Charlie Had His Chance

by Ellis Major

  “It’s tough being in charge and knowing how much better it could be,” Charlie sympathised. “I can see why you’re doing it. I’d rather it hadn’t been us you picked on, though.”

  “Yes.” Yusuf’s face clouded slightly and he shrugged. “I would rather not grow to like you, but we have started now.”

  “Shame about the poles, but we’ll have to think of something else for our showers.”

  “Aaah.” Yusuf now understood. “Then, Mister Charlie, you simply need to build another enclosure. I may be able to assist.”

  He exchanged a few quick words with one of his men. “We have just the thing,” he said with a smile, pointing at one of the other rudimentary shacks. “Some of the material from the roofs, we have some sheets which were spare. It is behind the building there. Take what you need.”

  “Marvellous,” Charlie thanked him. “Everyone will be happier for a wash.”

  Yusuf smiled. “You English, you sweat so much.”

  “It’s cold where we come from,” Charlie told him. “It never gets this hot in England.” He hesitated. “One other thing I just wanted to check.”

  Yusuf gazed at him encouragingly.

  “Are you chaps ok with music?” Charlie wondered. “I’ve read sometimes that music is a problem…”

  “You are our guests,” Yusuf told him expansively. “And we have no objection to music.” Again, his expression clouded very slightly as he spoke. “Although it is not something we have much use for.”

  “That’s very kind,” Charlie said. “Just wanted to make sure, what with different cultures and all that. I suppose it would be silly to ask if you had access to any batteries. I hope we won’t be here for too long but…”

  He broke off in astonishment as Yusuf and his companions, both of whom obviously understood enough English to be following their conversation, threw back their heads and howled with laughter.

  Their laughter continued for several minutes. Every time Yusuf attempted to speak, someone would say ‘batteries’ and they would go off again. It was all rather infectious and Charlie was soon grinning. The noise was such that Eve had stopped work to watch whilst they laughed until they choked.

  “We are rich in batteries, we have a wealth of batteries that would astonish even the finest vendor of batteries in your great city of London.” Yusuf managed to gasp out a response eventually.

  Charlie was slightly puzzled. He didn’t see Yusuf as the sort of man who did sarcasm.

  “The joke is,” Yusuf explained at last. “We have no use for them.”

  “So you really do have some?” Charlie queried in puzzlement.

  “We do,” Yusuf confirmed and then cleared up Charlie’s confusion. During his time as a pirate guard, because he hadn’t been a local, he hadn’t shared in much of the cash. He’d received food and lodging plus a lorry load of batteries, filched from a container ship.

  “I brought them back. I thought I was in business,” Yusuf explained. “Nobody wants to buy them. I have them stored whilst I think of what to do with them. It taught me a valuable lesson. Planning is very important and so when I planned our venture, as you called it, I was much more thorough and careful. You are most welcome to whatever batteries you need, Mister Charlie.” He laughed. “No extra charge.”

  Charlie beamed. “I have to say, this has been a most agreeable conversation.”

  Yusuf grinned again. “You have made us all laugh, and laughter is good,” he said, turning to mutter a request to one of his partners in crime. The man shot off into the hut and returned grasping a small tin. He handed it to Yusuf who, in turn, handed it to Charlie. “A small reminder of home, perhaps,” Yusuf suggested. “Part of my pay was two cases of these. They have been very popular with the children in my village.”

  Charlie stared at the tin in his hand. “Sproates Specialist Travel Sweets,” he read. “Well I never. What a small World, Mr Yusuf. It wasn’t so long ago I met with Mr and Mrs Sproate themselves, the owners of this business. I’m sure they’d be delighted to think of their sweets being so well known here. And, being from Yorkshire they’d probably not be surprised at all.”

  “I have heard of Yorkshire,” Yusuf announced. “I saw a programme that was called The Last of the Summer Wine. They have strange customs there, I think, and are very idle. You are not from Yorkshire Mister Charlie, of course. I can understand what you are saying.”

