Chapter 1: Panic!

‘You’re home alone? call me then’ messages Lizz, my niece, my brother’s step-granddaughter.

He has long passed away and I have taken over his grandfather role.

On the first ring she smiles at me “Hey uncle, how are you?”

“Fine, except that I miss my love and am sitting here all alone in my French house. When will you come and make me happy with your two little ones and your new amant?”

“So, you could use company, tomorrow or so?” She turns her cell phone and I see her friend Diane, looking at me dejectedly and tears all over. I know her to be a party girl, so clearly something is wrong.

Sobbing, she asks “Can I go into hiding with you? My Robin has a fight with his trigger-happy little criminal clients. And they are threatening to do something to me and I don’t feel like it and, and and...”

Tears run down her dark cheeks and there is desperation in her eyes. As I speak soothingly and listen, my mind works like a raging machine how to fix this. On my laptop I search for flights here and there and get an idea.

“Then you’re better off with me, right? But your trail hereto we need to erase. I think, with a intense and loud argument, you should leave Robin. Then you’re probably not interesting anymore and they won’t come after you. Now go with Lizz to your apartment to get some of your stuff. You shout on leaving that you are going to your aunt in Moengo and pack your suitcase now.”

“I don’t have an aunt in Moengo!”

“Of course not, but I must have you on a flight to Paris-Orly and as soon as possible. There they fly tomorrow at 1 o’clock to Cayenne in French Guiana. And that’s only a ferry ride away from Moengo. And no eyes in Suriname at Zanderij that don’t see you getting off the plane. You take the intercity to here at Paris-Bercy and nobody knows where you are. Then we have a watertight story for your girlfriends, which Lizz can toss around.

At Schiphol Airport, you pin as much cash as you can and turn off your cell phone. You give it to Lizz. Cousin Jackie can bring it to Moengo, he is going to Suriname this week. He puts it on there, sends some messages here and there and later has it stolen – well stripped.

I give you a French mobile phone here, with which you only call Lizz and me. I book your flight Schiphol-Cayenne and your train ticket here. You’ll see my mail with the details get to Lizz in a minute. Say your names as in your passport and your date of birth”

“Jeez! You shift gears fast! Diane Francina Yellwell. 14-7-1997, Paramaribo”

“Ok. And beware, your apartment may be bugged, and your phones tapped and traced. Send a friend to Robin, who can whisper amorously in his ear what you are up to. You step in when they are having steamy sex on the couch. And that’s what the argument is all about.”

“How bad are you!” exclaims Lizz and smiles at me “You saw Linda at that party the other day, right? Robin talks about her bobbies all the time. I can send those for a message”.

“Big, slim, black and legs up to her tits? Mmmm, yes, I can imagine. I’ll book for you, laters!”

For a moment I see Linda in my mind, how she danced belly to belly with me, she a head taller than me, so my head between her full, soft tits. Substance for very wet dreams for an old man like me.

Two hours later I get a picture via Lizz of a startled looking Robin and Linda, his pleasure deep in hers with date and time. Gonna work as revenge porn. Jealous of him? At his cock there? Sure.

A number, unknown to me, texts me. “Burner phone. We got one in every suitcase with an anonymous credit card. Mission accomplished. All needies with me for a few weeks. See you tomorrow!”