Kidnapped?

by Rebecca Alderson

  ~*~

  ‘Wake up Emma.’

  I opened my eyes and looking around; I saw that we were in a motorway service station.

  ‘Hello, why are we here?’

  ‘We need to talk, Emma; are you awake enough?’

  ‘Mm, I think so.’

  ‘I’m not taking you home, but to my house. Your father phoned me while you were in the land of nod and asked me to look after you for a short while as he has to go away on erm, a business trip. Are you okay with that?’

  I sighed. It was all too good to be true. I wasn't going to see Dad during the holidays. I had, by now lost track of how often this happened. Why hadn’t she told me this before?

  I nodded after she repeated her question. Home without Dad was boring. The housekeeper was ancient and the cook not much younger. We lived in the country and there were no friends that I could hang out with.

  ‘Why didn’t you wake me up? I would have liked to have talked to him.’

  ‘The reception was rotten and he kept breaking up. Do you mind coming to my house for a bit.’

  ‘Is it far?’

  ‘About an hour from here.’

  ‘Okay then,’ I replied sadly.

  ‘That’s good; do you need to use the toilet?

  I nodded.

  ‘I’ll come with you. I could do with a break.’

  Claire looked a bit nervous for some reason as we walked into the services. It appeared that she didn’t want to hang around, so we were soon back in her car and about an hour later we arrived at her house.

  We didn’t speak much on the journey. I was thinking of Dad and the fact that this holiday was going to be a bit rubbishy. Claire seemed to be preoccupied too and was constantly looking in her car mirrors. I thought that she was probably a nervous driver or something.

  Her house was detached, along a quiet road of similar houses. We pulled up on her drive and then got out. Claire opened the front door and we went in the house, with me carrying my case and bag and her, some carrier bags.

  Claire took me upstairs and into a bedroom.

  Looking around, I saw that it was a small bedroom, obviously a young girl’s one as it had a lot of pink on the walls and the bedding.

  ‘Just leave your stuff here and I’ll make us something to eat; pizza okay?’

  ‘Yes please,’ I replied.

  I was shown the lounge and I just sat her for a while listening to my iPod through the ear buds.

  We ate our pizzas in the kitchen, Claire asked me about school, my friends and what sort of things I liked to do. Apart from football, I didn’t have anything resembling a hobby and I only had one friend, Georgina and she was only friends with me because we were both what people would call tomboys and had what the teachers call “an attitude”. I only ever wore dresses or skirts when I had to, at school for instance. I much preferred jeans, hoodies and plain tops. Other girls were spouting on about fashion, makeup and even boys in our year, but it all left me a bit cold.

  I was told that I would grow out of it, but I saw little sign of that so far. I preferred who and what I was and I just wasn’t into the fluffy, uber-girlie stuff that some of the kids at school went in for.

  We both finished eating at the same time. Claire put her knife and fork down and then looked at me.

  ‘Well Emma, I can’t put it off any longer, I have to tell you about what has been going on. You need to be brave about this, but you are here because of your father.’

  I looked at her. What did she mean?

  ‘Why, what happened; is he hurt, what...?’

  ‘Well your father has been a bit naughty.’

  She sounded like he had been a naughty child.

  ‘Naughty, what do you mean?’

  ‘I don’t know how much you know about running a large multi-national company?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘Well at your age, I’m not surprised so I’ll keep it simple. Your father has been systematically taking money out of the pension fund...’

  ‘Pension fund?’

  ‘Yes, that’s a fund set up by the company to pay workers a pension when they retire. Anyway, for some time, the company has had financial problems because of various things that you probably won’t understand. To keep the company going your father has evidently used the pension funds.’

  ‘Isn’t he allowed to do that?’

  ‘No, the money should only be used for pensions and not be touched. Normally, the funds are kept separate from the normal business, but your father has somehow been able to dip into it whenever he feels like it.’

  ‘Is he in trouble?’

  ‘Yes he is; he needed to disappear for a while and rather quickly, so he has, shall we say, gone on an extended break abroad, to a country where he is safe and cannot be brought back to face any possible charges.’

  I didn’t know what to think — my Dad a criminal! I couldn’t believe it, my Dad was a nice man, he was good to his workers and everyone said how great he was. He was kind and gentle and he loved me. After Mum died of cancer, he became my mother as well as father. I know that he was always busy, but when he could, he managed to find time to be with me.

  ‘Can I speak to him?’

