Miss Adventure
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Part 1

It is not unheard of. A fan becomes so obsessed with a celebrity that they try to become just like that person. These “super-fans” have also become known as “stans” after the Eminem rap song. They try to take on the appearance of their idol and may even try to make contact with the object of their obsession or get close to them in some way. In some cases it is all consuming.

In the case Of Madeleine Gallop it was the fact that she was at best, a minor celebrity, that made it all the more tragic. The only daughter of the high flying trader Haddon Gallop and his wife Nora, Madeleine had a privileged upbringing but a hunger for fame. She burst onto the scene with a series of TikTok videos showcasing her style in clothes, hair and makeup, exhibited with a coquettish flamboyance. She quickly developed a legion of fans, but just as quickly those fans disappeared.

The one who remained was Jon Kellaway. He was the archetypal stan. He had become so obsessed with the object of his desire that he has started to imitate her. He had grown and then added to his hair to imitate her hairstyles, his face had been stripped to follow her skincare regime and makeup tips, his body had been altered to fit her clothes, and he had zealously copied her every movement on line, and even the sound of her voice.

The strange thing was that Jon was in other respects normal, but this behavior could be described as close to madness. To all intents and purposes he appeared female, even when not emulating Madeleine. He worked online and so his appearance was of no concern to others, except his despairing parents he still lived with. They were clearly appalled that their son was prancing about their kitchen wearing a high messy bun and makeup, squeaking like a pre-teen and dancing like a girl. But fanaticism in any form, is not a mental disease, or so they were told. Nor is parental love when tested beyond rational limits.

Their son was a “MadGal” as the dwindling followers of Madeleine Gallop were sometimes referred to

Jon had written numerous letters to Madeleine. Not a week went by without at least one letter , but more often 2 or 3. Even when Madeleine’s image faded from the screens of the thousands, Jon’s letters seemed to serve as an encouragement, but they could not stop the developing spiral of depression and self-doubt that had taken grip of the former TikTok star.

But Jon remained unaware of how serious things had become, right up until he received an invitation to come to call at the Gallop mansion on Long Island, apparently from the lady herself.

Even then, something seemed off for John. He knew the object of intense fascination better than anyone, including her parents. This letter was not from her. Yet the opportunity to actually touch the flesh of Madeleine Gallop was too special to turn away. Jon set off for Long Island, wearing one of the dresses that he knew was a favorite of hers.

He took a train and suffered the stares of those who will never understand true idol worship, and then a local cab to the gates of the Gallop Mansion. He buzzed the intercom and the gate opened, setting him the task of walking up the long drive in his kitten heels. He rang the door bell.

The door was not answered by a maid as the surroundings might have suggested, but by Madeleine’s mother who stared at him in what seemed to him to be the blank gaze of misapprehension that he was used to.

“I am Jon Kellaway,” he said, in the voice of Jon Kellaway. And as the blank gaze continued he did a girlish twirl as she would do, and squeaked – “Madeleine’s biggest fan”.

To his surprise the woman started to sob. She turned and rushed inside leaving Jon to enter on his own and stand alone in the huge atrium.

A man appeared. Mr Gallop, Jon had no doubt of it. He introduced himself again, first as himself and then in his MadGal persona.

“I am so glad that you have come,” said Haddon Gallop. “I have some tragic news, but then I have something to ask of you – something that I could ask only of Madeleine’s biggest fan. I understand from her that is you?”

“Oooh, certainly,” squeaked Jon, tilting his head as she did and bringing his hands under his chin. It was exactly what she did. He must have done it a thousand times in front of the mirror. Mr Gallop clearly noticed and nodded approvingly.

“Won’t you come into my study and take a seat … Jon.” Clearly the name did not match the creature in the feminine clothing acting just as his daughter did, at least when the camera was on her. “Please continue with your copy of her manner. It’s charming,” said Mr Gallop.

“When can I see her?” said Jon, starting to fizz with excitement.

“Jon … I feel odd calling you that … as I said I have some bad news”. Haddon Gallop motioned the boy in the dress to sit, which he did tucking his skirts neatly under his bottom. “There is no easy way to say this, but you it will come to you as suddenly as it did to us – Madeleine is dead.” He stopped to let it sink in. “Worse still, she died by her own hand. It was suicide. But we don’t want all her fans to know that. We are worried for them all, Jon. What does it say that somebody who has everything - money, beauty and success – should just end it. How many others would be driven to do the same? Not you, I hope?”

Jon was still reeling in his chair. It was if the sun had gone black – the light that nourished the world had simply gone out. There were no tears of grief, only shock.

