Chapter 19

Amelia’s play was performed three times, Friday and Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoon. Kevin, Denise, and Jeremy went to all of the performances. The Porters came to the Saturday performance with their younger children and many of the university teacher ed students came to one of the shows, too. As an arts specialty school, local papers sent reviewers to cover the play, and the reviews generally agreed that the acting was excellent and Amelia’s performance was noted as being particularly impressive. “The haunting, hypnotic presence Miss Hadad imparted to the character of Emily showed a maturity in her performance far in excess of her age, elevating the play into an almost flawless achievement for this excellent performing arts school,” one reviewer gushed.

The following Monday afternoon, Amelia and Jeremy arrived back at Amelia’s flat much later than usual. Kevin and Denise were already home.

“Got your text that you’d be late,” Denise said as the entered. “What kept you?”

Jeremy sighed. “It’s tough hanging with a celebrity,” he groaned.

Amelia giggled. “The video of the play was put up on VueTube and went viral; over 10,000 views since Saturday. The head’s been getting calls all day from agents and scouts who want to talk to me. So after school he had me meet with him, Mr Davis—he’s the drama teacher—two staff governors, and the school solicitor, to tell me about what I should do about contacts with those people, even before I left school, ‘cuz there even were several loitering about the building waiting for me to go out.

“They told me not to talk to anyone and definitely not sign anything without a solicitor present and if you want to talk to someone about it, Mr Davis knows lots about the entertainment industry and I have his number.”

“So how’d you escape the scrum?” Kevin asked.

Jeremy chuckled. “There were almost a dozen people waiting at the front of the building looking at the kids as they left—they had pictures of Amelia, it seemed, since they were looking at a paper and then the kids. I texted Mrs Thompson, my security person, to drive around to the staff car park and wait close to the staff entrance. We slipped out that way. We’ll go in that way tomorrow too, I think. Mrs Thompson said it’s a good thing Amelia’s last name isn’t like either of yours which means they can’t find out where she lives. Say, whose name is registered to her mobile?”

“Oh, it’s in my name,” Kevin said.

“Good; they can’t find her that way either. Head says these people are like sharks but have short memories. Only the really serious agents will persist and they’ll be mostly polite.”

“Amelia, how do you feel about this notoriety?” Denise asked.

“Um, it was funny at first but now I’m a little concerned. I never thought that something like this would happen.”

“Well, your performance was a knock-out,” Denise told her. “As good as a professional, in fact. So you’re in demand as the hot new talent. Is that what you want as a possible career?”

“Ah, no ... I love acting, but not as a career; it’s loads of fun, but I want to have a career in helping people, like you, Denise—and Kevin too.”

Denise looked at her sharply. “Tell me, sweetie, how you felt when you came out for your curtain calls and the audience stood and cheered and whistled and clapped? Some people feel exhilarated, feel a rush, even a tingling, like getting horny. Did you feel that?”

“Oh ... um, not really ... I felt, um, really happy that I did so well that people liked it and glad that I made them feel good. I think that was the scariest part of the play—all that emotion washing over me at the end was almost too much, really,” Amelia said, thoughtfully. “Why do you ask? Do people really get horny over that?”

“For sure they do, sweetie! Many actors get turned on sexually from audience adulation. They get a high, almost like a drug, and can get addicted to the feeling. You didn’t feel any of that? Or when you were in plays in Jakarta?”

“Definitely not, no. I liked acting ‘cuz it let me forget about my pain; I could be someone else—even when I was learning my lines it let me forget that pain ‘cuz I could be ‘not me.’ I could become the character I was playing. So the reward for me was being able to ignore my pain, not the audience’s reaction. Um, this time, I felt a connection to the play’s character and wanted to bring Emily to life ‘cuz the play’s message meant a lot to me. And it gave me great satisfaction that I could make the audience understand the play’s message. That’s how I interpreted the applause—not for me, but for Emily. She was the heroine, not me.”

Kevin smiled. “Amelia, that was beautiful, like your name. Very well said, and very mature.”

Denise hugged her. “Honey, you’re very well balanced, it seems. Many actors are egotistical, or exhibitionists, or approval-seekers, and feed on the adulation of their audiences for a psychological high. If you’re not interested in an acting career, that’s just fine; you won’t be tempted by all the fancy offers that’ll be thrown at you. But those people can be persistent; so you can just ignore them. Is that okay?”

“Sure, Denise.”

“And you won’t lose your talent, honey. Remember that; it’s a part of you that you can return to when you want. So if you ever change your mind, that’s a career option you can always go back to. You’re still young and’ll have plenty of choices to make as you get older.”

“Thanks, Denise. You’re the greatest,” Amelia whispered as they embraced again.

Kevin grinned at Jeremy. “Ever get the feeling that you’re superfluous, buddy?” he joked.