  ‘Not at the moment; by now, he is on a flight. He said that he will get word to you as soon as possible. He is so sorry that he didn’t have time to see you or get word to you sooner.’

  ‘Where is Henry?’

  ‘He has gone with your father. I don’t know if you are aware, but Henry, apart from being a chauffeur, is also your father’s security man, minder and personal guard.’

  ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘That’s OK, not many people do. He needs to stay with your father to protect him.’

  ‘But why are you looking after me?’

  ‘Well, as you know, you don’t have any close relatives and he asked me to look after you and keep you safe until all this mess is sorted out. Anyway, erm...he and I have been getting rather close lately and he turned to me for help.’

  I didn’t really know what she meant by “close” or perhaps didn’t want to know, so I picked up on something else.

  ‘Safe, what do you mean by that?’

  She looked sad. I suppose that she was rather pretty, about my fathers’ age; thin, tall, with large blue eyes.

  ‘Well Emma, there are some people out there who will want to do your father some harm after the pension problems become public. Think of it, all those people who thought that they would have a cosy pension when they retire could now have nothing. Then there are also the distinct possibility of police enquires.’

  ‘What has all that got to do with me?’

  ‘They may want to get at your father, through you.’

  I didn’t want to think about what she meant by that, as it sounded a bit nasty.

  I was close to tears. My dad a criminal and abroad and me hiding away ‘cos it wasn’t safe for me. What was going to happen to us?

  ‘I...I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Don’t cry dear, here’s a tissue.’

  A wiped my eyes. I tried to be big and grown up about this, but it was very upsetting. So much for me being a hard case.

  My tears had dripped onto my school blouse.

  ‘I’m all wet now,’ I said.

  ‘Never mind that, listen to me Emma. It’s possible that you will be looked for. You can’t go back to school, as that would be an obvious place for you to be found and anyway, it’s half term. Also the police will probably want to speak to you and then when it’s found out that your father has left the country, you may be handed over to social services and your father will not be able to send for you.’

  ‘That doesn’t explain...’

  ‘As I say, the authorities and perhaps other people will be on the lookout for you; the press, disgruntled employees and goodness knows who else. If you were dressed and looked different, they wouldn’t know it was you.’

  ‘That’s silly; we would never get away with it!
’

  She smiled.

  ‘I know that it sounds a bit daft, but you don’t want to get caught do you?’

  ‘No, but...’

  ‘And, if you are caught, your father might feel that he needs to get back here before he is able to sort things out — then he may be hurt or sent to prison — do you want that?’

  ‘No, of course not, but...’

  ‘Well then; you need to be disguised and the best way to do that is pretend that you are someone else. Your father suggested it, in fact.’

  ‘He did?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘H...how are you going to disguise me? Not as a boy!’

  She smiled.

  ‘No, you are too pretty to be a boy and you have the shape of a girl.’

  ‘I’m not pretty.’ I said with certainty.

  ‘You should look in the mirror some time. In a few years time, you’ll be fighting off the boys.’

  ‘Rubbish.’

  ‘I kid you not. Now, we can dye your hair for a start. It can change your look dramatically. I can also cut it for you; in a previous life, I worked in a salon.’

  ‘I like my hair long.’

  ‘Even though you are a bit of a tomboy?’

  I scowled.

  She just smiled in the superior irritating way that some adults have when they know they are right.

  ‘It will grow out and we need you to look a lot different. It’s for your safety. Look, we are at my house at the moment, but we can’t stay here long, it’s not safe. Before I picked you up, I got some things for you to wear; we can’t go back to your house remember; it’s too dangerous. The clothes are in those carrier bags in the bedroom.’

  ‘I have clothes in my case.’

  ‘I bet that they are jeans, t-shirts and stuff like that.’

  ‘So, lots of girls wear jeans.’

  She sighed and then talked to me as if I was a little kid that needed simple explanations all the time.

  ‘As I said before, we need to change your look. We want you to be someone different so that you look nothing like Emma. Doing something with your hair is a very good start, but we also have to change the sort of things that you wear too, then no-one will recognise you. ’

  I followed her up to the bedroom like I was going to the gallows.

  In the overly pink bedroom, I looked at the bags uncertainly. This was all like a nightmare.

  ‘I know, it’s hard Emma, but think of it as an adventure and it should only be for a little while.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘I don’t know yet; this has happened so fast that we haven’t sorted things out fully.’

  She stood up.

  ‘Let’s go and sort your hair out and then you can try on your clothes.’

  I reluctantly followed her out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. To say the least, I was not a happy bunny!