easy to come by as cigarettes.

The British Ambassador has told us that every year tourists are found dead in their hotel rooms, killed by drugs which are more powerful than they bargained for. There are also tales about Cambodian 'taxi girls' - locals who make themselves available to the Western men for the duration of their stay - turning the tables on their clients and keeping them high on yabba while relieving them of their cash.

I am convinced that Eddie wasn't into drugs. Video footage we have seen of him just eight days before he was vanished taken by Ami - a local girl whom Eddie befriended - show him looking as clear-eyed as ever. Besides, Eddie hated being out of control and rarely even got drunk.
He was so health-conscious that when he helped me by doing the weekly shop, he'd return with loads of fruit and vegetables — not the usual biscuits and crisps most teenagers are into. Even his bed-room was neat and tidy.

My greatest fear is that someone killed him for his money. Eddie arrived with £3,000 — enough to feed a family for ten years in Cambodia. I don't know how discreet he was. Life is cheap: Cambodia's recent history of disorder and death during Pol Pot's regime has hard-ened people. The first time a kindly local explained that Cambodians would not think twice about killing my son for his money and then sim-ply burying the body, I felt sick. Now I suspect it's the truth.
Ami told me she loved Eddie — they met at a tourist bar - and was surprised when he disappeared without a word.

When her father died while Eddie was in Cambodia, knowing money was short, Eddie paid for his funeral - a gesture of typical generosity. We even have a video of him at the funeral, eight days before he disap-peared, looking fit and well.
It would be tempting to suspect Ami, but having visited her humble shack, I can see her life hasn't changed. If she stole from Eddie, where has the money gone? We have found records of Eddie booking into various hostels and I've spoken to the guide who helped him cross the border from Thailand, but no one can shed any light on why he didn't get on that plane back home.

We know that the border area between Thailand and Cambodia is particularly lawless, notorious for drugs, prostitution and gambling. Did someone murder Eddie hours before he was due to catch his flight home to safety? I just don't know.

We've had e-mails from students returning from the area, saying they think they met Eddie, and every time my hopes rise. They e-mail photos but then, as the images download, they're not Eddie - and I feel I've lost him all over again. There should be a health warning on countries like Thailand and Cambodia. If you want to go some-where and be unaccountable, it's the ideal place because there are no rules. Most visitors return safe and well, but when something goes wrong there is no safety net.

Eddie believed himself so resourceful - but he was a nice, middle-class boy from Sussex and had been wrapped in cotton wool all his life. What did he really know of the world? I try not to blame myself, but I look back at how calmly I let Eddie leave for the Far East and I feel like screaming. We haven't changed his room: it's still full of his souvenirs from Thailand and Cambodia. I treasure them for his sake. Eddie will be 22 on January 26. We won't celebrate, but we will mark the day with a small family party — as we did for his 21st. It's very hard.

We all grieve in different ways. His elder brother Elliott is convinced that Eddie has been murdered and feels we should all move on. For my part, I am in limbo. I gave him life, I loved him: I can't rest until I know what's happened. I carry his photo in a locket around my neck.
I cling to the hope that one day Eddie will walk through the door, with a huge smile on his face and a wealth of stories. If I didn't believe that, I'd go mad.

• If you have information or want to find out more about Eddie, go to www.missingpersons.org or phone the Missing Persons Helpline on Freephone 0500 700 700.