Helena Laverre and her daughter Daphne were going on a short holiday trip overseas. They were planning to leave their comfortable home in the western suburbs, drive for an hour to the International Airport to catch their flight.
Helena was forty five, solidly built but still reasonably fit, her figure ever so slightly fleshing a little. She had a well rounded face with short wavy brown hair. Her background was international finance, a business she worked in with her husband. She was a forceful woman with people around her.
Her daughter Daphne by contrast was a slight girl, almost to the point of thinness. She was eighteen, a narrow but pleasant face, straight dark hair with large eyes, quiet and studious by nature. She had just finished her last days at secondary school. Unfortunately she and her mother had not got on well for months now. The girl had lost her virginity almost a year ago under unpleasant and unhappy circumstances. Helena had found out about this at the time. Relations between the two had been strained ever since and the parent at least was hoping this short vacation together might improve the situation.
Another issue between them was what Daphne was to do now that she had finished her final school exams. She wanted to go to university. What to do from there she was not sure but was thinking vaguely of archeology or some historical discipline. Her mother rejected this. Her proposal was a couple of years at some obscenely expensive ladies' finishing school. And after that to marry well. The pair were not seeing eye to eye at all.
The morning had been spent packing for the journey and by the afternoon the pair were ready to depart for the airport.
The family lived in an expensive home in an area of similar upper class residences in an exclusive suburb known simply as The Heights. As befitted people who were doing very nicely in the world of finance. The house and grounds were large and needed a staff to maintain it. They were there to see mother and daughter off.
But not all of these were the loyal servants their employers thought they were. As they drove away one of the maids made a discreet phone call to people who were interested indeed in this proposed journey.
Daphne was driving. The journey was not overlong, the route not difficult and it was felt she would gain useful driving experience.
The way they were travelling, after leaving The Heights, was a long, straight well paved road through an area where nobody lived. Here and there were large stands of dense timber and that was all. Many miles ahead lay the junction with the main road which led directly to the airport. It was very infrequently used. Helena was not at ease here.
A few miles out they saw an unmarked grey van parked on the edge of the paved roadway directly ahead of them. No one was in sight. Daphne slowed down.
“Don’t stop,” Helena was firm. “No one lives out here. Anything could happen and nobody'd see it. Drive past.”
At the last moment a young woman walked out from the front of the van. She looked about thirty, had untidy brown hair and a smile on her face. She wore a skivvy with rolled up sleeves, a short woollen skirt and of all things - she was carrying a bucket. She stopped in the middle of the carriageway, directly in front of them.
Daphne stopped the car. She had to, otherwise she’d have run the woman down.
Helena spoke, “The doors of the car are locked. The windows are up. Don’t open them.” The woman walked around to the side of the car and stood directly outside the driver’s side window. She still had a smile on her face but both of the car occupants noticed it looked vacant. As if she were feeble minded. Her lips started to move but no sound could be heard.
“I can’t hear her,” said Daphne and despite what her mother had said, she lowered the window a couple of inches. Still nothing could be heard though they could see her mouth opening and closing. The vacant smile became more so, increasing the suspicion of feeblemindedness.
Exasperated, Daphne lowered the window still more, determined to find out what she wanted. When it was far enough down the woman suddenly thrust her arm into the car and reached across in front of her. She seized the car keys in the ignition, switched it off and removed them. The engine died. Within seconds the vehicle had been rendered immobile. This, it seemed, was what Helena had been fearful of all the time.
Things began to happen quickly then.
Three women ran out from behind the van to the car. All three were wearing unmarked dark green boiler suits and visored caps pulled down low. One was solid, well built and appeared to be in command. They looked like contract workers except that all were wearing grey surgical face masks which completely hid their faces.
The lady in charge and one of the trio hurried to the passenger side where Helena was. The remaining boiler suit ran to the other side where the smiling woman was standing. She was now manipulating the electronic door locking attachment on the purloined car keys. Both front door locks clicked off. The cars occupants were becoming more vulnerable by the minute.
