A New Style of Education

by Karen Page

Part 64

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Part 64

Monday, 27th March 2006

This trip was like the trip to Moscow, fly in, do the concert and leave. Unlike the trip to Moscow, our clothing was more unusual. All the females had scarfs in our hand luggage and more formal Hijabs in case we needed them.

"I feel strange wearing this long jacket," mentioned Emma, as we got off the coach at Luton airport.

"It's called a manteau" reminded Jill, showing off her research. "It's what we should wear in Iran to fit in."

"But aren't they supposed to be black?"

"Only if you want to stand out, or go into the villages. Yes, their government make women wear certain clothes, but they make the most of them and try to look as fashionable as possible."

There wasn't a direct flight to Tehran, so we were going to have to change plane in Turkey. I'd only flown on two trips before, once to Scotland and the other time to Russia. Both times they were direct flights, so having to change planes was a completely new experience. Having the school only thirty minutes from the local airport made trips away simple. Sure, we wouldn't be able to fly to somewhere like Australia from there, but for trips around Europe it was very handy.

We had to worry about our luggage at the airport, but all our instruments were being handled by the school, which I was grateful for. The French Horn wasn't the heaviest instrument, but after carting it around for a bit, does get weary on the arms. We also didn't have to worry about them at the transfer in Turkey, but we did have to claim back our luggage and recheck in for our onward trip to Tehran.

This was the first time the school had been into Iran, so it was something new for all years. As we eventually departed Mehrabad airport, we all tried to grab a window seat in the coach. Obviously, there were a lot of disappointment, but I wasn't one of them. I'd flipped a coin with Helen earlier on the trip. She got the window seat on the plane, and I got the window seat in the coach which was the short straw. By the time we'd got onto the coach, it was dark.

When we drew outside the hotel, we all stopped chatting. We'd been told we were stopping in a nice hotel, but no matter how much digging I'd done, I'd not been able to find out which one we were stopping at. The hotel we'd stopped at in France had been more of a family hotel, as had the one in Moscow. This one was like a five-star hotel. There was even a red carpet waiting for us to step off the coach.

"Okay, listen up," said Mr Hobson from the front of the coach. The driver had hopped out and was getting out the luggage. "This is a bit different from what we normally stop in, so please be on your best behaviour. They don't do student accommodation, so we will be taking up most of their twin rooms. Since all study partners are amazingly same-sex, there shouldn't be any issues with room sharing. Please remember what I said about last night about respect the local law – homosexuality is illegal and the punishment can be the death penalty. The chances are that they wouldn't do that to you, but we don't want to take that chance. Also, sex outside marriage is illegal, but since we have a school rule of no sex, that shouldn't be an issue, should it?"

Mr Hobson gave a firm stare at several people, including myself and Helen. Eventually he continued, "When you get off the coach, collect your luggage from the driver and make your way in pairs to the front desk where Mr Yates should be waiting. You will be given a room key each. Now nobody has ever lost a key, so please don't do so now. It's late, so try to get a good night sleep and we'll all meet up for our breakfast. Tomorrow will be a day to get acclimatised, and Wednesday the concert is in the evening. Any questions?"

There wasn't any, and we all filed out of the coach in an orderly style, being handed an envelope with local money in it. We were just walking towards the entrance when it started to gently rain.

"I thought we'd escaped the rain by coming to the middle east," sighed Helen, a tad theatrically.

"I went to Luxor a few years ago," said Anna. "Now that was a dry area. They are lucky to have a single hour's rain a year."

"Now that is the type of place we need to do a concert, "Emma agreed behind us in the queue. "Heat, no rain, and lots of interesting things to see."

Tuesday, 28th March 2006

I groaned as the alarm woke us up. The time change was too drastic, but it still made me feel like I was waking up in the middle of the night. It was bad enough having to get up early to make it to the airport the day before, but now I just wanted to sleep.

"Come on," encouraged Helen, sounding far too chirpy.

I looked at her with bleary eyes. "Are you serious?"

"I thought you would want to have a look around and explore that park we saw on the map."

I did, but it still felt too early. "Ooh, snow," said Helen, which jolted me quickly out of bed.

"Snow?" I said, almost fearfully. This was Tehran, they shouldn't have snow.

Helen pulled the curtains open a bit, and I could see the nearby mountains, which had snow on them. There wasn't any on the ground in the city.

"Don't worry me like that," I pouted. I still remember the cold in Moscow. "I thought it was going to be nice and warm here."

