Tripping on Love (14 page)

'Lizzie, don’t panic
, it'll be OK' he said, his voice wavering. I could sense his fear.

Two more men with balaclavas got into the car, one of them propping me up and binding my wrists. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Looking down, I saw my dress was smeared with dirt and my big toenail was bleeding. One of the men pushed past me and sat near to H.

The engine started up and the car began to move. 

'Please
, where are you taking us?' I whimpered. I didn’t want to die. It wasn’t my time yet. I still had so much to do. Edward's face came into my mind. I hadn’t even had a chance to walk down the aisle, and my life was going to be cruelly cut short by three fat Latino men in balaclavas. 

The fat Latino finished binding my wrists and pointed at H.

'Why don’t you ask your little friend Malcolm here' he said aggressively. 

Malcolm? Who was Malcolm? Confusion clouded my thoughts for a moment; then clarity set in. Oh my goodness
- they'd made a mistake. They had mistaken H for a stranger called Malcolm.

Probably some petty criminal that owed them drugs or money. I felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in five minutes.

'You've got it all wrong. We don’t know a Malcolm!' I said loudly, looking towards H for support. Ignoring my comment, he remained suspiciously quiet and continued looking at the floor. The fat Latino nearest to me, shook his head, laughing. 

'Silly woman, you've no idea what you're talking about.'

'Leave her alone.' H said, looking up timidly and shuffling forward in his seat. The man in the balaclava nearest to him punched him hard in the stomach.

'Where’s the fucking money Malcolm?' he screamed, before pulling H closer to him and threatening to hit him again.
 

I couldn’t bear to watch. Poor H was being mercilessly beaten for something he had no involvement in. Who on earth was this Malcolm they kept talking about? H doubled over, whimpering.

'I'm sorry, I’ll get the money. Please just let me go, I’ll get the money.' 

I admired H for his tactic; pretending to play along in the hope we'd be freed. The car came to an abrupt stop. My stomach churned. This was it. We'd been driven to a desolate area in the middle of nowhere and would now be executed. Instead of Malcolm, who was probably somewhere in
Marbella sitting in his Jacuzzi, sipping on champagne.

Grabbing H's wrist, one of the men ripped off his watch in a swift movement.

'What’s this piece of fake shit?' he said, inspecting the watch before stamping on it. 'You think you can go around playing the big man, huh Malcolm? Yet you owe Mr Flavio 200k. Well Mr Flavio ain't playing no game here. You understand? He wants his MONEY.'

Ears ringing from the abusive language of the kidnappers, I stared at the watch smithereens on the carpeted floor of the car.
  A blue plastic mechanism stared back at me. The watch was fake?

A large wet patch started to appear at the crotch of H's trousers and the smell of ammonia filled the car, stinging my nostrils. The Latino's started laughing.
 

'You've pissed yourself, you chicken' they taunted, digging each other playfully in the ribs. 'Your friend Malcolm's pissed his pants.'
 

I looked at H and realisation dawned on me, as his eyes pleaded into mine for compassion.

'You're not called H are you?' I seethed. ‘You’re Malcolm, aren’t you?' I had a sudden urge to bolt forward and kick him in the balls. 

Laughing to myself in disbelief, I recalled my earlier conversation with Soreena. H was known throughout the coast as a successful socialite. He was respected for his business acumen and gentlemanly ways. Yet here he was now, with ammonia soaked trousers, pleading to three limited vocabulary Latino brute's. If only Soreena could see his macho façade at this moment.

Opening the car door, I was pushed forward. 'Get out.'

Heart pounding, I stumbled from the car onto sandy terrain. The floor felt cool against my one bare foot, as I struggled to balance the other leg in my four inch platform shoe. My dress had ridden up to reveal the top of my thighs. H was dragged out beside me.
 

'Please don’t hurt me.' He sank to his knees crying. Bile rose in my throat. I was managing to keep what little dignity I had left. If I was going to suffer my fate then I would accept and embrace it.
 

The tallest of the Latino men hoisted H to his feet again and undid the bindings around his wrists. Sensing the man closest to me move forward, I flinched, sq
ueezing my eyes shut. I didn’t want to know what he was going to do to me. He grabbed my hands cutting my wrists loose of the rope.

