Jay is Respectful (MF/fFM)
Posted: Wed Apr 24, 2019 2:40 pm
“In what way,” Yvonne said as she sipped her wine.
“Because we need to be very respectful,” Mark said as he handed Yvonne a photo, showing a woman in her early forties standing with two girls and their father. The woman and girls were modestly dressed, the older girl like her mother with a scarf wrapped around her head and neck.
“Muslim?”
“Indeed – the father, Nadeem, is an accountant with a large city firm, and they live in Croydon. His wife is Shamilla, and then there is fifteen year old Aliya and ten year old Layla.”
“So we must show all due respect?”
“Indeed – we need to move in before lunch, but allow the family to observe prayer times where necessary. Babysitter?”
“Jennifer can watch the kids for the night…”
“Layla, have you finished your homework?”
“Yes Mama,” Shamilla heard her daughter reply as she stood at the foot of the stairs.
“Very well then, you may watch television once you have tidied your room,” she replied as she walked to the kitchen. She was wearing a long sleeved black top under a grey sleeveless dress, which almost came to the ground with a fringe near the bottom, and black shoes. A long grey scarf covered her head and neck, the ends hanging down behind her.
Pouring a glass of water, she sat at the kitchen table and hummed to herself as she read the paper – then looked up with a start as the rear door opened, and three men and one woman walked in. They were dressed identically – blue boiler suits, black gloves over their hands, and black balaclavas covering their heads so that only their eyes and lips could be seen. Shamilla stared at them, and then at the woman – who had a black scarf tied as a hijab over her covered head and neck.
“Good morning,” one of the men said with a soft Geordie accent, “my name is Jay Edwards. Perhaps you have heard of me?”
“Oh no,” Shamilla whispered quietly, “no, please not us…”
“Remain calm,” Jay said a she sat next to her and took her hand. “I assure you, no harm is going to become any of your family. We need your husband to do something for us later, but we will take every step to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. Now, who is home currently?”
“Oh no – Layla…”
“Mrs McPhee, would you kindly go and make sure Layla understand what is going to happen, then secure her and bring her down? You check the alarms and so on. As for you, Shamilla, put your hands together in front of you…”
Mrs McPhee quietly opened the door of the bedroom and looked in to see the ten year old putting some things into a wardrobe. Layla had long brown hair, with a white butterfly pin in it, and was dressed in a similar way to her mother – the long sleeved black top under a sleeveless grey dress, her one with a wrap effect top, and black trainers.
“Hello Layla,” she said in her soft Scottish accent, the young girl turning round and looking at the masked woman as she closed the door.
“Who… who are you? Where is my mother?”
“Well, she’s wi my freends, but ah wanted tae talk to ye first.”
Layla put her head to her side, and said “you sound funny. Is that a hijab over your head?”
“Aye – mah name is Mrs McPhee, and my friend Jay needs to hae a wee word wi yer daddy. So we’re gonna be spending the day here, and ah’m afraid it means ye and yer mammy will not be able to move or talk fer a while.”
Layla looked at the masked woman, and said “you’re bad people? Robbers?”
“Aye – but ah dinnae scare ye, dae I?”
Layla shook her head as Mrs McPhee put the bag she had carried in on the bed, and then took out a length of white cord. “Now, this is what ah’m gonna use tae make sure ye cannae move unless you need tae. When ah’m done, if ye need the toilet, ye make a noise and nod yer head.”
“Why can’t I just ask?”
“Guid question – ah’ll show ye why later. Richt noo, can ye put yer hands together in prayer?”
Layla nodded as she did that, watching as Mrs McPhee tied her wrists together with the white cord, wrapping it around both arms before she pulled the ends between her wrists and tied the ends off. “There – does that hurt?”
Layla twisted her wrists round and shook her head as Mrs McPhee said “guid – sit on the bed.” The young girl did so, and watched as the masked woman knelt down and tied her ankles together with another length of cord, then tied a third length around her legs above her knees, trapping her skirt around them as she did so.
“Ah’m gonna take ye tae yer mammy soon – but before I do, ah need tae make sure yeh cannae speak easily. Can ye put yer lips together fer me?” As Layla did so, Mrs McPhee tore a strip of white tape from a roll, and then pressed it gently over the young girl’s mouth, watching as Layla said “Hnhhhchntthlk.”
“Tha’s the idea – and ye’re no scared, are ye?”
The young girl shook her head as the masked woman lifted her gently up, and carried her in her arms out of the room.
“Hllhhmhhmh,” Layla said as Shamilla watched the masked woman carry her daughter in, and then lay her on the couch, putting a cushion under her head as she lay there, before tying her wrists to the band of rope around her legs.
“Are you all right, my child,” she said quietly as she sat forward, her bound wrists resting on her lap. Layla nodded as Mrs McPhee turned the television on, and Jay glanced at the clock.
“I see it is nearly noon – where do you usually go to pray?”
“My room – you will allow me to do this?”
“Of course – but remember, Layla is here with Mrs McPhee. Once you have done that, perhaps you can prepare some lunch for both of you?”
“Would you like that,” Shamilla said as she looked over, Layla nodding as Jay helped her to stand, and they left the room, the mother wondering what would happen when the visitor she was expecting called…