A notorious gang is on the loose and this time, they're kidnapping the affluent class. With her quick thinking, Kassidy Taylorland and her friends begin their escape. She has everything under control... or does she? Is it simply a ruse on the part o...
In silence they listened to the faint droning as the plane glided across the clear blue sky. As someone with an understanding of pathetic fallacy, Lord Taylorland felt it was all too counter-intuitive... literally out of the blue. He wondered what the elements were like back home. Hopefully not harsh enough to drain the warmth from their soft cheeks, nor muggy enough to splatter perspiration on their foreheads.
Did that mean he actually had no concept of the weather? Even when it was a popular topic for small talk? Having spent most of his time flying around the world, he had neglected the minutiae of life. The ordinary things, like the weather. Well, not exactly, as you could be in serious trouble if you didn't pay attention to the weather forecast, or warning signals in particular. He groaned, hoping there wasn't one right now.
But gosh. When was the last time he put down his work and spent time with his family? It seemed like each non-school day was having them dropped off as if they were pre-schoolers. They were teenagers. What they deserved was the freedom to explore the world in person, rather than burying their heads in thick, yellowish books or staying shut up in the good-for-nothing café bar. Yes, good-for-nothing. It wasn't simply losing his bloodline, the successors to his company, or inheritors of acres of land.
"How did my wife cope with the news?" Knowing she was subject to emotional swings, he prayed that she wasn't too overcome with trauma.
"Quite well." With so much for his master to worry about, it was best not to bring up the truth.
***
In fact, Lady Taylorland was still in a state of hysteria. With all her object-throwing much like a three-year-old's tantrum, the servants had retired near the door, flinching as she hurled yet another antique. Hitting the floor with a thud, it tinkled as it separated into jagged pieces. They rolled out across the Persian carpet and clinked with previous fragments.
"What value do these even have?"
A servant piped up recklessly, "They're antiques, so—"
"Excuse me?" The Lady shot her a cold stare and she hastily shut her mouth.
The Lady's face resembled a red-colour palette and her eyes protruded. But if you looked closely, you could see a trace of wetness brimming her eyes. Stomping around in the few uncovered spots left, she stepped on a piece of china and yelped. A lady-in-waiting scurried over to rub her foot.
Lady Taylorland kicked her foot away and plopped down onto an armchair, allowing despondency to fully weigh down on it. She wrung her hands, staring at an invisible speck of ash in the hearth. Her heart was like a fireplace, filled with heat but also cold ash. A fireplace filled with unseeable heat; you could feel it, but your fingers couldn't grasp hold of it. She felt the presence of Kassidy and George inside her, but she couldn't see them or hold them close.
She shut her prickling eyes and rested her head against the armchair wing. The velvet was as soft as a mattress and as she drifted off into subconsciousness, she wondered if this was all just a dream. Moving her feet she confirmed the cut was legit, and when she opened her eyes she saw that the shattered pieces were still there.
Everything was real. The kidnapping was real.
Which was all down to...
"Put me through to the person accountable."
An assistant handed her a telephone connected to the company's number.
"May I ask whether this is the company of the café bar in ——?" she asked, naming her town.
"Yes, madam," came a male elderly voice. "If this is about the kidnapping, we (and especially I) offer our deepest apologies. There must've been internal bribing as there's no way they could have got past the lasers to the security room."
"I have no interest in your substandard security system. Your place is the only public social facility we trust with our children. Turns out? You can't even look after your customers well."
"We take full responsibility for this. We have contacted the police who are now after the kidnappers. Madam, please rest assured that there won't be a next time."
She almost snorted. "You'd better stand by that."
Ending the call, she rang up Lady Valania-Smithbrook straight away. "Harriet dear, have you heard what happened?"
"Oh Lillian dear! It's so awfully nice to talk to you again, after all the hassle of installing fibre-to-the-home. The large-scale renovation took such a raft of time, and we couldn't do anything but jet off to one of our holiday homes in Spain. I have to say the thermal pools and champagnes compensate for the temporary loss of our main dwelling. Lillian, you must come with us sometime and get a bit of tan on that fair skin of yours. Go outdoors and bask more in the healthy sunshine! It makes a huge difference, you know, the other day I was—"
"Harriet, I'm afraid I have to interrupt you there—"
"Hang on, my butler has a message for me," she counter-interrupted. The phone was put down onto a table and there was muffled talking. A while later she came back, "Sorry, what did you want to say?"
"Our children have been kidnapped." Lady Taylorland waited for the message to sink in, structuring mentally her reply to a dramatic reaction.
But all she got was, "So?"
"Ah?" she stammered, confused. Perhaps Harriet hadn't heard her properly. "I said they've been kidnapped."
"I heard you the first time. There's nothing to worry about. My people are already working with GPS trackers to locate my daughter."
Harriet took it all too well...
"There are places without GPS signals, though."
"That won't happen. Those criminals can't have gone anywhere too far so they're probably still in this district." Lady Valania-Smithbrook chuckled lightly.
She chuckled, at a time like this?
"Our estate will be inherited by a nephew anyway," she continued. "No matter how hard I try, God just won't give me a boy."
Lady Taylorland wasn't certain if she had really tried, considering she had only given birth to one child.
"So do you think it's perfectly fine to display no emotions whatsoever when your children's lives are at stake?" She could no longer contain herself.
"Lillian, you really have to stop fretting and do something concrete for a change. I have acquired a certain degree of knowledge in GPS monitoring and I do know how it can help me in this."
Her mouth fell open, and it wasn't until a moment later that she made a half-hearted reply, "Good luck then." After the call was ended she was still a bit numb. Her friend had made some rather... unique points. Should she follow suit and get hold of some GPS trackers too?
She decided she would wait for her husband to come back before taking any action.
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A/N:
Trying to make myself write more, and this is the longest chapter so far (yay?). Next up we'll be mourning Kassidy and George's deaths.
Don't take my word for it on April Fool's Day.
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