Jeremy grinned back. “Not every guy is lucky to have a celebrity as a girlfriend, so I’m content to bask in her radiance,” he chuckled. “Besides, I make a pretty good bodyguard.”

Amelia looked at Jeremy. “You can guard my body anytime, you know,” she said and burst out laughing. “I hope you’re not annoyed with me, darling,” she told him. “For making our lives even more complicated now.”

“Oh no,” Jeremy grinned. “Mrs Thompson will have to earn her keep now on our school runs. Just think, you’ll get to see how covert operations are really run.”

Amelia tapped him in the chest. “You goofball. But you’re cute so I’ll keep you around.”

Denise sent an email to Hanford explaining that Amelia had decided that she wasn’t interested in any agents’ offers and to let any callers know of her decision. She also asked him to attempt to keep any stalkers at the school away from the entrances.

The following morning, Amelia and Jeremy decided to use the school’s main entrance instead of the staff one. After all, Jeremy pointed out, he could protect her. Mrs Thompson was a little dubious but agreed, telling them that she’d drop them off, but then cruise past the school’s entrance to ensure that they got safely into the building.

As they expected, there were a number of men loitering near the school entrance, but they were on the sidewalk, staying away from the immediate entry area. Jeremy and Amelia waited down the block from the school until a public bus arrived and then they joined the group of kids that disembarked, walking with them to the school entrance.

As they passed several men on the sidewalk, two of them called out, “Miss Hadad, please?” and began following.

She ignored them and continued walking but one ran to follow her. He caught up with Amelia and Jeremy at the entrance steps, still calling Amelia’s name. Jeremy turned to face him as Amelia continued up the stairs.

“You’re trespassing, mate,” Jeremy growled. “No one’s interested in your pitch.”

“What’s it to you?” the man shot back.

“Nothing, but if you’re still here this afternoon, the school will have you arrested for stalking, okay? Tell your mates that too; the head teacher asked us pupils to report any harassment to him and I’ll be reporting you now.”

Just then a police officer appeared and spoke to Jeremy. “Is this person bothering you, sir?” he asked.

“Actually, Constable, he’s begun stalking one of the pupils who attends the school, together with those other loiterers over there on the sidewalk. You might want to question them why they’re watching every girl going into the school. They even have pictures. Looks very creepy, wouldn’t you say?”

“Thank you, young man,” the officer said. Then to the man, “You, come along with me now, away from the building. I want you to tell me...” his voice faded away as he escorted the man away.

Jeremy’s mobile pulsed with an incoming text. He checked; it was from Mrs Thompson.

“Rang bobbies, said kids being harassed at school,” it read.

He texted back, “OK, they came. We’re good. Thx.”

Within a half hour, the sidewalk was empty of loiterers and they didn’t return; however, Hanford received over a dozen phone calls about Amelia asking for her contact information. He refused to give any information, citing pupil privacy laws. One of the calls was from a person who threatened to sue the school for the contact information. Hanford just hung up on him.

After school, Mrs Thompson was waiting to pick up the two teens. They climbed into the car and she pulled out. After a minute, she muttered “Goddamn” and made a quick u-turn. Jeremy looked up.

“What’s the matter?”

“Yeah,” Thompson said. “We’re being followed. I felt uneasy when I picked you up; there was an occupied car sitting across from the school and there’s never been one there before. Okay, let’s see if I’m right.”

She sped up and then made a sudden right turn.

“Damn,” she grumbled, looking at her mirror. “He is tailing us. Guys, I don’t like this; this probably isn’t just a dumb agent trying to sign up Amelia. Keep your heads down, okay?”

She thumbed her radio. “Olympus, Prometheus, code 16, 11-55.”

“Go ahead, Prometheus.”

“North 2214, 30 kph to Queen’s Road, ETA one minute, target black 4-door Vauxhall Meriva.”

“10-4. Wait one ... Metro unit 34 responding. 10-20?”

“20, Lausanne and Queen’s.”

“10-4. Unit 34 coming from northeast of you. Make for Fordham Park.”

“10-4. That’s in two minutes ... Almost there ... Now turning left on Pagnell, northbound... 20, Pagnell.”

“10-4, Pagnell.”

“Olympus, target overtaking us ... shit, forcing us to the side of street on Pagnell.”

“10-4. Metro 34 advises ETA two minutes.”

Thompson stopped the car. “Guys, keep down. Those blighters are getting out of their car.”

“Prometheus, Metro 34 ETA one minute.”

“4. Two subjects approaching vehicle, could be armed.”

“10-4. Advising Metro 34.”

The men came up, one on each side of their car, and one of them tapped on the driver’s window while the other man tried the passenger door; it was locked.

“Open up! Get out!” the one at Thompson’s door called.

“Bugger off!” Thompson called back.

“Okay, we’re coming in!” The guy pulled out a pistol and slammed it into the window, then screamed as the window resisted his blow; he dropped the pistol, clutching his hand.

