Generations in White
The Grandmother
Oh god – it
must have been back in the mid to late sixties when that happened. I had been invited to a wedding in Chelsea,
with your grandfather, and we had just come back from the reception to the
hotel to change for the evening event.
Now bear in
mind when this was when I describe the outfit I was wearing. It was an ice blue mini coat dress with short
sleeves, and a collar with silver edging, as well as a
pair of long white gloves and silver white tight boots that came up to my knee. I also had a blue hat on, rather like a
Cossack hat.
Well, I was
in my early thirties at the time, and I still wanted to look good – but that’s
a digression. Anyway, we got back to the
hotel room, and walked in – to find a man, dressed in black, going through our
belongings.
Your
grandfather was going to make a move to stop him, when he turned round and we
both saw the pistol he had in his hand.
That made us both stop, as I gripped your grandfather’s arm and he asked
the intruder what he was doing in our room.
Well, his
answer was polite and simple – he wanted our money and jewellery, and he wanted
time to get away. And to this end, he
reached into his pocket and tossed a ball of twine at your grandfather, telling
him he had to tie my hands and feet.
Well,
naturally he refused at first – but when the man said in that case he’d do it,
and he could not guarantee I would like what he did, I told him just to do as
the man said. The intruder told me to
lie face down on the bed, and cross my wrists behind my back, and then he told
your grandfather to tie a little loop at the end of the string, and use it to
pull my wrists together.
I am not
going to tell you I enjoyed the idea of this happening – because believe me, at
the time I did not. The twine was thin,
and I was so glad I was wearing gloves, because he made your grandfather wind
it tightly round several times, and then twice between my arms, before he then
made him pull it down and do the same thing to my ankles.
I could feel
the twine pulling my ankles together, and like my wrists I was so glad they
were covered. It was a very strange
feeling – when the intruder made him cut the twine off, and
then knot it, I could barely move my ankles, and the leather of my boots
squeaked when I did so.
Looking over
to my side, I saw him as the intruder made him lie face down next to me, and
then started to tie him up as he had made your grandfather tie me up. We talked to each other, reassured each other
we would be all right, even as he removed our watches and my rings and
earrings.
Then he told
me to lift my head up, and I felt the sticking plaster pull on my mouth and
chin as he pressed it firmly over my lips.
He did the same to your grandfather, before he picked up a bag with our
things in it, and left the room.
We both lay
there for a few minutes, before your grandfather started trying to pull the
twine and break it. Well, I knew he had
no chance of doing that, but I also knew with my gloves on I had no chance of
using any scissors.
So I shifted
to the side of the bed, and managed to get the room telephone to fall onto the
bed beside me. It took some doing, but
eventually I got the handset off and pressed the button that connected me to
the reception. It took a lot of muffled calls
to get them to realise something was wrong, and to send someone up.
We missed the
evening event, but at least we got through the robbery, and we were relatively
unhurt. Still, it was a frightening
situation – though not in the same league as what happened to your mother...
The Mother
When your
grandparents told me about what happened at the wedding a few years later, I
was just glad they had survived what had happened. I didn’t know that a few weeks later, I’d
face a similar situation...
I was at
Bristol University from ’72 to ’75, and this happened in the start of my second
year. I was living with a couple of
friends in a student flat, and had nipped out to pick a couple of things at the
local Spar. Hot Pants and Boots were the
fashion of the time, and I was wearing a pair of knee length white lace-up
boots with denim shorts, and a white top with elbow length sleeves.
So I went
into the shop, nodding to the older woman behind the counter as I picked up the
basket and went to where the bread was.
I heard the bell as the shop door opened and closed, but kept on
shopping until I went to the counter – and saw the red haired young man who was
pointing a sawn-off shotgun at the woman behind the counter.
Then he
turned and saw me, and told me to put my hands up. Well, I didn’t have a choice did I? I put the basket down and put my hands in the
air, while he looked round, clearly not sure what he should do next.
That’s when
he grabbed some pairs of tights from a rack, and forced us both to go into the
store room at the back of the shop. The shop assistant was shaking as we walked in, wearing a blue wrap
round coverall over a brown jumper and pants.
Once in the
back, he made us both kneel down and put our hands on our heads, the two of us
looking at each other as we heard him opening the packets of tights. He then pulled my hands behind my back, and I
felt him using one of the pairs to tie my wrists together.
I was too
scared to do anything other than let him do that, the
nylon biting into my skin before he tied the ends together, and then used a
second pair to secure my ankles.
Tights are
funny things – they make your legs look so good, but because they stretch, I
could only feel a tiny, tight knot with my fingers while the boy tied up the
shop assistant as well.
I can also
tell you they do not taste nice – because he stuffed the gusset of a third pair
into my mouth and then tied the legs tightly round my head, making me gag a
little. The poor older woman next to me
got the same treatment, before he picked up the bag he
had put the money in and ran out of the door.