  Charlie nodded. “If you think they’re difficult to understand in Yorkshire,” he said. “Never kidnap a Geordie.”

  Yusuf smiled again. “I shall bear your advice in mind Mister Charlie although I hope not to do this again. We are not a greedy people.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Charlie told him. “If you made too much of a habit of it then the Americans would probably send an aircraft carrier battle group and use your village for target practice.” He held out his hand. “Thank you very much for your kindness, Mr Yusuf. I’d better go and help out or I’ll be told off by Evie.” They shook hands warmly and Charlie wandered off to inspect the corrugated iron.

  It proved more than adequate and, by the end of the day, a rudimentary shower enclosure had been erected. This, coupled with Eve’s herculean efforts in digging the well (less ably aided by Geoff and Roddy), meant that by late afternoon they were able to take turns in sluicing themselves fairly clean and donning a change of clothes.

  As the afternoon drew on the captives hunkered down in the shade with a pleasant feeling of achievement.

  “I vote Evie gets extra rations tonight,” Charlie proposed. “She can have my date.” He began to open the case of his keyboard. “And I don’t mean with Yusuf – sorry guys, bit weak. What are we building tomorrow, then, a power station?”

  “Well why not,” said Evie as Charlie turned on the keyboard and played a few notes, just to check the volume.

  The effect of the noise was astonishing! Guards appeared from every direction to stare and Yusuf even sat up in surprise, especially when Charlie played a few more chords and it became clear that he was in control of the music.

  “Must have thought I had a radio or something, when I asked him about music,” Charlie muttered before raising his voice slightly.

  “In light of today’s efforts,” he announced. “The inaugural concert of the Wadi El Paradiso house band will begin with that most appropriate of tunes: ‘Mississippi Mud’! The choir and orchestra welcome audience participation! One, two, three, four!”

  Eve and the other former Guides, conditioned as they were to camp fire sing-alongs, joined in immediately followed, after a little syncopated encouragement from Charlie, by the others. The first rendition was a bit ragged, but by the third Charlie had them cracked into line and they banged it out like pros.

  Yusuf led the applause and Charlie then encouraged Eve to duet with him on a few blues numbers.

  Each song garnered clapping from the audience until Charlie concluded that he had better bring matters to an end. He feared that if he didn’t they ran the risk of going to bed without any supper.