"About 17 Celsius, is what was forecast, so a bit better than home, but not much."

After the buffet breakfast, where we all met up, Mr Hobson gave us our morning pep talk.

"The morning is to do with what you like," said Mr Hobson. "However, please stay in groups no smaller than four of you. At 1pm, we will meet at the front of the hotel to go and see the Azadi Tower which you all saw on the journey from the airport. I think it will add to the cultural side of the trip."

"So where shall we go first?" Anna asked, getting a little map out of her pocket.

"The hotel receptionist said there was a metro station down that street that we could use to get to The Grand Bazaar," Martha pointed to an area a few streets away.

"That would be fun," I agreed. "After that can we go to Laleh Park?"

Helen glanced across and smiled. She'd mentioned this the other day. Erika, Martha, Anna and Jill all readily agreed.

The six of us were soon out, enjoying seeing the sites in a new city. Apart from wearing a scarf on my head, it wasn't much different from going out in the UK. The manteau wasn't much different from a jacket/coat.

"Good work Jill and Anna with your research," I murmured. "We really do fit in."

"I think we need more fashionable glasses though," added Helen. "I feel rather plain in what I'm wearing."

The city was more of a surprise. For some reason, I'd expected it to look rather run down, but it looked just like a modern city, and had the traffic to match. Iran might be despised by some, but it was certainly appeared to be affluent. Perhaps the oil helped kept the country ticking.

The metro was where we were told and what was surprising was the signs were in English as well as Persian. As we waited, a woman who looked to be in her early twenties approached us and said in English, "Women only carriages are at the front and back."

She waved as if for us to follow. We looked at each other and decided to do just that. Having a local help like that was not what we expected.

The train whistled into the station and we saw that the advice we'd been given was indeed correct. We were at the front carriage, and it was just for women. I felt a bit of a fraud getting into that carriage. What if someone noticed or said something? Helen looked a bit angry at first, thinking we were going to be put in inferior transport, but as the train arrived, we could see that the middle part of the train was packed. It had a lot of men in it, but there were some mixed couples there too. There'd been a lot of pushing and shoving in the middle areas, but in the women only carriage it seemed more relaxed.

"How did you know we weren't local?" Helen asked her in Persian as we sat down in the train.

She looked surprised that we didn't speak English to her. "You looked lost, and you're dressed too formally. Loosen up your scarf and show a bit more hair will help you not stand out as much."

"Thank you," said Helen.

"At least you speak like a local," the woman replied and stood up to get off at her stop. We never found out her name.

We arrived at the entrance to the bazaar and was surprised how large it was. The whole place was bustling and felt real. We went quickly through the first section, just in case that was a tourist trap, but it was like there was every conceivable thing for sale.

"I wonder what Mr Hobson would say if we bought a rug?" said Erika as we gazed at the most stunning rugs I'd seen.

"I think he'd have a hissy fit," Anna responded. We all nodded in agreement.

I think Mr Taylor would blow his top over the security, but that wasn't something I felt I could mention aloud. The rest of the school might know that some of the helpers where alpha members, but they didn't know who.

We came across a stall that was selling bronze cook wear. Jill slid across to take a closer look.

"Now that's something I'd love to get when I leave school," she said to Anna. "Even if we never use it, having some hang in the kitchen would look perfect."

"And I'll let you keep polishing it too," retorted Anna. "How much cleaning do you think it will need to keep it shining like that?"

Jill sighed, but kept looking. The stall owner kept his eye on us, but never approached. He was too busy on his mobile phone.

"Do you miss cooking?" I asked, as we moved on to look in a jeweller's window.

"Oh yes," Jill responded with a hint of sadness in her voice. "I used to cook at least once a week at home, and found it so relaxing."

"She was good at it too," added Anna. "I still remember her stroganoff when you had to stay at my house. Her sister and mum were wonderful cooks too."

"Hey, you helped with the stroganoff."

"Only a little. I doubt I'd have ever attempted something like that without you there."

"Have you ever asked if you could help out in the school kitchen?" Helen asked.

"But isn't that out of bounds?"

"Jayne and I had a go when we made those desserts. I'm sure if you are good enough then Justin will let you help in his kitchen. I've seen some of the higher years help out."

"Yes, but that's part of their preparation for leaving school, isn't it?"

"Some of it, yes. I do remember Justin saying that we wouldn't leave school without us knowing how to cook properly. However, I do know that some people like cooking more than others and have been known to just appear."

