Robbin’ Hoodies (a story for teenagers)

ROBBIN’ HOODIES. By Robert Grieve Black.

A short fiction story for teenagers.

Sherwood Park is a large sprawling housing estate on the east side of the M1 motorway. It’s a mix of council houses and low-cost private housing. Nearer to the city centre there are six fifteen-storey blocks of flats in an advanced state of decay. The locals call them the “six-pack”. The area has a very high rate of unemployment and drug abuse is well above the national average. The suicide rate is one of the highest in the country. It sounds like a nice place for young people to grow up.

There is a kids’ play-park wedged between two footpaths that connect the housing estate to the main road. The path to the left leads to the blocks of council flats and to the right the path leads to a Wimpey estate of about five hundred identical two-bedroom and three-bedroom semi-detached town houses. Most of these houses have an off-road parking space in front. Some have a small caravan parked in the space. Others have a beat-up old car perched up on jacks with the wheels missing. The garden area is communal which means overgrown with shrubs and weeds and littered with papers and other rubbish that has spilled from the wheelie-bins. Every third or fourth house sports a for-sale or to-let sign. Both of the pathways are littered with empty cigarette packets, fly-by plastic bags and dollops of dogs’ dirt. It sounds like a nice place to go for an afternoon stroll.

The kids’ swing park is littered with squashed Coca Cola cans, a few empty beer cans and two or three used hypodermic syringes. There are three swings, each of which hovers above a puddle of muddy water. There is a seesaw or rather three-quarters of a seesaw. There is a large wooden-clad roundabout with half its boards missing, originally green but now layered with rude graffiti; but it still turns. The soft, cork, bouncy surface of the play area has several big holes in it. It sounds like a nice place for the kids to play.

Today in the swing-park between the two paths there were three hoodies hunched over the tatty wooden roundabout. One of them was idly spinning it with his foot. They were really too old to hang around here but where else could they go? An old man, probably late seventies, walked his dog past the huddle of hoodies, scowled at them and muttered, “hooligans,” as he hurried by. The three kids just ignored him which seemed to annoy him more than if they had answered back.

“You big lads shouldn’t be in there. It’s for the little kids.” This time he grunted louder. The hoodies turned their backs to him and pulled up their hoods without being goaded into a response. They were used to the grumbles of the dog walkers. There used to be a youth centre but that got burned down and now there was nowhere for the kids to hang out except the street corners or the kiddies’ swing-parks. They were joined by a fourth member who skidded up on a BMX bike. He was bigger than the others and they greeted him as if he held some importance. They jumped down from the roundabout and surrounded the BMX. If the old man had hung about a bit longer he’d have seen that one of them was in fact quite small with short stumpy legs. He did a full spin summersault as he jumped off the broken spars of the roundabout. His name was John Little, a name which was inevitably reversed by the other kids in observance of his lack of stature.

“Hi Rob!” he greeted the newcomer and bounced over to exchange high-fives.

“Hi John!” Rob returned the greeting, swinging round to catch the next boy with a friendly mock-punch on his shoulder. The third member strolled over, pulled back the hood and planted a kiss on Rob’s lips revealing, that this hoody was in fact a girl with a freaky, red mop of hair.

“Where’s Tubby?” asked the boy on the bike.

“He’s got a job in McDonalds,” answered Will, the boy who got his shoulder punched. He was rubbing the shoulder in mock agony. He turned round to face Rob and you could see a small but prominent red scar on the side of his nose. It looked sinister but it was just the result of a hard clash in a game of football.

“What’s he doing, testing the burgers?” asked Rob. Tubby had earned his nickname. His real name was Peter.

“He’s on the chip fryer, except we’re not supposed to call them chips. They’re French fries. It’s a job and both him and his Gran are needing the money.” This time it was the little guy who provided the answer.

The girl with the freaky, red hair stood watching them as they chatted. Her name was Marion. Rob liked her but the others thought she was a bit mad. She was crazier than the boys on her BMX and sometimes she left her bike at home and kept up with the boys doing Parkour street-jumping. She just jumped through peoples’ gardens and got through the streets faster than the boys who had to cycle round. Her dream was to go to Paris where they jump from roof to roof. Although her and Rob were sort of boyfriend-girlfriend she liked “Little John”. He was from a family of circus performers, most of whom were little people. John could run, jump and summersault at amazing speed and he was the only one who could keep up with Marion when she was on a mad run. Right now Marion was watching Rob intently. She walked over and thumped him in the stomach.