The two pairs of attackers flung open the now unlocked car doors. They reached inside and undid the travellers' seat belts. This done, they bent over both mother and daughter and proceeded to lift them bodily out of the car.
This was relatively easy with Daphne who was a small slight person but more difficult with Helena who was both solid and heavy. But the woman in charge was very strong and she and her companion lifted her from her seat and onto the paved road. The pair were too surprised to struggle much, Daphne at least.
Then at this point Helena began to scream, “Help, help. We’re being attacked. Help!” This could be heard for some distance and in a populated area would have brought people from all directions. But here there was no one. There was not even any traffic on the road.
Helena was stood upright. The second woman got behind her and pinioned her arms. The big woman slapped her face to stop her cries. “Hush Helena! You’re too noisy, and there’s no one to hear you anyway.” And to the others, “Quick, get them both round to the other side of the van.” Both mother and daughter, their arms firmly held, were forcibly marched around to the far side of the vehicle.
The smiling woman, now deadly serious, did not take part in this. Her boiler suited companion was able to handle the slim Daphne. She closed the passenger side door, picked up the bucket she had carried originally, put it in the car, got in herself and, using the keys, started the vehicle and drove it off the road. She parked it beside a grove of trees a few yards in front of the van.
She got out and, taking her bucket, went back to the group on the off side of the van.
Meanwhile, the three uniformed women had made Helena and Daphne stand facing the side of the vehicle. The pair had their faces inches from the grey finish.
Both mother and daughter had dressed for their journey. Sensible travel shoes, comfortable slacks. Helena wore a thin, belted leather coat, Daphne a tight fitting nylon rain jacket. Their captors seemed to approve of this. The bucket was placed beside them.
This contained many pieces of very thick, soft white rope. The three boiler suits took these and began to bind their captives. The fourth woman positioned herself on the road side of the van. She was ready to wave on any driver who might slow down and offer to help. They wanted nobody to see what was happening behind it.
Helena and Daphne had their wrists crossed behind their backs and tied with the white rope. Next their arms were lashed to their sides and further secured by cinches under their armpits. "Turn them around,” ordered the boss lady. The bucket provided two damp wad gags and sashes to hold them in place. “Sorry girls, but it’s necessary to gag you as well.”
Neither mother nor daughter looked pleased as the wadded gags were forced into their mouths and kept in place by the sashes tied around their heads. “And now ladies, if you’ll just step to the rear of the vehicle.” The pair were steered to the back door of the van which the fourth woman had come round to and was now holding open.
The lady in charge got into the van and then, assisted by the other two, lifted the captive pair inside, one after the other. She was indeed a strong woman.
The interior was roomier than might have been expected. A padded bench seat ran along one side. Mother and daughter were made to sit on this some distance apart. The two other women climbed in and bound the pair’s thighs and ankles with the last of the white rope. Finally, canvas straps were used to secure the two to supports on the van’s sides underneath the padded back rest. The big woman got out while this was being done and watched through the doorway. She removed her face mask.
“Well ladies,” she smiled when the passengers were secure, “Ready for your journey? Not quite as comfortable as your last transport but it’ll be adequate.” Helena and Daphne glared over their gags. She looked at the two boiler suited women, “You two can travel in the front, I’ll ride in the back with our two guests to make sure they’re OK.” The pair nodded and got out of the van.
“And you,” she turned and spoke to the fourth woman, ”Can drive their car. No need to travel in convoy. Go at your own pace. Just get there in one piece. Remember you’re transporting our friends’ luggage.” She looked around and smiled at the bound pair and was again rewarded with glares.
Without any further ado the boss lady climbed back into the van and seated herself on the bench between the captives. The back door was closed and within minutes both vehicles were driven away. The whole incident had taken about twenty minutes from the moment the Laverre car had stopped.
The journey was to last two or three hours.
