Fort Beckham

‘WHEN the plot to kidnap the Beckhams came to light we worried about the future.

At Posh’s insistence, Fort Beckham has no loos

Many feared that Day-vid and Vicky would go to ground, retreat into a hermitic existence and neither be seen nor heard from again.

Thankfully, it was not to be. But the event was not without ramifications.

Dave was forced to leave for Spain, to eke out a living as a simple footballer and hawker of mobile phones in a town where no-one knew his name and fewer still understood his unique brand of English.

Posh remained at home in Hertfordshire, only emerging to sing the occasional nursery rhyme and talk in the company of avuncular Michael Parkinson and Elton John.

Even now, as the Express shows, Posh strives to be unnoticed, going out wearing something that makes the paper announce: ‘Victoria covers up with a poncho (or is it a rug?)’

But whether clad in rug, balaclava or head-to-toe burkha, Posh still manages to look utterly fabulous.

In spite of the best efforts of her stylist and a sympathetic photographer, Posh stands out from the crowd.

But what of Brooklyn and Romeo, how are they handling the aftershock?

Well, the Mail says that even with the extensive security that surrounds their Beckingham Palace home – including a pool of flesh-eating piranhas (Posh swears by them) – mum and dad still worry about the kids.

So, just as soon as it’s ready, Brooklyn and Romeo will be spending much of their time in a £120,000 fort being erected within the palace compound.

The last word in child protection comes with turrets, a drawbridge, covers at least 100 square feet and has been assembled by ‘craftsmen’.

For any would-be kidnappers out there, the Express’s news is that with its roof terrace, decked areas and commanding view of the surrounding countryside, the fort is virtually impregnable.

Even the Mail and Express only have aerial shots of the fort taken from a great distance.

To gain access, you need to be a member of the family or respond in the correct way upon hearing the time-honoured challenge: ‘Who goes there, PR agent or one of daddy’s special friends?’

We keepers of the password have been sworn to secrecy, although we can say that answers guaranteed to be met with instant death (or a blast of Posh’s latest single) include ‘oink’, ‘oink-oink’ and ‘Rebecca’…’

Posted: 29th, November 2004 | In: Tabloids Comment | TrackBack | Permalink