Dear Beneficiary (18 page)

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Authors: Janet Kelly

BOOK: Dear Beneficiary
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I'd already taken the opportunity to explain to her the first part of the plan. It involved her trying to be nice to her guard which I thought could be something of a challenge.

‘What I need you to do is start to talk him,' I explained. ‘Ask his name so we can start getting personal. Make him think you want to be his friend. Show interest in his family, his hobbies. Anything that comes to mind.'

Tracey looked at me as if I'd just walked off a spaceship and given her the meaning of life. Eventually she closed her mouth.

‘You are joking? I wouldn't want to be friends with that tosser if he was the last bloke on earth.'

I suspected the feeling was mutual, but needed to get Tracey to understand it was all an act.

‘I didn't say you actually had to be his friend. Just pretend to be. We need to get them onside so we can get out of here.'

Tracey scratched her head along the dark line of her parting that was splitting the peroxide blonde into two totally separate entities.

‘They're never going to let us out. They think we'll give them their fortune, which is silly cos I've got nuffin. Not now I've given it all to Baz.'

I knew this was going to be a difficult plan to execute but had to persevere, even though I felt I was bashing my head against a brick wall, double-sealed with concrete and iron filings and plastered for good measure.

‘They won't know they are going to let us out. We're just going to have to get them to let down their guard a bit. Pardon the pun.'

‘OK. You're the boss. Tell me what to do,' said Tracey in a bored voice, suggesting she wasn't whole-heartedly confident I knew what I was doing. If the truth be known, I wasn't totally convinced myself, but one idea was better than none at all. We'd been in the shack for ten days with no sign of release or indication of what our captors wanted to do with us. And I really needed a hot shower and a haircut, not to mention a pedicure. The lack of decent flooring had played havoc with my feet.

In fairness they'd treated us reasonably well, under the circumstances. The food was limited, but as they ate the same as us, I could see an opportunity to use my skills to improve things all round.

‘Just work with me on this, please,' I said to Tracey. ‘I'm not sure exactly how we are going to get out of here but I have the start of a plan and just need to think it through. If we can get these men to think we are friendly we are halfway to where we need to be.'

Gowon let the other guard into the shack, and he moved towards Tracey with his handcuffs. I saw she tried her best to give him a friendly smile, looking at me for assurance she was doing the right thing.

He looked startled, partly because the gap in her teeth seemed to be increasing on a daily basis, but also because, still sporting the yellowing remnants of his bloody nose, he probably didn't know what to expect next. He stepped cautiously towards her.

‘You know what? I don't even know your name,' she said to him. ‘Seeing as you see me knockers every day I should know it. It's only polite.'

Her smile was quite scary. Just a few warts and the effect could be witch-like in combination with the lack of tooth and a furry tongue. At least she was trying to follow my instructions, and the knowledge made my heart feel lighter. Maybe we could work this all to our advantage and make our getaway. It might take a few days, but just the glimmer of light at the end of what had been a very dark tunnel was enough to lift my mood. It seemed Tracey's attempts at friendliness, although not breaking the ice, were cracking the surface.

‘I call myself Chiddy,' he said hesitantly, placing the handcuff over Tracey's wrist.

‘Weird name. Sounds like Chiddy Chiddy Bang Bang,' she laughed.

The guard looked hurt.

‘It's Chiddy Bang. After the Nigerian rapper. He's very famous.'

‘Never heard of him, mate. Not exactly Eminem, is it?'

I shot a glare at Tracey. It was important to boost his ego, not alienate him even further than she already had with her boxing skills.

‘I think that's a lovely name, Chiddy. Can we call you Chiddy now?' I asked.

He nodded and smiled a bit.

‘It's not the name my mother gave me. But my friends call me Chiddy, because he's my hero.'

Now that's a start
, I thought.

Gowon put the handcuff over my arm but didn't lock it. He'd learned there was nothing for him in our bathroom ritual if my hands were tied, so to speak. I'd gained his confidence and I think he was falling a little bit in love with me. I didn't mind, although he wasn't a patch on Darius so the feeling was unlikely to be requited. He made for a passing distraction, however.