'Stop crying you pussy' he looked towards H. 'We are letting you and the girl go. This is your last warning. You have until Monday to get the money. Or else.' The way he said else made me shiver.
 

I watched in shock as they walked towards the car and got in, one of them spitting in H's direction before closing the door. The engine started up and the limo drove slowly away as I turned towards H, feeling like a woman possessed. My hands were trembling with trauma. H looked at me sheepishly.

'Lizzie please, you've got to understand’ he began. I cut him off mid flow, anger fuelling me.

'Oh yes
, I understand.' I spat my words at him, fury descending upon me like a black cloud. 'You're just the same as your watch. A fake exterior to try and impress people when really you're just a small time crook called Malcolm.' 

I, being one of those people that had unwittingly fallen for his charade, resulting in kidnap and verbal abuse. Not to mention also getting stranded in the middle of nowhere with a torn dress, one shoe and grazed limbs.
 

Taking off my remaining shoe, I reached up and knotted my long hair into a bun. I had no intention of staying in the sandy deserted area
where we'd been dumped. Realistically I only had two choices. Go left or go right. Looking up at the approaching sunrise, the decision was made for me. The right direction was bathed more in light. I'd go right. At least I’d top up my tan on the long walk home. Wherever home was. H limped forlornly behind me. 

'Lizzie please... just listen.'
 

Ignoring him, I carried on walking. Wincing with each painful step as small stones dug into my feet, my appreciation for cushioned soles and fluffy slippers blossomed.
 

Exhaustion set in and I stopped for a moment allowing my eyes to adjust to the breaking twilight. Moments later, adrenalin and relief flooded through me as I spotted a small farmhouse dotted on the horizon. If I could reach the farm, I could take shelter in one of the barns and rehydrate with milk from the cattle.
 

Instantly rebuking myself, I stopped my train of thought. I was unmistakably still tipsy and dehydration was setting in fast, muddling my mind. A small laugh escaped from my throat at the thought of my mother finding me sleeping in a haystack, and talking to a goat.

Aware that H's footsteps had quietened behind me some time ago, I turned around, my mouth dropping open at the sight of him speaking into his mobile. Enraged, I swiftly ran back in his direction, the small stones underfoot no longer an issue. I was just in time to catch the end of his conversation ordering a Taxi to collect him. 

'You have your bloody mobile?!' I raged at him furiously. I had been walking at least ten minutes and the whole time he'd had his mobile and didn’t think to inform me.

'Yes, well, I was trying to tell you to stop walking. I wanted to work out where we are so I could call a Taxi. Except you wouldn’t listen and insisted on hobbling in front' he replied, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out money. Gritting my teeth, I sat down on a nearby rock.

'I suppose you forgot to tell me you had huge amounts of cash too' I said sarcastically.

'Shut up, Lizzie. The Taxi will be here soon. We're not actually that far from the town. It's a good job I have GPS in this phone' he handed me the mobile, pointing at the map on the screen.

Disbelief stumped me for words for a few seconds.

'Oh, so not only did you have cash and a mobile. You had GPS too. How very convenient' my voice cracked with anger.

I had a sudden overwhelming urge to impart the same fate on his mobile as the kidnappers had to his watch, but I stopped myself. I needed a lift home and he was my only option. I only hoped that Soreena hadn’t called the police since our mysterious moonlight flit. Even more so I hoped she'd taken my bag home with her. The chances of it remaining safely untouched on the bar seat were very slim.

Cool, early morning air chilled our skin and it felt like we'd been waiting for weeks by the time the Taxi appeared. Stomping barefoot and eagerly towards it, I got into the front seat, giving the driver orders to drop me home first, leaving H to sit in the back of the car.

'Lizzie please, we can't let Soreena know about this.’ H let his voice trail off
, aware the driver was looking at him in the rear view mirror. He leaned forward and whispered 'or the police.' 

I folded my arms and stared forward, unable to meet his eyes. Silence ensued between us. I'd let him sweat for a while. If he honestly thought I was going to involve the police and risk getting kidnapped for a second time, he was very mistaken. I had heard all sorts about informants; fingernails being ripped away, ears chewed off and limbs being cut into pieces. I suddenly had a new found appreciation for my body. My earlobes were quite pretty on the contrary.
 