Jill looked dubious, but Anna seemed set on finding out when we got back to Hayfield Hall.

After an hour, we made our way back to the metro so we could explore around Laleh Park. The return journey on the metro was a lot simpler, as we'd been on it before and knew what to do.

We were just about to enter the park when a white van came screeching to a halt and the side door opened. Two men jumped out and tried to grab Jill. Whoever they were hadn't expected half a dozen determined girls. Erika kicked one of the thugs in the balls, while Anna and Martha were helping Jill get away from the clutches of the other thug.

"Ooh, you bitch," that thug groaned in French, and tried to grab her, but she moved away quicker than he could react.

Helen and I positioned ourselves between the van and the melee to make sure that Jill, nor anybody else was taken.

"Louis Jumelet?" I called out loudly. This was a gamble that the only person we'd identified in the school leak was involved in this grab and he knew French. I'd no idea what he looked like, but it was the only thing that I could think off.

That instantly stopped the two men and they turned to look at me. "How do you know my name?" the shorter one asked in French.

The four girls that weren't in the know looked very confused. Jill tried to wrestle herself from his grip, but he held on tightly. Two other men jumped out of the van, one of them went for me and the other went for Martha.

"The Supplier will not be happy that you can't even grab a girl from the street," I taunted in French. I felt this was payback for him ringing my mum.

In their confusion Erika managed to get another perfect kick. The guy who'd just grabbed Martha yelped in pain as her foot hit his groin and released her. Helen shouted to them, "Run."

Anna, Jill Helen and I weren't as lucky as we got pushed into the van. Before we could try to escape, the door got slid shut, and the driver took off at high speed. Moments later our heads were covered by a hood and we could no longer see where we were being taken. I felt my body being tapped and my travel phone being found and confiscated.

* * *

Getting taken like that wasn't a good idea, but it was far better than us all getting taken. I hoped that Erika and Martha would get help for us without the mole finding out.

It must have been twenty minutes later that we came to a stop. Our hoods and bindings were roughly removed. I rubbed my aching wrists and I glanced around, and saw we were in what looked like a small deserted garage. I looked back out of the door, but saw no houses, just open land. Inside, the repair ramps looked like they'd had better days. I had no idea where we were. I looked at Helen to make sure she was okay. She didn't have any obvious injuries, but looked very angry. Knowing she didn't have her emotions under control, I scrunched up my eyes.

"You killed my Mother," screamed Jill in French, trying her best to get out of her captor's grip. I opened my eyes in surprise. Jill having a go at the captors was the last thing I expected. It was more something Helen would do.

"Why did you grab us?" Helen yelled also in French. Oh perfect.

One of the men went to slap her, but Louis grabbed him just before he struck.

"We were told they weren't to be harmed," Louis reminded the thug. He then turned to Helen. "We grabbed you because you were stupid enough to get in our way. But since you know who I am, then I think you'll do just fine. The boss will be here soon, so you'll just have to wait in the back."

He then turned to Jill. "Why don't you tell me who you are, and I'll tell you why I killed your Mum?" Jill, then realised they didn't know who she was, and wanted to keep it that way. She shook her head. Louis just smiled.

We were manhandled towards a door at the rear of the garage. Helen saw that I wasn't struggling and calmed down a bit. There was a time to fight and now it wouldn't help. I wanted to save my energy for when it was needed. Anna and Jill though didn't keep calm and kept trying to get away, which led to them being dragged quite firmly.

"I can walk on my own", Helen grumbled, but the men weren't taking any chances. A man with a gun was standing by the door and he opened it, and we were pushed inside. The clang of the slammed door reverberated as we took stock of our situation.

There was a worn-out settee and a few chairs. Anna and Jill looked a bit shocked and I steered them to the settee. Helen looked peeved and prowled around the room like a tiger in a zoo cage.

"Getting kidnapped and we aren't even in the beta team," said Jill quietly with a slight sarcastic tone.

Anna didn't say anything, but just sat as close to Jill as she could without sitting on her lap.

"I didn't expect to be kidnapped either," added Helen, as she continued to examine the room.

"Did they take your phone?" Jill asked to all of us.

"Yes," I sighed. Helen added hers was taken too.

"So, they'll never find us," uttered Jill trying not to sound upset, but failing. Anna cuddled her closer.

After fiddling near a small window close to the ceiling Helen came to join us and dragged a decrepit chair to sit in front of Anna and Jill. "They said we weren't to be harmed. They didn't kidnap us for spite, so must have a plan. All we need to do is wait. They will find us."