On the short walk to the washing area I could hear Tracey making small talk with Chiddy. He was initially reluctant to respond but when she asked about rap music in Nigeria he lit up like a sparkler at a bonfire party.

‘Chiddy is da best. He made mix tape called
The Swelly Express
. He broke da Guinness Record for da Longest Freestyle Rap and da Longest Marathon Record for rappin' for more than nine hours, man,' I heard him tell her.

He then went into more detail, which I could see was lost on Tracey, whose eyes had glazed over. She occupied herself with her washing ritual and the occasional nod to express continued interest in the information she was being given.

‘
The Swelly Express
is about Chiddy's rise in the music business. He struggled but he works with Kate Nash, Tinie Tempah. He's a legend!'

Tracey was washing her hair as best she could with cold water and washing-up liquid but still managed to raise her head as if in awe of Chiddy's knowledge. For a woman with little going on in the intelligence department she was playing this game quite well.

‘Yeah, sounds it. Can you play his music to us?'

Good girl
, I thought. I was proud of her. She was doing and saying all the right things to get his trust.

Meanwhile, I was as certain as I could be that Gowon was in my thrall. He clutched my buttock while pressing his body into mine. I'd not taken my clothes off yet and thought maybe I should give him something to wait for.

‘You know, Gowon. I'm sure there is a way we can do something far better for you.'

He looked blank and pulled back from his position, allowing a gap between us big enough for me to place my hand down his trousers. His manhood swelled beneath it as I tightened my grip, so I moved it along his shaft until it was stretched to its fullest extent.

‘You just need to find us somewhere we can go. Then you can have the benefit of all my experience,' I added, loosening my hold to ensure a level of frustration.

He grunted and pushed himself into me, grinding his hips into my pelvis. I pretended I didn't know what he wanted me to do and started to undress, slowly. His face looked pained but then relaxed as his thoughts unfolded.

‘You mean,
all
your experience?'

‘Oh, yes, Gowon. Is that what you would like?'

I took off my bra, leaving me just in my smallest underpants, and poured the water from the can over my shoulders, letting it drip over my breasts and onto the floor. It would seem my seduction techniques were popular. I could almost smell his brain burning as he tried to work out what could be done.

‘I have an idea. Leave it with me,' he said, not pushing himself against me, allowing me to carry on washing. I kept myself very much to myself to keep the suspense going. He needed to be distracted while I thought what the next part of the plan might be.

Meanwhile Chiddy was in some kind of monologue about the music he could play for Tracey and it seemed she had him locked in enthusiastic discussion. It's amazing how you can suddenly connect with someone just by finding their passion, and she'd certainly found his. Hopefully I'd done the same with Gowon.

We were led back to the shack and both the men left us with smiles on their faces. They were animated and excited; certainly Gowon was, judging by the lump in his trousers. Everything was working very well.

‘Did you hear him? Like a bleedin' dictionary of rap music. God knows I likes me music but not that much,' said Tracey.

‘You did brilliantly. It couldn't have gone better,' I told her, and went over to squeeze her arm.

She looked at me quizzically.

‘Really? I only asked his name.'

‘Well, it seems that was enough. He is totally onside now, you wait and see,' I said.

Tracey beamed. I suspected she'd had very little praise in her life and was openly thrilled at being useful for something.

‘So, what's the plan, boss?' she said.

I was wary of telling her I hadn't really got one and was hoping that some ideas would come to me soon. She'd need something positive to focus on if she was going to retain her commitment to befriending Chiddy, so I gave her the barest details of my thought process: that if we got the guards onside we could somehow get them to help us escape. I wasn't sure quite how, but if they saw us as people and recognised we needed to get out alive to see our families, we might be able to appeal to their better nature. Airing the briefest outline of my thoughts helped give them power and transformed Tracey's demeanour immediately. From being forlorn and passive she was positive and encouraging. Maybe we could do this between us. I felt more exhilarated than I'd been about anything for a long time.

