Kidnapped! Coffee Break Tale
And just before my wedding, too! Could there be a worse time?
I’m 99% certain I’ve just been kidnapped. They’re very nice, the kidnappers. Polite. Well-spoken. Two guys by the sounds of their voices, and they couldn’t have been more apologetic about having to blindfold me.
“I’ll try my best not to mess up your eye make-up,” I heard a man’s voice say.
“Be grateful we’re not putting a bag over your head,” said the other. “Imagine the state your hair would be in!”
“But why would anyone want to kidnap me?” I asked, hugely distressed. “I haven’t got any money! If you want to ransom me, you’re wasting your time!”
“Just sit back and relax,” one of them said as the car engine started. “And if you fancy a bottle of water just let us know.”
This, I thought, sitting into the back seat of the car with a blindfold on, really couldn’t have come at a worse time. I’m getting married in three months and you should see the “to do” lists that I’ve yet to work my way through.
That’s how the kidnapping came about in the first place. I was just leaving the salon where I work to get to the printers to collect wedding invitations, because they all have to go out this week. You have to give your guests plenty of notice, my mum says.
Anyway, there I was, strolling down a busy street, minding my own business, with a Spotify playlist blasting in my ears as I tried to decide on my final wedding playlist. I was miles away and in a world of my own, debating the merits of ThereMayBeTroubleAhead by Nat King Cole for our first dance, versus AllThe SingleLadies, by Beyonce, when next thing two guys wearing Donald Duck masks sprang out of a car parked on the kerb and – very gently, mind you – lifted me into the back seat.
I screamed my head off, but the weird thing was no one stopped to help me.
“Nothing to be upset about!” one of the kidnappers said to me. “Honestly, love, we wouldn’t dream of hurting you. We’re just going for a little drive, that’s all.” So now here we are, a good half-hour into the journey and I still have no clue who’s taken me or why.
I think of Jack, my lovely fiancé. How he’s expecting me home this evening and how worried he’s going to be when I’m a no-show. I think of Mum – if anything bad were to happen to me, the chances are good she’ll wring the kidnappers’ necks with her bare hands! She’s been dieting for a year to fit into her mother-of-the-bride outfit and it’ll take more than a minor case of kidnapping to stop her in her tracks.
Then a very weird thing happens. The car pulls over and stops abruptly.
“Here we are, love,” one of the kidnappers says to me. “We’re going to let you out of the car now.”
“Where the heck am I?” I ask, as one of the men gets into the back seat beside me, unties my blindfold and unlocks my handcuffs – which I now see are actually lined with bright pink marabou feathers!
I look out the car window and realise we’re at the Four Seasons hotel, the super-swanky one with a health spa that there’s an actual waiting list to get into. There’s a gaggle of ladies waiting outside – and I know every single one of them.
Mum is there, waving like mad and my two best friends and bridesmaids are beside her, yelling, “Surprise!” All the girls from the salon are here, too, cheering and laughing as I get out of the car, still trying to piece together what’s happening.
“Welcome to your hen party!” Mum says, coming forward to hug me tight.
“Sorry about the kidnapping,” Jayne, my chief bridesmaid, laughs. “It was the only way to keep it a total surprise!”
The kidnappers take their Donald Duck masks off – it’s Jayne’s boyfriend and his best friend, laughing and joining in the fun. “Ready to start your hen party?” “Wow,” I laugh out loud. “You’re the best hens a bride could ever ask for!”