  “Thank you for your appreciation,” he called out. “Tomorrow’s concert will commence at a slightly earlier hour, management and weather permitting!”

  ~~~

  During the sing-along, Charlie had noticed something very striking. He tackled Rowena on the subject as soon as he got the chance the following day.

  Late in the morning, once the well had been consolidated, some washing had been done and Yusuf had driven off in one of the pick-ups, Charlie suggested a stroll around the ‘estate’, a suggestion Rowena fell in with readily enough.

  “Rowena,” he told her, as they started to amble. “You were sitting right behind me and I couldn’t help but notice something. Now, when it comes to music I don’t beat about the bush. I come right out and say exactly what I mean. I don’t prevaricate or dither. I try to be tactful but I’m not one to mince my words. What I’m trying to say is…”

  “Charlie,” Rowena interrupted him with a laugh, slipping her han
d into his arm “Spit it out. I sing flat is that it? Don’t worry. I’ll just hum along if I offend your sensitive ears.”

  Charlie burst out laughing. There was no question that he was genuinely amused and she couldn’t help but laugh too. “What then?” she demanded. “Charlie, what is it that’s so funny?”

  “Ha, ha, ha, that you sing flat? How ridiculous. Did you know you have a remarkable singing voice?” Her hand in his arm! This was a new and very agreeable development - and it had happened even before he’d paid her a compliment!

  “Have I?” she seemed quite surprised. “I’ve never done much singing.”

  “Then it’s time you did,” Charlie told her firmly. He felt in his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Are you game to have a crack at these later on? Those are the lyrics?”

  “You mean on my own?” she asked him nervously.

  “On your own, most definitely. Trust me on this, Rowena. I know about music. It’ll be a doddle. And if you can’t make a fool of yourself here, then where can you make a fool of yourself? Not that you will, of course. Sorry, getting muddled up.”

  She squeezed his arm. That was even more agreeable. “I trust you, Charlie,” she told him, abruptly. “Of course I’ll have a go. Like you say, if not now, then when.”

  Charlie grinned. Good, good, good. “Great!” he said. “There’s nothing like a sing-song to cheer everyone up and put Yusuf and his boys off guard. We’ll see how it goes but we might have the start of a plan!”

  Charlie had a word with Yusuf, when Yusuf returned (in a fairly good mood), and explained that a longer concert would be possible if they could get fed a bit earlier. “Then you can decide when you want it to end and tuck us up for the night,” he suggested. “And we won’t all be trying to cook or eat in the dark.” Charlie thought that if the music kept them listening and spellbound long into the darkness then it opened up one or two avenues...

  Yusuf arranged that it would be so. Dinner was served early – more stew, rice and dates – and they all settled down, captors and captives together. It was a rather weird little scene that would have greeted a passing traveller, thin on the ground though they might be, as the sun drifted scenically down towards the western horizon.

  The captives sat under their tarpaulin. Two Kalashnikov-toting guards were stationed behind them, but the rest of the gang, weapons resting on their crossed legs, were ranged in a semi-circle out ‘front of house’ as Charlie put it.

  Charlie started off with a bit of Chopin by way of a slow introduction, then they had a few sing-along numbers. In turn this jolly section was followed by several duets between Charlie and Eve. There were smiles all around and a bizarre air of communal contentment.

  Charlie then announced that it was a great pleasure for the Wadi El Paradiso orchestra to introduce their special guest, Ms Rowena Hepple. The sun had now set and the scene was bathed in moonlight. This softened everything and gave the ugly buildings, the ragged palms and the surrounding mounds and hillocks a strange, shadowy beauty.

  Charlie urged Rowena to stand up, which she did, glancing around herself self-consciously.

  There was a general murmur of interest from everyone, captives and captors alike.

  “This was Charlie’s idea,” she said quietly. “Don’t blame me if it sounds like a cat being strangled.”

  Charlie’s confidence had, however, not been misplaced. Rowena’s singing was as far from the sound of a cat being strangled as the Wadi El Paradiso was from featuring on a Cruise itinerary. Charlie knew his music like nothing else. The first song, Don’t Fence me In drew a few chuckles as Rowena sang the chorus. She then went on to I Love Paris, You Do Something to Me and finished up with Someone to Watch Over Me.

  Charlie allowed them no time to clap until the end. Without exception all sat there, entranced by Rowena’s beautiful, clear, pitch perfect voice and the emotion she put into the songs. It was magical, especially the last number. In fact that was so good even the guys who couldn’t understand English were affected. She couldn’t only sing, she could interpret the song. It was oddly surreal that such a talent should have been discovered in such circumstances, but Charlie couldn’t have cared less. He was tingling with delight at what he’d unearthed.