“She has a legacy that we want to preserve”, Mr Gallop continued. “It is far better that she die by accident. It is best that she be seen to live in joy right up until the moment that she dies in tragic circumstances – suddenly and painlessly, and at the height of her fame. Perhaps her last words can be of fate, and the joy of life, and dying well, never to grown old, never to be less than gorgeous.”

The words rolled off his tongue as if rehearsed. But they sounded true and right. She should die in the way her father described.

“But she is already dead?” said Jon. “She cannot die twice?”

“Well, that is where you come in,” the older man said. “Actually, we have not yet reported the death. She is still here with us. She is in the freezer in the garage.”

The words shook Jon. He mind-numbing shock was dealt another blow, but it had the effect of bringing him back to consciousness.

“What do you want me to do?” Jon asked.

“We want you to be her,” her father answered. “We want you to be her for a few days. You can certainly do that. Maybe just a fuzzy filter or something, but you sound like her, and you move and act just like her. It is incredible. You seriously are her greatest fan. I can see that now. You want to help us, don’t you? You loved her in her life, now give her the gift of honor in her death. Will you do that?”

The words were like honey. Jon could only say one word in reply – “Yes.”

What Jon did not know was that Haddon Gallop was a rogue and a failure. His business was failing, or rather had already failed and only existed as a shell kept from cracking by what funds he had left. The news had been given to Madeleine, who was shallow and grasping, and could not bear the thought of a life without money – It was all that was needed to push her over the edge.

But as Haddon and his wife wept over her lifeless body, he suddenly saw the opportunity that he had considered and even planned could work for his daughter as it could have for him. They were all insured – Haddon, Nora and Madeleine had reciprocal death policies for a total of $10,000,000 each, but with a suicide excllusion.

His plan was to take his sailboat “Nomad” out to sea with a collapsible boat and motor hidden aboard, and a timer device to blow the fuel tank. The boat would be destroyed in a manner to eliminate all evidence and he would be lost at sea, except of course that he would have returned at night in the concealed craft, landing at a beach where Nora would collect him.

But as Nora continued to weep he started to wonder how the plan might work with Madeleine as the victim. There is no pay out on suicide, but there is for accidental death. There would be a delay without a body, but even the promise of $10,000,000 would be enough for him to get through, he thought.

All he needed to do was to persuade this poor deranged young fool to go along with his plan, and with his silver tongue he could surely do that. As a market trader pursuing well moneyed clients he knew how to turn dreams into promises and sell them as paper that had any value so long as you believed. He had a gift with words and that had worked yet again. The simple youth had said yes.

“I want for Madeleine to talk about going on a sea voyage,” Haddon Gallop told Jon. “She always hated water and the sea, but I don’t think she told anybody that.”

“No, she didn’t,” confirmed Jon. He would know.

“Let’s script some TikToks from her. Encouraging things to give value to her life. And then let’s send her on that voyage and have her disappear, and forget this tawdry suicide ever took place. Let’s preserve her legacy, Jon, you and me.”

It was as if Jon was still in shock. Somebody of supreme importance in his life was gone. The only trace of her left was the face he saw reflected in the mirror on the wall – that pretty face that he had made from his own – the only living Madeleine.

“Alright,” he said, his eyes still on the reflection, and speaking in her voice. “Let’s do that.”

Part 2

The new Madeleine had been just that for over a week. There were things to be done. There was no room for Jon. She was Madeleine day and night.

She tried on many of the clothes in her closet, relishing the memories and reliving moments in the full length mirrors, that were in every corner of her large and lavish bedroom, but to visit the boat “Nomad” she wore simple embroidered jeans and a bright tee-shirt emblazoned with “Sailor Girl”. The TikTok video would see her gushing about the sea as a place to clear the head and to reaffirm the value of just being alive.

The plan was simple. There would be videos of her on the boat, and then one evening she would go for a sail on a day when there was a “sunset regatta” so she would be seen by many. She would engage the autopilot on a setting to head for a pre-determined spot out at sea until night fell, and then Daddy would come to collect her in a borrowed launch. The lifeless body would be transferred to the boat, and “Nomad” would then be set on fire.

But as the day for this approached, Daddy already had a change of that plan.

“We need to transfer the body to Nomad in advance,” he said. “We cannot thaw the body out in the house. There might be traces. There are dogs that can sniff out signs of corpses. We will take her down to the boat a day or two before, in a sail bag, you and me.”

It was only a small change, but it made more sense later.

She enjoyed her last days at the Gallop Mansion. Mommy had come to treat he as her daughter. They had even gone shopping together in the village, although it was not something that had been done before for some time. Daddy had encouraged it. Madeleine should be seen. People in the village would notice. She was alive as far as they knew.

Mommy had tearful moments, but on the whole she enjoyed having her daughter back, even if only for a moment.

“After all of this, will you come back to me?” she implored. “You would need to look different, but you could still be my daughter.”