Just then a siren whooped and the two men whirled around. A police car pulled up behind Thompson’s car and an amplified voice called, “Freeze and get down on the ground now!”

Then a second police car came barreling down the street from the opposite direction and skidded to a halt.

The man at the passenger side of the car ducked down and pulled out a pistol.

“Git outta here or I’ll shoot thems in the car!” he called.

An officer had exited the second police car and, using the Vauxhall as a shield, crept around its side. Meanwhile, the first man, who had dropped to the ground, reached for the pistol he had dropped. Suddenly there was a high-pitched zinging sound and the man on the passenger side screamed and dropped, hit with taser darts, while the cop from the first car shouted, “Freeze! You make a move for that gun, you’re dead!”

He lay still; Thompson looked out of the closed window.

“Olympus, tell Unit 34 that subject is still within reach of the pistol,” she advised dispatch.

“10-4.”

There was a burst of communication from the Unit 34 police car a few seconds later and then the cop called out, “Slowly roll onto your back away from the car and keep your arms where I can see them!”

Then two more police units arrived.

Two minutes later both men were in handcuffs and were getting stuffed into different patrol cars. Thompson opened her door and got out.

“Thanks, mates,” she called to the cops walking up to her. “What the hell, that was an attempted kidnapping, it seems. They pulled a pistol and tried to break the window. Protected glass doesn’t break so easily.”

One of the officers from the final car to arrive came hurrying over.

“I’m Sergeant Hutchins ... you’re Mrs Wilma Thompson from the U.S. Embassy security section?”

“Yep, Sergeant. Thanks for your men’s quick response. Those blokes were tailing us and then decided to pull us over; I guess because they thought this was a quiet street.”

Hutchins looked over at her car. “Your passengers okay?”

Thompson grinned and looked back at her car. The two teens were wide-eyed, peering out of the side window at the scene.

“Sure. Maybe the young lady’s a bit shaken but the boy’s cool. I’ll see to them. You can book those two blokes for attempted kidnapping, but add all the other charges too, assault, weapons, motor vehicle, resisting, the lot. I’ll be doing a report for the embassy since this was a crime against a diplomatic dependent; if you send an investigator by later, I’d be happy to share it.”

Hutchins nodded. “Sounds good, ma’am. Let’s see if we can move the vehicles so you can get out of here.”

She watched while the cops shifted the cars; then she walked back to hers and got in.

“Okay, Amelia, you all right?” She turned to look at Amelia who sat there, goggle-eyed.

“Um, yes, Jeremy told me we were safe in here and this car was like a tank.”

Thompson snorted. “Well, not quite as secure as a tank, but yeah, it’s pretty well protected. Listen, do you need to talk about it? This can be pretty traumatic and I don’t want you getting bad thoughts or dreams about what happened.”

Amelia nodded, “Yes, maybe if we talk a bit so I know what happened. Jeremy was keeping me down on the car’s floor and I didn’t see anything.”

“All right. There are some shops about a half-kilometer away. I’ll park there and we’ll talk. We’ll be there in a few minutes. One sec, first I need to report ... Olympus, Prometheus, Code 4.”

“Prometheus, Code 4, 10-4.”

Four minutes later, she parked.

“Okay, Mrs Thompson, please explain,” Jeremy asked. “I missed a lot of that too.”

“Sure. The DSS—Diplomatic Security Service—use the standard U.S. police codes because we operate all over the world. The Brit police don’t use them. So I called into dispatch that we had an unknown vehicle following us and told them where I was and my direction and speed. Dispatch alerted a nearby Metro Police unit and gave them the vehicle description and then told the police unit where I was headed. The police told dispatch where I should go to meet up with them. I didn’t expect to be pulled over like that, though...”

The radio beeped. “One sec...” She answered, “Prometheus, go ahead.”

“Olympus. MPS reports situation secure?”

“Secure. Be back in about 30 minutes.”

“10-4, Olympus out.”

“Prometheus out.”

“Wow,” breathed Jeremy.

“Yeah, this is why we’re really careful, kids. I first thought that those berks were following us to try to find out where Amelia lives to contact her, but it was way more sinister than that. We don’t know who they were after, but I suspect that it wasn’t Amelia. Maybe it has something to do with Jeremy’s actions in protecting you last fall, Amelia. Let’s get you home now. You staying with her, Jeremy, or going home?”

“As much as I’d like to stay, I need to get home myself,” Jeremy told her. “You be okay by yourself, sweetie?”

“Um, Denise should be home now, actually,” she replied.

Amelia had exciting news for Denise when she arrived home, and for Kevin later that evening.

In school, the Avery-Denison project was progressing very well; the university faculty had been recruiting additional teacher ed students to learn the exercises; two teams from the original student group were training six additional teams of students at the university. After experiencing the various exercises as couples, the new teams visited Norwich Academy to observe the children in their actual classes.