After the first hour their captor spoke. “You ladies’d be more comfortable if I took the gags out of your mouths, wouldn’t you? I’ll do this if you won’t make any fuss. We’re on a little used highway now anyway. Do you agree?” Both mother and daughter nodded. She removed the wads and placed them in a handy place on the seat.
“And perhaps you’d like a drink?” Again, nodded approval. The woman produced a bottle of spring water and held it to their mouths. They sipped thankfully. Afterwards she wiped their lips with a clean cloth. Both indicated their approval.
Helena spoke first. “You realise we’re expected at the airport? It’ll be noticed when we don’t arrive?”
“The airline has been told of a last minute cancellation of your trip. They’re so sorry you won’t be travelling with them. And as for your husband, whom you were supposed to be calling from there. Well, some of our people are at your house now and they’ll have taken him in hand. Your cook and housekeeper will already be tightly bound and gagged.”
Mother and daughter stared silently and glumly. Daphne because she had little idea of what was really going on. She wondered how this was going to affect her personally. She was far from happy these days. Helena speculated darkly on which of their business rivals were behind this.
There was only sporadic conversation for the rest of the trip.
Finally the van reached its destination. It travelled slowly for some minutes and finally stopped. The passengers heard the front doors open and close. The rear door opened. One of the boiler suits helped the lady in charge unbind their legs and ankles. Then they were helped up and lifted out of the van.
They were in a large garage area, many yards long. It had brick walls, a smooth concrete floor and some vehicles parked along one side. There appeared to be a workshop area at one end. Two women were waiting to meet them.
These two were wearing grey green, belted uniforms. Both were in their thirties or forties, looked capable and competent and were smiling. One held a clipboard and paper.
“So these are our new guests,” this lady said, "Well then, for a start they’d better be blindfolded.” Helena and Daphne were already staring curiously at their new surroundings. “Then we can take them to their accommodation.”
The bucket which had come in the van with them was brought out. Two thick sashes were produced and tied firmly over the eyes of mother and daughter. Their arms still bound, they were firmly led away, along what seemed to be long corridors. They heard a door close behind them.
The sashes were removed. They were in a room about nine yards long and four wide. This place, like the garage, had a concrete floor and brick walls. Two steel framed cot beds, neatly made up, were in the middle. At one end was a washbasin, mirror and cupboard with a curtained shower recess on one side and a wooden door, presumably a toilet, on the other. At the other was a small table with two chairs. Everything was neat, tidy and scrupulously clean.
The woman with the clipboard, her companion, and the lady in charge from the van had come with them. “Well girls,” this first said cheerfully, “These are your quarters for the duration of your stay with us. You’ll find the beds soft, the blankets warm and everything quiet. We trust you’ll be comfortable.”
The woman from the van spoke. “But first we need to take some photographs. And a little window dressing is necessary. Would you both sit down there please?” She pointed to one of the beds. Mother and daughter, arms still tied, were forcibly seated, the bucket of restraints was produced and their legs and ankles were rebound. “It’s also necessary to gag you again. Purely for pictorial purposes,” she explained, “We’ll take everything off once we’ve got you on record.”
The captives both grimaced as the wad gags were put into their mouths again. It was obviously going to be a posed photograph. The two were pushed against each other and their hair was deliberately tousled. The boss lady produced a mobile phone that could take pictures. “For the benefit of the man of the family to ensure his co-operation,” she told them, “So he can see we really have taken his womenfolk captive. Just look worried and unhappy.” There was no need for this admonition. Both were unhappy. The picture was taken.
This done, the pair were finally unbound and their three captors prepared to leave. The clipboard lady spoke, “We’ll leave you ladies now. You’ll get a meal in about an hour. As mentioned, the bedding is OK,” she nodded toward the shower, “You’ll find the water hot, soap in the holder and towels on the washbasin.” She smiled, “All mod cons. Enjoy your stay.” They went out, locking the door behind them.