“I would like that,” said the new Madeleine.

But the day came and Daddy took her down to the boat. He was wearing overalls that he would later burn. He removed the body from the bag but left it in the cabin. It had an unpleasant odor. He checked the autopilot, and then explained to Madeleine how she could sail out as he showed her, and then simply turn on the automation to reach the pick up point.

“Remember to wave at people in the boats in the regatta,” he said. “And use your phone to post a TikTok video as you head out … maybe more than one.”

The sky was clear and the breeze was constant and not cold. It was, as had been said in recent posts “a beautiful day to be at sea”. Madeleine’s spirits were high. She was doing good. The message was all about the joy of life, and then at that very moment, fate would kill her hero.

She had come to grips with things lately. She had a wonderful life, but she had been lucky. She was pretty and she was rich, and her parents loved her, although Daddy did make her feel a little uneasy at times. It was right that she was admired, but now she was gone, what did the future hold for the new Madeleine?

He liked to be her, but that would soon be over. Daddy had promised her support, and she had agreed to accept it, and he had not suggested that she give up being a girl. Perhaps she could continue with that for a while? She could be Jonette, a past admirer of Madeleine, but now developing her own style, and breaking free of the past?

She did at instructed. She smiled and waved, and did a final TikTok video.

“I came out tonight to watch the sunset from the sea,” she said gleefully. “You can see it behind me, just about to go down. By the way, my lipstick color is called simply “Sunset” and it’s by Jazz Cosmetics.” There were still endorsements, after all.

She engaged the autopilot. There was a loud clunk. It was not something she had heard before. She wanted to just check … but the automation was locked. With it all the electric winches not operating. She was momentarily worried as the darkness descended, before she realized that Daddy must have fixed this so that she would be sure to get to the waypoint set. The readout said that would happen at 10:00 so there was some time to wait.

She noticed that the riding lights were not on. That was not right. The last of the daylight was disappearing and no vessel should be at sea at night without lights, and they would be needed to be seen at the pickup point.

She had avoided going below, but the light controls were down there. They did not work. She decided that there might be a problem with the connection to the battery. She smiled as she thought that this was not something a girl would give much thought to, but she had a scrunchie and she tied back her pretty hair and undid the cover to the machinery with her soft manicured hands.

Then she found the bomb. Even though she had no real knowledge of what a bomb might look like, it was obvious that was what it was. It was on the fuel tank. There was a battery and what must be a detonator, and a wire running back, and through, and around, and … the autopilot.

Madeleine fell back in shock. In the very dim light she could see what may well have been her reflection. Pretty painted face, but ashen grey, dead eyes. She was looking at the now thawed corpse.

She jumped up and went back on deck, her mind racing. It was all coming together. But how could she confirm her suspicions. She grabbed her phone. There was still a signal but it was fading. She went on to her site, which Daddy was now controlling.

There was her pretty face staring out, slightly fuzzy as all her recent posts had been for obvious reasons.

“Great day for a sail,” the text said. “I am headed out to sea with my new boyfriend, who must be my biggest fan.”

Why mention she was with a man? Two bodies, that’s why. There would be no pickup. The best bet was that the bomb would go off at the waypoint. Madeleine would die in the flames. They both would – even the dead one.

The rudder was locked. The winches were locked. The breeze was solid and the boat was moving at speed. Land was miles back. And it was dark. There was no life raft, and it seemed there was not even a life vest. The bomb could be disabled and the sails could be dropped, but then where would she be. The sea was empty. Even the lights of land reflected on the sky had disappeared. There was noting but black, and the stars above.

But then, just as she was ready to drop the sails, she saw something ahead. Was it a light?

She had no control over the boat but it seemed to be heading in that direction, so she let “Nomad” stay to it’s course. She could see that it was riding light of a small vessel, and as she was almost abreast of it, she dropped the sails. She may not be able to control them, but she knew the ropes that held them up and she found a knife and cut them.

All she had was the light of her phone. She waved it in the direction of the boat. Would she been seen? The battery seemed to be fading.

Then she realized that the vessel was moving towards her. Her heart literally seemed to rise in her modified chest. She could hear the sound of an engine. Then a searchlight beam caught her. It was being held by a man – young, tanned and strong looking.

For some strange reason she reached up and pulled the scrunchie from her hair and let it fall about her shoulders and blow about in the breeze that had got her to that point.

“Can I help you Miss,” said the man. It was a pleasure vessel with two large outboard motors, and it was kitted out for fishing, with several rods ready to be set.

“I need to get off this boat,” she said. “Can I come aboard yours?”

“By all means,” said the man, in a way that made him sound more educated and refined than her first appeared. He even offered her a hand to help her across. “I’m Steve,” he said.