'Fine, I won't say a word to anyone' I said steadily, pausing. 'On the condition that you think up a plausible explanation to Soreena for our disappearance'.
 

Not twenty minutes later we approached my mother's villa. For once I was thankful she was a late riser and didn’t insist on locking the terrace doors. The car came
to a stop and for the first time in an hour I felt able to breathe normally. Quietly making my way out of the Taxi, I pushed the car door gently closed, but not before turning to look squarely at H.

'Do not dare to fabricate a story to Soreena that we left together or spent the night together' I warned. ‘I also want my bag back in one piece. If not the deals off.' I quietly tiptoed up the driveway towards the house, tired and frustrated.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Stella had her back to her computer monitor and was staring mindlessly out of the window. The office was small but stylishly decorated. A lime green chaise lounge took pride of place on the far wall adjacent to her desk, underneath a heavy square mirror. Retro light fittings and white Louis IV replica furniture completed the modern, chic look. Even the desk chair on which Stella sat had cost a small fortune. Cindy had expensive taste and it reflected in her choice of interior design.

The phone on Stella's desk startled her thoughts as its loud, ringing tone penetrated the silence. Begrudgingly she spun around and picked up the handset, adopting the voice she reserved for clients.
 

'Good Morning, Cee Cee Catering.'

'Stella it’s me. I'm running late - can you cover for me if Cindy calls?' Chris' breathless voice pleaded down the phone.

Irritated by the interruption
, Stella snapped 'Yes, fine. Just don’t be too long' and replaced the receiver.

The feelings she had for Chris were fast becoming short lived. She hadn’t expected the relationship to develop past the fun, flirtation stage and Chris seemed to be falling in love with her. Every waking moment was wracked with guilt lately. She was putting her marriage at jeopardy and Miles was becoming suspicious of her mood swings. She couldn’t keep up the pretence for much longer. She'd have to make a choice. Miles or Chris.

A brief look at her inbox told her that there were forty three unopened emails to deal with, not to mention the already endless work list which had to be worked through. Stella felt numb.    

Her broken sleep owed to the fact that she had once again wrestled with the idea of resigning. It was the only way she could distance herself from Chris. Cindy would be devastated. Two years of hard work together had made the business a success. She would feel let down. Stella also knew her job was her saviour. She couldn’t imagine working alongside anybody else. Cindy was not only her boss but her good friend.
 

Stella sank back against the white mesh of her chair.
  She'd have to tell Chris that things were over. Miles and her children had to come first. She'd been a fool to even get swept up in Chris' web. 

Stella knew in her heart of hearts that Miles truly adored her and despite his lack of attention recently, he would go to the ends of the earth for her. It wasn’t his fault the merger was taking up all of his energy. Even the children had said that daddy didn’t seem to be spending as much time with them. They hadn't taken the opportunity to go and find themselves an alternative father figure, though. Stella had made up her mind. As soon as Chris arrived in the office, she'd have to break the news.

Clearer headed and feeling lighter now that the decision was made, Stella steadily began replying to emails and calling clients, her deft self slowly returning.

The door swung open behind her shortly after eleven. Stella's stomach clenched and her face paled. Chris had arrived. She finished typing her sentence before turning around and bracing herself for the conversation she was about to have.

'Morning' her boss Cindy breezed, kicking the door shut behind her with her foot as she shook off her coat.

Stella groaned. Cindy never came to the office much, and the one day of the week that she had chosen to put an appearance, was the very day which Stella needed alone with Chris.

Cindy looked at Stella's worried face.

'Are you feeling OK?' she asked walking towards her desk. 'You look pale.'

Stella replaced her frown with a smile. 

'Yes I'm
great. Just trying to work on that order for Harpers and it's taking longer than I expected' she lied. Cindy nodded her head and walked towards her office.

'Tell me about it;
I had them calling me all of yesterday, making additional requests' she said, looking towards Chris' desk. She inclined her head in the direction of the desk. 'Where's Chris?' Stella shrugged her shoulders and lifted her palms.

'No idea, running a bit late I suppose' she said as uninterested as she could muster.

'OK. Well I’m going to get cracking on the Rogerson proposal' Cindy replied, settling herself down against her bureau and opening her laptop.

Stella nodded and focused back on her screen, her stomach tightening and tears threatening to appear. The talk with Chris would just have to wait until tomorrow.