Bonney Nicole - The Price of life: the true story of an Australian held to ransom for 462 days

Newcastle, NSW

Sunday, 24 August 2008

Oh god, I missed the phone. I hate clients calling on a Sunday. Its around 10.30 a.m., and I think to myself, If its important, theyll call back, just as the home phone starts ringing. Arrrgh.

Hello, Kellie speaking.

Hi, Kellie, Im sorry to call you on a Sunday morning.

Yeah, right, I say. Im curt but not rude. I just dont like discussing work on a Sunday its the only day my family spends time together without any interruptions. Besides, Im a little hung-over and I havent yet had the caffeine fix I need to get me going.

The woman on the end of the line has an Asian accent. She doesnt sound like a regular client who wants my time; she sounds genuinely apologetic for calling me, yet probing, wanting something.

My name is Glenda Kwek and Im from the Sydney Morning Herald. Im sorry to call you about this as I realise it must be a terribly distressing time for the family but

But what? What the hell is she talking about? She must have the wrong number.

but can you confirm the kidnapping of Nigel Brennan in Somalia?

What?! Are you serious? I ask. She must be having a laugh.

Yes, I am very serious. There are reports that an Australian man called Nigel Brennan has been kidnapped in Somalia with Canadian journalist Amanda Lindhout.

Oh, holy crap.

There is a long pause.

I feel the blood drain from all parts of my body; my knees buckle underneath me and I slump into a nearby chair. My armpits start to prickle and I can feel the adrenaline building in my body.

Matt is looking at me, questioning me with his eyes. On a nearby notepad I scrawl the words Nigel and Amanda have been kidnapped in Somalia and pass it to him. He disappears.

I am numb to what Glenda is saying so I ask her to tell me exactly what she knows.

She does so, and it all becomes a bit too real. As Glenda repeats Amandas name, I know its true, even though I hadnt heard that Nige had hooked up with her again.

My mouth is dry and as I go to talk, I have to try a couple of times before I can peel my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

Look, all I can confirm is yes, Nigel Brennan is my brother-in-law; he was going to Kenya last I heard. And yes, I know Amanda Lindhout.

Is this the first time you have heard this? she asks, sounding more shocked than I am.

Yes. I have no idea what youre talking about.

The penny drops for her. Glenda has just realised that she, a journalist from a major daily newspaper, has informed our family of their son and brothers kidnapping. Not the cops, not the Australian Federal Police, not the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, but a journalist.

Matt appears in front of me with a map, showing me that Somalia is next to Kenya.

Oh my god, this is really happening. Matt starts to pace the room and I can see what hes thinking. How? Why? When? By whom?

Glenda informs me that it happened yesterday, 23 August. Nigel and Amanda were reported missing when they didnt return to their hotel after a day out taking photographs of refugee camps. DFAT is presently unable to confirm exactly whats happened to them.

She asks if she can speak with Nigels mother.

Ah, no, I say. I will take your number and get her to call you. Glenda gives me her number and we say goodbye.

I have never forgotten the sound of Glenda Kweks voice.

Im not sure whether it is adrenaline or instinct, or both, that takes over at this moment, but I turn to Matt and say, Right, I need to call your parents to let them know. Your mum needs to phone Glenda Kwek, and well go from there. I feel like I could run a marathon, yet my legs are like jelly.

The knot in my stomach feels as big as those in the fastening ropes of an ocean liner and my head is starting to pound. I dial the number and wait.

Part of me is hoping Matts mum, Heather, wont pick up because then she will have just a few more minutes of normality before I turn her and Geoffs life to shit. Another part of me is willing them both to the phone so that we can find out exactly where Nigel is and whether he is okay.

Why did he go to Somalia? This question keeps going over and over in my head.

Heather answers the phone in a bright, cheery voice, a voice that sounds like a beautiful sunny Queensland morning. I am about to deliver a cyclone right into her house.

Hi, I say, trying to sound like my usual self. Is Geoff with you?

No, hes outside. How are you?

Ah, good. Can you do me a favour and go and get him? Ive got some news to tell you both.

Whats wrong?

Oh, nothing. I just need you both to be there together.

The last time I did this I told them I was having another baby. How do I tell my in-laws this kind of news? And why does it have to be me? I figure its best that it comes from a family member and not the press, as I have just experienced. And its too much for Matt to handle.

Hes here, she says. Now whats wrong?

I need you to sit down.

I dont need to sit down. What is it? Her tone is anxious.

Ive just had a phone call from Glenda Kwek. Shes a journalist with the Sydney Morning Herald, and she told me that Nigel has been kidnapped in Somalia with Amanda Lindhout.

Dont be ridiculous! Hes in Kenya, she says.

Heather, Kenya is next to Somalia. Glenda said they havent returned to their hotel and are feared kidnapped.

Oh, thats ridiculous. He wasnt going to Somalia.

Look, heres her number. You need to ask her all the details. Shes waiting for your call.

Youre serious about this, then?

Yeah, I am. Just call her and find out as much as you can and well talk again soon.

Matt and I stare at each other in silence, and then he starts ranting.

The stupid little fucker!

I let Matt continue for a bit as I cant seem to move. All I can feel are vibrations through the chair legs as Matt stomps around on the floorboards. He continues to pace.