Mother and daughter faced each other. Daphne spoke, “Mum. Who are these people? Where are we?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I suspect they’re working with an overseas cartel. I warned your father about getting involved with some of these Middle Eastern interests. And as to where we are, somewhere in the western mountains, I’d say.”
Daphne looked around. “Well at least it's clean and comfortable. We’re not in an abandoned warehouse or a dilapidated hut.”
Helena smiled for the first time in many hours, “We can be thankful for small mercies.”
Almost an hour later they saw daylight fading through a barred horizontal window high on a side wall.
The door opened and an African girl wearing what seemed to be the standard green uniform came in. She was carrying a tray containing two covered hot meals, cutlery, cups and a pot of tea which she put down on the table at the end of the room. “Dinner, ladies,” she smiled as she left the room. The door was locked behind her.
Since they hadn’t eaten since midday they sat and ate quickly. It was well cooked and adequate. About half an hour later the same girl came to pick up the tray.
Daphne said, “I’m going to try out their shower and see if the water’s as hot as they say.” Fifteen minutes later she was able to report that it was.
They went to bed in their underwear having no night attire. As promised, they found the beds comfortable and both slept soundly.
They woke early, dressed and found combs, brushes and face washers in the wash basin cupboard with which to perform their toilette. They had left their leather coat and rain jacket on coat hangers on pegs on the wall. Shortly after the African girl brought in a breakfast tray. “Good morning. Hope you slept well,” she smiled as she went out. Helena wondered if she was an illegal immigrant.
Breakfast finished, they were sitting on the beds when they had further visitors. Three of them.
One was the lady from the van. This time wearing a white, belted dress, so well fitting it might have been tailored. She looked like a hospital matron. It suited her. The other two were the pair they had met in the garage on their arrival. Both wore the ubiquitous grey green uniform they all seemed to wear here. Helena noticed these were well made and of good quality. One of the two was pushing a wheelchair.
“Good morning girls,” the first said brightly, “I hope you got a good night’s sleep.” Mother and daughter both looked cautiously at her. “Today, our business is with you Helena. Some of our people would like a little talk with you.”
Bristling, Helena stood up. “I’m not going to discuss anything with any of you. And when are you going to release us? You can’t keep us here forever, you know.”
“Quite so,” replied the lady, still cheerful, “Thought you might feel like this. And so we came prepared.” One of two who had come with her, obviously the stronger, had moved to Helena’s side.
Suddenly, this woman stepped behind her, seized her by the upper arms and held her firmly. “Let go of me,” shrilled Helena, who could not break free. She began to kick.
Meanwhile the other green clad lady had produced a white cloth and a wide necked bottle from a box under the wheelchair seat. She saturated this with the contents of the container and, standing to one side to avoid her flailing feet, thrust it fully into Helena’s face, forcing her to inhale the fumes.
“Hospital grade anaesthetic,” explained the still smiling boss lady, “The best and very effective. Just breathe it in, Helena dear and soon you’ll be in dreamland.” And breathe it in was all the helpless Helena could do. She began to lose consciousness.
Finally, she passed out. The cloth was held to her face a little longer and then she was gently lowered into the wheelchair which had been pushed up behind her. A strap attached to the chair back was secured around her waist to stop her falling out.
“Quickly. Take her to the main room. She can revive in there.” Without further ado Helena was pushed out of the room.
Throughout this the white clad woman had been standing beside the seated Daphne, one hand on her shoulder. She turned, “It was unfortunate we had to do that. But we had no choice. I can assure you that your mother will not be physically harmed in any way.”
She stepped back and looked down at the girl. “Well Daphne, they’ll need her for about four hours perhaps. But then she’ll be returned as good as new. You needn't worry about her at all.”
Daphne spoke for the first time. “My mother’s very strong willed. She won’t give out anything she doesn’t want to.”