He must have
locked it behind himself, because nobody else came in and out, as we struggled
to try and get free. It wasn’t until a
policeman broke the door down, after other shopkeepers had raised the alarm, that
we were discovered. I had bruises on my
wrists for weeks from the tight nylon...
Your
grandparents helped me get over what happened – but it wasn’t the last time
they had to do that. All three of us had
to do the same with your older sister...
The Older Sister
Oh, the
party? Yeah – I never told you the full
story behind that, did I?
It was a
retro night, and I was wearing a black sheer minidress
– it was sleeveless, but I had a black leotard on underneath, and a metal
necklace that had threads hanging down, starting white and becoming a dark
purple, which moved round as I did. A
pair of short white gloves was on my hands, and I had a long black and white scarf
folded in to a band and tied round my head.
I also had on
a pair of knee length white leather boots, which I felt just completed
the outfit. Well, that and the white
framed sunglasses. So off I went to the
party, and I have to say until – it happened, I was having a really good time.
But of
course, there was the incident. I had
gone to relieve myself, and was walking back to the main room when someone
grabbed me from behind, and pressed a leather gloved hand firmly over my mouth.
I was pulled
backwards and along the corridor, trying to call for help, but the hand was
pressed too tightly over my mouth, as I was pulled out into the back of the
building and round the corner to where a van was parked.
“Get out here
and give me a hand – she’s a tough one,” whoever was holding me called out, and
I heard footsteps before someone picked me up by the ankles and held my legs
while a third person used some rope to secure them together at the ankles.
I was
screaming for dear life now, as the second man then grabbed my wrists and tied
them together in front of me, before I was carried into the van. That was when a sweet smelling damp cloth was
pressed firmly down over my nose and mouth, and I slowly drifted off to
sleep...
When I
finally came to, my mouth felt as if it had been in a desert, and my arms and
legs were stiff – and what was worse, I could not move them. Once I had my senses around me, I realised my
hands were above my head, and tied to the top of the bed I was lying on, while
my ankles were tied to the foot of the bed.
My legs had also been tied together, below my knees and around my
thighs, and as I tried to call out I realised a cloth had been tied into my
mouth, keeping my tongue down and stopping me from doing more than mumble for
help.
As I looked up,
I saw my three captors, who were taking photos of me.
“There – I
think Daddy’s going to pay handsomely to get his little princess back,” one of
the said as he reached down and took my glasses off, then stared at me.
“I thought
you said the kid had blue eyes?”
“She does –
why?”
“This one has
brown eyes.”
All three of
them stared at me now, while one of them reached up to stroke his hand over my
brow – and then knocked my blonde wig off, revealing my short black hair.
“Christ above
– you stupid bloody moron, you snatched the wrong girl!”
That’s when
it hit me – someone else at the party had a similar outfit to me, and it was
her who should have been kidnapped instead of me!
I would have
laughed if I wasn’t terrified, as the would-be abductors started arguing
amongst themselves who was at fault, before they realised the other problem –
me.
“So what are
we going to do with her?”
Now I really
was terrified – which was why I was so glad when the door was kicked in, and
the police arrived. The stupid berks had
been followed...
So yes, I was
kidnapped, and yes I was afraid for my life – but I came out of it in the end,
as did Mum and Gran – and so can you. So
come on – what happened?
The Girl
I’d been
asked to wear this outfit for a promotion – a green tweed dress with a white
collar that came down to my knees, and a matching coat
over my shoulders with a large collar. I
also had to wear – yes, you guessed it – knee length white boots with black
trim, and a grey Cossack hat.
The idea was
to promote trips to Russia – and it seemed to be getting the pundits into the
travel agency at any rate. I spent most
of the day doing this, until it was starting to get dark and I went back into
the store to get changed.
Which
was when I saw the agency staff on the floor, trussed up and gagged with two
armed and masked men watching over them. One of them
pointed his gun at me, and ordered me to come over, while the second put his
gun down and produced several lengths of rope from a bag.
He started by
taking the coat off me, and then wrapping the rope around my upper arms, pulling
them tightly into my sides as it went above and below my chest. I gasped – and that was the opportunity for
the other man to shove a rag into my mouth, and then cover my lips with the
same white tape that was over the mouths of the other three women.
I felt my
arms as they were folded behind my back, and my wrists tied to my elbows,
before I was made to sit down and my ankles were crossed. It had no choice but to watch as they tied
them together, and then secured my legs above and below my knees.
Turned out
they were breaking into the pawn shop next door, and had taken over the travel
agency to let them get in. All I knew
was me and the other three women were unable to move and talk.
We were left
like that for the whole night, and we actually fell asleep – until the police
turned up to free us.
So there you
are – all of us have been through something like this before. Why did you ask?
Mister Tall smiled as he said “then
you were be able to encourage each other, reassure each other this is not as
bad as it appears. Mister Small – the
tape and scarves, if you please?”
The four women nodded as they wriggled
round, the rope squeaking as it rubbed on their boots, before one by one they
were gagged...
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