We passed the afternoon chatting about what we'd been missing most in captivity, apart from people. Shampoo seemed pretty high on the list, alongside hot water, a good mattress, white crusty bread and a proper cup of tea. We also both missed
Coronation Street
, while Tracey said she missed
The Jeremy Kyle Show
, claiming she was asked to go on it once but couldn't make it as she was away. I'd never heard of it and it sounded thoroughly ghastly, revolving around the lives of unemployed drug addicts from council estates. I wondered what they'd make a programme about next – the multitude of illnesses you can get from a toilet seat?

Tracey told me about her background, growing up in a south London estate with an alcoholic mother and older brother who abused her on a regular basis. She didn't see it as abuse at the time, as it was all very normal being molested. She thought it happened to everyone.

I told her a bit about my life with Colin and she said it sounded very boring. She was probably right. She asked lots of questions about my family, like what they did, what they liked, what clothes they wore. I couldn't answer many of them. Maybe I should take more notice in future.

When the door opened early that evening we were surprised to see both Gowon and Chiddy bringing the trays of food. Usually it was Gowon on his own, and he'd place the tray down and leave.

However, Tracey's feigned interest in rap music had worked wonders. Chiddy had brought a CD cover to show her, while Gowon's face was like a child waiting for Christmas Day so he could open his presents. He even tried to wink at me, which made me want to laugh, as both eyes closed, making him look a bit like a koala on sleeping pills. We were getting somewhere.

‘I'm getting a bit fed up with eggs and bananas,' I said to Gowon.

‘This is all we have,' he replied apologetically. ‘We have the same. It's boring but keeps us alive. Sometimes Chike will cook. He said he will make some cupcakes but never gets round to it. He's got to finish ‘Baa, Baa, Black Sheep' by the end of the week, so won't hear of doing anything else.'

An idea started to formulate and my heart raced as I thought of it. Where I couldn't see a tunnel, let alone any light at the end of it, a faint glimmer was starting to lead me down a path that could be the one to freedom.

‘Can you get flour and maybe some oil? Or maybe some lard or butter?' I asked. As I spoke I showed him the recipe for banana bread I'd torn out of the magazine. ‘Chike made us something like this the other day so there must be. If you can get the ingredients I'll make this. Look.'

Gowon looked at the picture of the deliciously succulent-looking banana bread and nodded his head.

‘I'll find it. For tomorrow.'

He and Chiddy left the room, and as they did I turned to Tracey and offered her the ‘high five' or whatever it's called.

‘We've got 'em eating out our hands,' she said, and I momentarily had to agree with her, while also smiling at her use of language. She could be more right than she knew.

‘There's some way to go yet but we're on the right track,' I added.

When Chiddy came back later that night with the herbal nightcap, I told Tracey we had to hide it. We took a couple of sips but poured the rest into the bowl we had used on our first day for our toilet needs. That was enough to ensure we wouldn't be tempted to drink it, even though the bowl had been scrubbed clean.

Getting to sleep was troublesome, as we were excited at the possibility we could persuade the men to help us escape. We passed time talking of our favourite restaurants. Tracey had never heard of the Wolseley and I wasn't too sure about Charlie's Chicken.

It was rather pleasant to experience such extremes of emotion, now we had high hopes of getting out of this place. My life had mainly been on the straight and narrow. Mostly narrow, in hindsight.

We didn't need to be woken up, as the light from the dawn had already prepared us for the morning. The usual ritual of breakfast – more eggs – and the trip to the bathroom was charged with a new energy. The men were preoccupied with their own anticipation and we were gently hopeful we were finally in charge of our destiny.

After bringing us clean clothes, Gowon took me to another shack in the settlement, one I hadn't seen before when we were taken to see Chike. It was away from the road and towards the edge of the water where a rocky path ran alongside. There were tyre tracks that showed a car had come up close to the building, which was far more substantial than ours.

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