The woman spoke understandingly. “They’ll use truth drugs. Don’t worry, they're very safe and won’t have any ill effects whatsoever.” And to change the subject she said “You’re of a literary turn of mind, aren’t you? And you've an interest in archeology I believe?”
Daphne gaped. How could she know this?
She smiled, ”One of our people here has studied archeology. Perhaps you’ll meet him.” She turned and pointed to a one shelf bookcase in the corner. It contained a few books and a stack of magazines. “There’s some historical material there and a few books you might find interesting. Strictly speaking, not archeological, but related.”
She stood up, “I must go. Keep yourself busy if you can. I’ll try to drop in later in the morning.” She left the room.
Daphne sat and thought about what the woman had said. She looked at the bookcase and finally went over. She was surprised to find that every magazine dealt with history and the books were all of a philosophical nature.
When she and her mother were abducted she had assumed they would be held captive in some criminal hangout. It was becoming less and less like that the longer they stayed here. Just who are these people? She wondered. She selected several periodicals and a book and then sat at the table to read them.
Over an hour went by, She became engrossed in her reading. The door opened and the white clad lady came in. She pulled out the other chair and sat down at the table with her. She smiled.
“I’ve just come from where they’re talking with your mother,” she said.
“I’ve told you,” said her daughter, “She won’t tell you anything she doesn’t want to.”
“No doubt. But they're using a very sophisticated truth drug. One developed by the CIA, so it’s bound to be good,” she smiled and went on, ”One of its peculiarities is that under its effect the subject will give out detailed information about things they haven’t even been asked. Usually things that they feel strongly about or are worrying them. Your mother has been doing that.”
“Almost all of it's about you,’ she confided, “I tell you this because I feel it's in your interest to know.” Daphne looked at her intently.
“For instance, she’s gone on repeatedly about your desire to go to university, perhaps to study archeology. Rather than that snooty, overpriced finishing school, she wants you to attend.”
She smiled, “Personally I don’t blame you one little bit. It’s what I’d want to do myself. Perhaps not to study archeology but university would be the making of you. Any girl who has the desire, and the capacity for tertiary education should do it.”
Daphne stared. Her feelings were changing by the minute. She was warming to this friendly appearing woman.
“And the other issue she keeps going on about,” she continued softly. “That ball you went to a year back with that young man. Aubrey was his name, wasn’t it? Where he deflowered you in an unseemly and totally unsatisfactory manner.”
Daphne broke down, tears began to flow down her cheeks. She had never spoken of this episode to anybody. Even to her mother, despite many badgering, bullying attempts to get details out of her. This woman was patient and seemed understanding in a way her mother had never been since the event. And the girl was convinced that, whatever she told her, this lady would never be condemnatory. Added to that, in a few days, or hours even, when these people got their ransom or whatever they wanted, she’d go out of her life forever, never to be seen again. The floodgates broke. She began to tell the story she had never told to anyone.
“I didn’t want to go to that ball at all. It was Mum’s idea. She picked him as an escort. Said he came from a very good family. He was hopelessly callow. He couldn’t even dance properly. Once there he started to drink. On the way home he used language I didn’t like, and it turned out he wanted the evening to culminate in lovemaking. I should've said no. We attempted it in the back seat of his car not far from my home. He was inexperienced, clumsy, bungling and still partly drunk. It was a bloody disaster. And it ended with my mother standing outside, pounding on the car window. She’d seen us drive up and park. It was the most horrible night of my life.” All the time she wept.
"I haven’t been out with a boy since that time. I couldn’t face it. Mum has tried to organise dates for me. They’re all from the same class. Replicas of that bloody Aubrey. I just don’t know what to do.”
“You poor child.” The woman in white put her hand over Daphne’s forearm on the table top. “That night should never have happened.” The girl continued sobbing.
The woman pulled her chair closer and put her arm around the distraught young woman’s shoulder. At the same time she noted the opened academic magazine on the table. “All this is an unpleasant affair that happened in the past. Let’s look ahead to the future.” She took a new approach. “You've finished secondary school and did very well. Last month wouldn’t it’ve been?” The tearful Daphne nodded. She stopped crying.
