WHEN they watched him leave their Edinburgh home one morning, with his rucksack and tent already packed away in his car, Bill and Esme Randall never thought it would be the last time they would see their son, Nick.
Assuming the 31-year-old was simply popping into town, his mother thought it a welcome sign. Having been diagnosed with depression and signed off his work with stress, she was glad he was getting out of the house.
The events of that Monday mornin
g on 25 April, 2005, however, marked the first day of an arduous mystery. All that is known for sure is that Mr Randall, a town planner, visited an outdoor shop, where he spent £90 on a sleeping bag, before driving north to the Highlands. His silver Audi A2 was later discovered at the Glen Nevis waterfall car park, near Fort William.
Now, nearly three years on, his family can at last find some peace, for decomposed remains found in a tent pitched in Auch Forest, near Bridge of Orchy in Argyll, were yesterday confirmed as those of Mr Randall.
The body was discovered on 14 March by forestry workers and Lothian and Borders Police said there were no suspicious circumstances surrounding his death. In a short statement, the Randall family thanked police for their efforts and asked for the chance to grieve in private.
Were the pain of having their child apparently vanish into thin air not great enough, the plight of Mr and Mrs Randall was made worse by the thought that he was still alive, perhaps living a new life.
Every morning on waking, Mr Randall said memories of the last moments he spent with his son flashed through his mind, as if on a cinema reel.
An extensive police search and television appeal gave hope that he would one day be traced safe and well, a hope given credence, it seemed, by a series of sightings four months after his disappearance.
Two walkers reported seeing a man matching his description near the summit of Creag an Dubh, on Tayside. Only days before, the owner of Blair Castle caravan park in Blair Atholl reported speaking to a man resembling Nick, who was looking to pitch his tent but could not afford the fee.
Mr Randall and his son's friends ventured north, putting up posters and searching for Nick's green Vango tent, but all to no avail.
Undeterred, Mrs Randall even consulted clairvoyants in her quest to track down her son. One told her he was near water and suggested he had changed his name to Peter. Another told her he was alive, but was travelling, perhaps in north Wales.
The information led Nick's parents to holiday in campsites in Snowdonia, walking around residences, showing locals their son's photograph. No-one, of course, knew anything of him.
Though they have been finally reunited, the Randall family may never know precisely why Nick decided to walk out on his life and go north. Described as a "happy, personable and outgoing" young man, who played the flute in a ceilidh band, he suffered from depression during university, but after seeking the help of a psychologist, and taking anti-depressants, had forged a successful career as a town planner in Edinburgh.
Two years before his disappearance however, the illness returned, partly due to the stress of his job. As the clouds of despair seemed impossible to lift, Nick was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, the manic-depressive condition, and it also emerged that he was dyslexic. Around this time, he began to stray from home. At first, it was for a few days, but on the second occasion, his parents grew fearful, as Nick told them simply: "I can't handle this."
"He just could not take any more worry and responsibility I think," his mother said in 2006. "Everything was a problem to him. From being somebody who was always on the go, he just gradually lost interest in everything."
Having returned to the safety of the family home, it seemed Nick was making progress, his medical condition having been properly diagnosed. Yet nothing, it appeared, could desist him from disappearing on one last, fateful occasion.
