Another Fine Mess
“LUUUUCCIEEEE!
What are we going to do!”
“I don’t know
Ethel,” Lucille said as she wriggled, her friend moving as she did so. The two middle aged women were sitting back
to back on an old fashioned long seat, Lucy wearing a short sleeved black top
and a knee length grey wool skirt, while Ethel had on a sleeveless shift
dress. Both women had their legs resting
on an arm of the seat, with their ankles tied together with rope, and their
hands tied together behind their backs, while a length of rope held them
together at their waists.
“Are you watching
that old comedy again,” Maisie said as she looked in the front room, where her
daughter was watching I Love Lucy on a cable channel.
“It’s funny –
and it gets me in the mood Mum,” Ruth said quietly as she looked at the
screen. The redhead was wearing a white
mini dress with a blue china type print, the neckline plunging to show the top
of her chest, the sleeves flaring and ending at the elbows. She was also wearing a pair of knee length
white boots with a square heel, as her red hair fell over her shoulders.
Her mother
shook her head as she walked to the kitchen.
Maisie wore a black sleeveless coat dress, which came to above her
knees, and knee length black leather boots.
As she put the dishes into the dishwasher, she wondered if she was going
to be forced to spend the entire evening watching old black and white comedy
programs.
“Good evening.”
The male voice
took her by surprise, and as she turned round she saw two men standing there,
identically dressed in black leather jackets, jumpers, pants, shoes, gloves and
balaclava masks. The only difference
between the two men were the height – one was over six foot, the other the same
height as her.
“Please,” the
taller of the two said, “remain calm and quiet.
So long as you do as we say, no harm will come to you or anyone else in
the house. I am Mister Tall, my friend
Mister Small.”
Maisie stared
at both of them, before she whispered “are you – burglars?”
“I suppose we
are,” Mister Small replied, “so we need to take steps to make sure you – and
anyone else here – cannot raise the alarm.”
“Oh my…”
“So,” Mister
Tall said as he took from a bag he was holding a length of rope, “kindly turn
round, and cross your wrists behind your back…”
“Hey you can’t
deeetheettsss,” Lucy said as the man pulled a rolled up scarf between her lips,
and tied it round her head, Ethel complaining as she was gagged in the same
way. Ruth laughed as she said “That’s
absurd – I could get out of that…”
“Ruth?”
As she looked
round, she saw her mother – and the two masked men, one holding a gun as the
taller one said “hello Ruth – please, remain seated for now. Mister Small, would you kindly ensure the
telephone is disconnected?”
“Of course,
Mister Tall,” the second man said as Maisie sat down, her arms behind her back
as she said “I’m afraid we’re been robbed Maisie – we are going to be like
those women in the comedy program.”
“Well, that is
Hollywood at a time they could only hint at things – we like to be a little
more professional,” Mister Tall said as he removed from his rucksack another
length of rope. “So – Ruth, right? Turn your back to me, and put your hands
behind your back.”
“Oh my god,”
the young woman whispered as she moved round, Maisie watching anxiously as
Mister Tall doubled the rope over, and crossed Ruth’s wrists before he started
to secure them together. She grunted as
the rope was wound tightly around and between her arms, but was surprised at
how comfortable it was.
“I know,”
Maisie said as her daughter looked at her, “tight, but not sore, correct?”
Ruth slowly
nodded as Mister Tall knelt down, another length of rope in his hand, and
crossed Ruth’s ankles before he started to bind them together as well, taking
the rope around and between her legs as the rope squeaked on the leather.
“Oh god, I’m
going nowhere,” she whispered as Mister Small came in. “All telephones dealt with – where do you
wish me now Mister Tall?”
The taller
masked man smiled as he paused the program, Lucy and Ethel struggling together,
before he said “we should ensure both woman cannot move their arms. If you will take care of Maisie, I will
ensure the security of Ruth.”
“What do you
me… OH my,” Maisie said quietly as both
men drew long lengths of ropes from their bags, and doubled them over, before
each one stood behind one of the captives and wrapped the rope around them,
pulling the band tight below their chests as their arms were forced into their
sides.
“Why…”
“As much to
protect you as to prevent your raising the alarm,” Mister Small said as he
pulled the last band tight, and then tied them together behind her, before he
fed the ropes under one arm, up and around the back of her neck as he held her
dark hair out of the way, and under the other arm before he tied the ends off.
“TO protect
us?”
“Indeed,”
Mister Tall said as he further secured Ruth in the same way, and then passed
the rope over one shoulder, under the lower band of rope between her breasts,
and back up so that her breasts were enclosed in a rope bra. As she wriggled round, the rubbing of the
ropes made her gasp, as Mister Tall said “I suggest remaining still – Mister
Small, would you please escort Maisie on a tour of the house, and elicit her
help in selecting appropriate items?”
“It would be my
pleasure,” Mister Small said as he helped Maisie to stand up, and escorted her
out of the room while Mister Tall selected another length of rope, and knelt
down, securing Ruth’s legs together below her knees.
“You’re not how
I expected an armed home intruder to behave,” Ruth said as he legs were forced
more firmly together.
“Oh – and how
would you expect an armed home invader to behave?”
“Threats –
violence – maybe hurting us a little…”
“Ah - but that
is not behaving, that is threatening. We
are Gentlemen, we do not use threats beyond the bare minimum necessary. May I ask what you do for a living?”
“We’re
scriptwriters,” Ruth said as she wriggled round.
“Ah – anything
I may have heard of?”
“Well – we’ve worked
on… Actually, may /I ask a favour?”
“Of course – I
have no wish for you to be bored. What
is it?”
“Will you put
the television on to BBC One?”
Mister Tall
nodded as he changed the channel, and saw a title sequence appear, with the
last slide saying “The Madrigal Strikes, by Maisie and Ruth Graham.”
“Well, that is
indeed something worth of congratulations – what is the show?”
“Connell – you
know, the one based on the books by the Phillips writer.”
She was
surprised to see Mister Tall smile, as she said “Oh no – don’t tell me you’ve
visited her?”
“Let us say we
know the family,” Mister Tall said as he retrieved from the bag a long white
cloth, and a smaller square of white cotton.
“But I regret to say you must watch without been able to provide the
writer’s commentary. Please, open your
mouth as wide as you can.”
“Ruth? Are you all right?”
“Mffnnememmm,”
Ruth said, her voice muffled by the cloths in her mouth and between her lips,
her red lips over the darkening white cloth.
Nodding, Maisie was sat next to her, Mister Small taking two lengths of
rope and binding her ankles and legs, as Mister Tall walked behind her, a
folded white cloth in his gloved hand.
“So I’m to be
gagged as well?”
“Indeed –
relax, stay calm, and it will soon be more comfortable,” he said as he pushed
the folded cloth into her mouth, and then wound a white cloth twice round her head,
pulling it between her lips and then knotting the ends at the base of her neck.
As she twisted
round, Ruth nudged her and nodded to the television.
“Shhhethrrrshw?”
“Mysssmmm,” she
mumbled as Mister Small looked at Mister Tall.
“Their new
television show – we should leave them to enjoy the fruits of their labours,”
Mister Tall said as the collected the bags.
“Ladies, enjoy the rest of the evening – we will ensure help arrives in
due course. The Gentlemen Robbers bid
you adieu – may we never meet again.”
Maisie nodded
as the two men left. She had recognised
them and heard of them – a long Skype chat with Sara Phillips had told the
story. She was pleased to see their
reputation was earned – even if it meant their jewellery was the price…
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