“Well then, let’s look to next year. Forget about this finishing school nonsense. Central University would be where you should go. It’s the nearest to your area and is considered one of the best in the country. Their history and archeology faculty is world famous. That’d be the place for you.”
Daphne took this in silently.
The lady went on. “As I said earlier one of our people here studied archeology there for a while. He’s only a few years older than you. I’ll see if he’s available. He can talk to you, advise you on how to apply for admission. How to get into the place. And give you an idea of what it's like.” Daphne looked at her and then nodded. The woman got up and left the room, locking the door.
She was back in twenty minutes. With her was a young man in his early twenties. He was of middle height with a slim, athletic figure. His face was oval with a pointed chin and short brown straight hair. He wore glasses, looked academic and had a pleasant look about him. His clothing was casual.
Leading him to the seated Daphne the woman wasted no time. “Daphne, this is Larry. Larry, Daphne, a guest you may have heard something of. She wants to know about Central Uni, how to get into it and something of their courses.”
The young man smiled, bowed his head and said “Hello Daphne. Perhaps I can help.” He pointed to a spot on the bed about two feet from the seated girl, “Do you mind if I sit there?” She nodded. The older woman sat on the other bed about six feet away.
Larry proved knowledgeable about university procedures. He spoke clearly, descriptively and was able to give Daphne the information she needed in a very short time. The girl, silent at first, began to converse and ask questions. The woman in white guided the conversation for a while but then left the young people to it. One thing became clear, if the girl wanted to go to university next year she’d have to start making arrangements very soon.
The talk moved on from getting started in tertiary studies and centred on university life in general. Daphne was interested in this and asked many questions. The dialogue became freer, lighter and punctuated with laughter as they got on to the social side. The older woman, realising the conversation had served its purpose got up and walked over to the corner bookcase and began to sort the books and magazines. The exchange on the bed sounded as if it was getting more lighthearted and friendly by the minute.
After a while she noticed the two had stopped talking and that Larry was standing beside her. She stood up.
“Excuse me Ma’am,” he began, “I hope you don’t mind, but could we have some privacy please?” The woman looked at him, then at Daphne who was staring back at her appealingly. She hoped what she was about to say was the right thing.
“Well Larry,” she began. “I personally know you to be a responsible person. I have also heard you are kindly, gentle and somewhat skilled in other fields too. You are also aware of this young lady’s situation. And so I am trusting you to behave responsibly and in a manner entirely appropriate to her particular needs.” She paused, looking closely at him, “I take it you know what I mean?”
Larry bowed his head, “Yes Ma’am.”
“Very well then,” she said, “Mrs Laverre won’t be back from the main room for at least two hours. That should be time enough for you two young people. I’ll come back just before that to make sure everything is in order. She smiled, “Best of luck, children.” And left the room. The door locked behind her.
The young twosome stood and faced each other. “You will be gentle?” she whispered, “You know how things went last time?"
He nodded, “I wouldn’t be anything else. That episode should never have happened.” They embraced.
One and three quarters of an hour later there was a discreet knock at the door and the lady in white re entered. There had been changes. The room had been tidied, both beds had been neatly made and the young pair were seated at the end table. Daphne was folding some recently written notes. “A few details of university entry application,” she explained, matter of factly.
The woman looked at her closely. Earlier this afternoon she had seen a frightened, unhappy, tormented girl. Here was a composed, serene woman. Self assured, competently thinking ahead and, it seemed, content. Surely, something good had happened?
“Indeed? Well that sounds useful. But now I must tell you young people that Mrs Laverre, your mother, will be back here in about ten minutes. And that you, Larry, will have to be gone before she does.” Larry stood up and looked around but there was nothing to gather up. He had brought nothing with him other than the pen Daphne had used to write out the notes on a pad from the bookcase. She handed it back to him. “Thank you,” she smiled. He nodded.