Both Jill and Anna looked dubious even though Helen sounded very confident. I hoped Helen was remembering back to our first week at Hayfield like I had.

"So, how did you find out your Dad was really Julia?" I asked Jill, trying to distract her and Anna.

"Haven't I told you?" Jill responded, sounding puzzled.

"No. You haven't told us any of your time in Milton Keynes before you joined the school. Anna, also we know nothing of your time after you left for Milton Keynes."

Helen smiled at my tactic.

"The worst thing about moving was losing Jill and all my friends. I had Erika, but that was it. Where we lived before was a large village. Milton Keynes, even though it's a town, is big enough to be called a city. I'd gone from somewhere where the number of shops you could count on your fingers to one where there was a huge shopping centre, a big cinema and indoor ski slope. I felt a bit lost."

"Lost?"

"I didn't know where anything was. I remember going to Wolverhampton, or Stafford and knew where everything was. Here, the centre was a short bus ride away, but I knew no one to share the adventure with, apart from Erika. It sounds bad, but when Jill arrived it made things seem better. The gang was back. I just wish it wasn't because of what happened, if you know what I mean."

"So what did you do when Jill moved to Milton Keynes?"

Jill shrugged, not looking at all happy about this conversation.

"Bill was so distraught," added Anna, pulling Jill in towards her. "The first week Bill spent as much time at my parent's house as with her father. All we did was show love, and was there. It was so hard as it was like Bill had shut part of himself away. At the time, we didn't realise that was a deliberate thing, but it just made things so much harder."

"Sorry," murmured Jill, a few tears trickling down her cheek. I was surprised it wasn't more, but maybe she had sobbed this out many times.

"So how did you discover about Julia?" Helen asked, trying to get Jill back to my question.

"It was about a week after I'd moved to Milton Keynes," started Jill, wiping the dampness from her cheek. "We'd gone for a walk around Caldecotte lake, which wasn't far from where we lived. There was a three-year-old boy playing at the edge of the lake and he got a bit close. He was throwing some bread to a duck and forgot to let go of the bread and slipped in. His mother couldn't swim and was frantic. Dad didn't hesitate, but just jumped in and grabbed the boy."

"That was very brave," commented Helen. I nodded in agreement.

"So, Dad jumped in and pulled the poor boy out. This was January, so not only was it very cold, the water was very cold too. We all rushed back to the cars where the mother had a spare blanket to wrap him in and rushed to take him to the hospital to be checked out. This just left me and Dad."

Jill paused.

"And?" prompted Helen, eager to hear more.

"Dad's clothes were soaked," continued Jill her eyes focusing on the door to the room. Anna pulled Jill deeper into her embrace. "They were literally dripping onto the floor. I took off my coat, so Dad could have something to keep him warm. When he removed his, I saw that the baggy wool jumper was no longer baggy but clingy. I could see an outline of breasts."

"Do you think they would give us some water?" asked Anna, stopping Jill from progressing further.

Internally I sighed. This had been a good distraction for Anna and Jill.

Helen and I did Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who would ask for water. Helen won, and opted to do it. She went and banged on the door. When it opened, we saw the guard was brandishing a gun.

"Can we have some water?" Helen asked in Farsi. He didn't look like he understood, so repeated herself in French, which he seemed to get.

"I'll sort," he responded in French. He waved his gun and I pulled Helen inside. The guard shut us back in.

"There's no way out that way," I murmured, gently placing my right hand on Helen's shoulder.

"But..." started Helen but was interrupted as the door was opened.

One of the guards had two large bottles of water, the other guard stood back away from the door, his gun pointed toward us just in case we tried to make a move.

As we took the offered water we heard raised voices coming from the front of the garage. One was female which surprised me, but they were too far away to work out what was being said.

Just as the door shut, a single gunshot rang out.

Having all done shooting at the school firing range, all four of us knew what a gun sounded like, so there was no hiding it from Jill or Anna. I expected them to be frightened, but the two non-Beta's didn't appear concerned.

"Do you think we're being rescued?" asked Jill, sounding hopeful.

I'd not thought of that and glanced across at Helen. She shrugged, seemingly not having thought about it being a rescue attempt. Surely there would have been more shooting if we were being rescued? It didn't take long before the door flew open. Instead of being rescued, a body was shoved into the room and the door slammed shut. The trousers on the new arrival were covered in blood.