  Wild applause and cheers greeted the final notes and everyone went to bed in a jolly mood. Charlie was right. They might be imprisoned in a complete dump by armed ruffians, with no idea how long the ordeal would last, but a bit of music had helped to hold the horrors at bay and build another small bridge with their captors.

  Rowena murmured to Charlie that she’d really enjoyed it in the end. “I never had any idea I could do that. It was great. I know it sounds ridiculous but I feel happy.” She sounded oddly shy “Thank you, Charlie.”

  “Good work on the lulling front, Charlie,” Roddy whispered, by way of asserting himself as they groped around in the dark by their bunks. His father had told him once it was a good idea to praise the staff now and then. “For greedy kidnappers, they aren’t all that bad really are they? I reckon they can be fooled with a bit more of this and then we can try something.”

  “Oi, watch where yore puttin’ yer bleedin’ ‘and,” Babs hissed as Charlie lurched slightly whilst pulling off a shoe and grabbed for where he thought the bunk was.

  “Sorry, old girl,” He apologised. “What was that?”

  “Charlie, I feel sorry for yer if yer doan know a tit when yer squeeze one. If yer play yer cards right I might even let yer ‘ave a little peek tomorrer so yer know wot ter look for when yer meet the right girl.”

  Chapter 4 – Scarface (Year 2 – January)

  The following day, after a quiet start, the mood started to change.

  The morning was calm enough. Charlie had a chat with Rowena and they settled on some more songs for that evening. She was keen to try whatever he suggested and began to study the lyrics avidly. Some of the others worked on improving the showers, and Eve and Millie went in search of the cook - to see if they might be able to make a few suggestions for variations in what was fast becoming a monotonous diet.

  The first inkling of any problem was when Charlie sauntered over to Yusuf and asked about new batteries, explaining that he thought his original ones were starting to fail already. Yusuf was quite gruff and non-committal. Although still civil enough, it was clear that he was grumpy.

  The fun really started just after ‘lunch’ – bread, dates etc etc (Eve and Millie hadn’t met with much success).

  Charlie was just showing one of the younger guards how to use the keyboard when three newcomers appeared at the edge of their resort.

  The foremost of them, a tall, thunderous fellow with a fearsome ragged scar running right down one side of his face, immediately started shouting the odds. He rushed over to where Charlie was sitting and kicked the keyboard off his lap onto the ground. Charlie started to rise.

  “Here, steady on,” he protested. “Who are you?”

  Scarface was now hurling orders at the young guard who hastened to hand his gun to the new arrival.

  Charlie began to wonder if his time had come. He swallowed hard and prepared to meet his end like a man, with some robust defiance. Scarface showed no interest in Charlie however, turning instead and emptying the entire magazine into the innocent body of Charlie’s electric organ. The execution complete, Scarface thrust the weapon back into the guard’s hands, spat at Charlie’s feet then stamped off towards Yusuf, continuing to yell.

  Charlie exchanged glances with the guard. The guard looked sheepish. “Doesn’t he like music,” Charlie asked. “Or was it just the boogie woogie that offended the sod?” The guard wasn’t one of those who spoke much English. To be fair, even if he had, he might well not have been au fait with the finer points of musical terminology.

  At the sound of the shooting, all the rest of Yusuf’s men had appeared on the run.

  Scarface harangued them at length, pointed at the keyboard, pointed at the guards and pointed at the prison block, from which Row
ena and Virginia had just cautiously emerged. The sight of these two, and then the other three girls walking tentatively back from the shower area, seemed to drive him into an even greater rage and he turned and shrieked at Yusuf for a full five minutes, before turning on his heel and stamping off whence he had come.

  Yusuf came over to them. He gestured for the young guard to take up a position by the door of the prison block. Yusuf looked both angry and very awkward.

  “Friends of yours?” Charlie wondered.

  “No,” Yusuf grunted with considerable force. “He has called me many bad things. He said I should keep you all, especially the women, out of sight of my men. He said you would pollute us with evil.”

  “But ‘e’s gone,” Barbara pointed out.

  Yusuf now became acutely embarrassed. He stared at his feet. “Yes,” he mumbled. “But he will be back later.”

  “We’ll be good and stay indoors,” Eve promised.

  “He’s taking you away,” Yusuf explained, even more awkwardly.

  Everyone stared at him.

  “But why?” Geoff asked. “Has the ransom been paid already?”

  Somehow they all knew that the answer was no.

  “I have sold you to him,” Yusuf told them, eyes still on the floor. “I contacted them too soon. I thought I would have an auction. I should have given your friends a chance. I have discovered that they are not people to whom you say no, these men. They have told me their price. The alternative is not a pleasant one.”

  “Who are ‘they’ exactly?” Charlie asked him. “They don’t seem the cheeriest of souls.”

  Yusuf finally turned his eyes up to look at Charlie.