“Madeleine,” she said, giving him a little smile, although he clearly deserved much more.

“I think I recognize you,” he said. “I have a younger sister, you see, aren’t you …”. He stopped. There were more important things. “Do we need to get a line onto your boat and tow it back to harbor?”

“What time is it?” she said.

“9:45,” he replied. “It’s late, but I am out here looking for swordfish. They come up to feed on the surface at night.”

“Could we just head away from the boat and wait for a bit?” she said. She had no idea that she had left it so late to think about disabling the bomb. It was still wired up. Would it go off at 10:00 or did it need to achieve a position?

The answer came soon enough. They had drifted some distance before the explosion occurred, igniting the fuel tank and ripping the vessel apart.

“I think that you must have a story to tell me,” said Steve. “If this was an insurance scam then what exactly was your escape plan?”

Insurance. Suddenly another penny dropped triggering the machinery in her mind.

“Did you catch a fish?” she said.

“No fish tonight,” he said. “But maybe something better?”

It was enough for him to fire up his engines and head back, moving at speed and using his electronic navigation to get back to port some distance down the coats to the west from where “Nomad” had been berthed.

There Steve had the use of a beach house, and a place for the boat. They both belonged to his boss at the engineering firm where he worked in the city. He worked hard and had earned the right to use these things in his week off.

He was able to offer her a late supper (fish of course – from the trip before) and a warm bed. It was big enough for two, but first Madeleine would need to share all her secrets with him.

She had not asked for that first kiss, but she welcomed it when it came. Nor was she surprised. He was the first person who knew her only as a woman, and that kiss seemed to settle in her own mind, that this is what she was. But she had to be honest with him, at least to an extent.

It was hard to do. She did it through tears, and as he came up to hold her and comfort her, she pushed him away. He would not embrace her if he knew the truth. She had been sent out to die on that boat, by her own father, to get the insurance. She had nowhere to go.

“Don’t be silly. You can stay here, with me,” he said.

“You won’t want me. Not when I tell you that I am not a real girl. I am not a girl at all.” She sobbed and rolled herself into a small ball in the corner of the sofa. She stayed for what must have been at least an hour, before he came over and unwound her, and led her to bed.

Part 3

It was the day after when her phone had been charged overnight that she posted a new TikTok video.

“Hi everybody. Here I am lying in bed with my boyfriend Steve, so forgive me for not looking my best. I told you guys that the sea is where you can find peace, but it turns out that you can find love out there too. Keep watching. More to come soon.”

The police called later in the day. The officer said – “Your father has reported you missing. He said that you went on a sailing trip last week and you didn’t return. But when we checked you phone we saw that you had been active.”

“Didn’t Daddy tell you that the boat sank last night? Well, nobody was hurt so it doesn’t matter. But as for missing … well, I am no longer living at home. I have moved in with my boyfriend. I think Daddy is finding it hard to accept.”

She waited for Daddy to call, but he never did. It seemed that his plans were blown out of the water, as he had intended for her. But why would she admit her part in whatever crime he might have committed, when she was safe and warm. It seemed better to stay quiet about what he had done and wit for him to make the first move. Would he have any reason to say that this was not his daughter?

As it happens, the likely reason for his silence was that he was distracted by more serious things. It was only a few weeks before his bubble burst. He was bankrupted and worse than that – there was fraud involved, and all the shame that went with that and the prospect of imprisonment. There was no talking his way out of this.

Apparently he decided to burn down the mansion – it longer belonged to him. He had intended to shoot Mommy and for them to go up in flames together, but to her credit Mommy had emptied his gun, and so was able to empty her own into him.

Nora Gallop was sent to prison, but with a reduced sentence in the circumstances. Being the killer disqualified her from receiving the insurance life insurance on his life, but Haddon Gallop died by misadventure, as they say. Which means that the wonderfully pretty and talented, although no longer that famous, Miss Madeleine Gallop, picked up a cool $10,000,000.

Steve and Madeleine visit Mommy from time to time and she is glad to have a daughter of any kind alive to care about her. The policy on her own life continues, with Madeleine as beneficiary. That is not to say that those other parents, Jon’s parents, will miss out. They may have never expected it, but they will soon be the mother and father of the bride, even though they must pretend to be only family friends.

Madeleine keeps up the payments on Nora’s policy, but she has let her policy lapse. It only seems right. She was already died twice.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2022

Erin’s Seed: “A beautiful young socialite has been found victim of suicide and her parents are shamed. But she has a stalker - an imitator. The parents call him in to fill in for her as they really have no money and she is insured with no pay out for suicide.”
I was minded to think of Chris Cocker, the Britney Spears fan who was so fixated that he was on the verge of changing sex to honor his idol. But then this story took a whole new direction…