“Time for us both to be gone,” the visitor said and turned and walked to the door. Daphne stood and exchanged a quick kiss with Larry before he moved after her. The lady in white turned at the door. “And if I don’t see you before you go Daphne, all the best of luck for the future.” They left.
Daphne looked around, but there was nothing to indicate what had happened in the room in the last two hours. Even her towel had been rubbed clean. She tucked the notes she had made inside her blouse and then got a couple of books and some magazines out and put them on the table. To all appearances she had spent the morning reading.
Within minutes Helena arrived. She had left in a wheelchair and she was returned in one. The first time she had been unconscious. This time she was awake, securely tied to the metal frame of the chair and heavily blindfolded. The two grey green women were in attendance, one pushing the chair.
Her bonds and blindfold were removed and placed in a box under the seat of the chair. Helena herself was lifted upright, facing her captors. “Thank you for your cooperation Madame,” one of them said ironically as they pushed the chair out. The door locked behind them. The returned captive glared after them.
Daphne was seated at the table, her literature strewn in front of her. Helena strode over. “Swine,” she said, “They drugged me. Alright, they got a bit out of me. And some of our money as well. But not as much as they could have. And I got some useful information out of them. Just from the questions they asked.” She went on, “Back home they’ve been talking to your father as well. Threatening him by saying they’d sell us both to white slavers if he didn’t cooperate. That was a joke.” She concluded, “This is largely his fault. I told him not to get involved with those Middle Eastern characters. They’re ruthless.”
“Mum,” Daphne spoke, "What’re they going to do now?”
“Quite simple. They’re finished with me and that means we can both go home. They’ll give us another good meal out of that excellent kitchen they have here. Then, I’m told, we’ll both be bound, gagged, probably blindfolded, placed in the back seat of our own car and driven back to The Heights. Dad’s already there. Probably drugged. When he wakes up he’ll untie us. Then we’ll all be together again, sadder, certainly wiser and somewhat poorer.” Helena sounded both optimistic and little concerned. Daphne was quite surprised.
“One thing’s for sure. We won't be dealing with certain dubious international figures after this.”
“And you Madam,” turning to her daughter. “While I was in there under their wretched truth drugs, a lot of the conversation seemed to centre on you. OK, OK. It was something to do with that drug they were using. But about your likely future in the next couple of years. That woman in white was there part of the time. She’s one of their top people. She said it’d be a waste of your time and our money to send you to a finishing school.”
Daphne looked at her calmly but said nothing.
Helena looked back at her. Finally she smiled, "And I’ve come to the conclusion, she’s probably right. Better a trained university graduate, capable of earning her own living, than a scatterbrained airhead who knows all about social etiquette and nothing else. Wouldn’t you say? Even if the training is in a little-in-demand occupation like archeology.”
Daphne smiled in return. “Well thank you Mum. But there’s been a change in plan. It’s computer research I want to study at Uni now.”
“Excellent!” Helena was enthusiastic, “Now that is a much-in-demand occupation.” She laughed, “I know. I’ve just seen how useful and effective it can be in their bloody interrogation room there.”
"And you my dear. I see a change for the better in you in the time I’ve been away.” Helena paused, Daphne was silent. “It’s possible you’ve been dealing with one of the many experts they seem to have here. I’m not criticising. Whatever’s been done, whoever spoke to you about your future, they’ve done a better job in reaching you than I have in the last few months.”
“Well then, let’s go on from there. We’ll have to wait until this meal arrives and after that, bound and gagged and driven home in our own car. We’ll both be bondage kinks before this is over.”
Helena stood and looked at her child.. “Meanwhile, perhaps we can have a little girl talk between us. We’ve had little enough of that over the last year.”
Daphne also stood, “Oh, Mum,” she said from the bottom of her heart.
Mother and daughter embraced.