“What’ve you got up your jumper?” she demanded.

“A box of chocolates. Want some?” Rob replied, pulling a box of Celebrations from under his hoody jacket.

“I thought you said you had no money,” snapped Marion. “You knew I wanted to go to the bowling and now you’ve spent your money on a stupid box of chocolates. No, I don’t want any.” She threw back her hood huffily and fluffed out her big mop of red hair. She really did look quite freaky.

“Don’t get mad Marion,” Rob defended himself, “I didn’t buy them.”

“Well you must have robbed them then. That’s even worse. I certainly don’t want your stolen chocolates,” she swung round defiantly, grabbed the bar of the roundabout, spun it angrily and jumped on board.

“Hey!” shouted little John, “that’s funny, you know. She’s Mad Marion. I’m Little John. You robbed the chocolates, Rob, so you’re a Robbin’ Hoody. Tubby’s frying the chips so we’ll call him Fryer Tub. We’re Robbin’ Hoody and his band of Merry Men from Sherwood Park.

Rob was about to answer but Will answered before him. “Oh, sod off John. That’s silly.” The truth was he was a bit miffed that John hadn’t included him.

John was unruffled by Will’s outburst and continued enthusiastically, “Don’t get shirty Will. You can be Will Scarlet.”

“How d’you work that one out?”

“Well you have a little scarlet on your nose.”

“Ha Ha!” mocked Marion, “How droll!”

“No, he’s right. Why not?” countered Rob. “We can go around robbing the rich people and helping the poor, just like Robin Hood.”

“Yeah! Like stealing boxes of chocolates from the shop? What did you do? Did you shoot an arrow and a string in the window? Or did you go in with your bow and arrow and threaten to shoot the old lady if she didn’t give you a box of candies?” Marion had still not forgiven him.

“I told you, I didn’t steal them.”

“OK. So they fell out of a tree in Sherwood Forest.” She kept up the verbal attack.

“Actually it wasn’t really very adventurous. I found them in the wheelie-bin behind the Eight-till- Late shop. They’re just a few days past their sell-by date but the chocolate’s still OK. Anybody want one?” He tipped the box over some of the more solid boards of the roundabout which by now had come to a stop. The others gathered round and munched enthusiastically except for Marion who sat alone on the other side. The boys thought she’d really taken the huff but she was deep in thought. Suddenly she jumped up.

“I’ve got it!” she declared.

“Got what?” chorused the boys.

“I know,” joked John, “she’s got toothache. That’s why she doesn’t want any chocolates.”

Marion ignored him and continued. “You know how Tubby lives with his Gran in one of the old Council flats in the six-pack blocks. Have you ever been in them? The walls are all black and the paper’s hanging off and they really smell inside. That Greek guy bought some of them off the Council for next to nothing and he was supposed to do them up and rent them but he never did anything except just rent them at a ridiculous price. He promised everybody that the workmen would move in but they never did.”

“That’s right,” agreed Little John. “I’ve been in Tubby’s flat and it stinks. There’s black mould in the bedrooms. If it’s raining and there’s a wind, the water just pours in the side of the windows. Tub’s Gran has been complaining about it since they moved in but Zorba the Greek just keeps fobbing her off.”

“Well. It’s worse now,” continued Mad Marion. “Tubby’s Gran stopped paying the rent and now he’s going to throw them on the street. He says if they don’t pay up by the end of the month he’s calling in the Bailiffs and they’ll get tossed out.”

“He can’t do that,” protested Will.

“Yeah. I think he can,” said Rob ruefully. “How much do they owe him?”

“As far as I know they haven’t paid for three months so it must be over a thousand quid,” Marion calculated.

“Who do we know that has that kind of money lying around?” asked Rob.

“Hold on,” said Will, “you’re not taking this Robbin’ Hoody thing seriously. We can’t just stroll in somewhere and nick a thousand quid, just like that.”

“Why not?” demanded Marion, “if we keep our hoods up and a scarf round our faces nobody’ll recognise us. And I know who has that kind of money.”

“It would have to be somebody that nobody likes,” insisted Rob.

“Well, I can assure you nobody likes this guy,” assured Marion.

“Well, spit it out. Who has a thousand quid just waiting there?” Will was getting drawn into the conspiracy despite himself.

“It’s logical,” smiled Marion, “Zorba the Greek. He’s got two guys who go round collecting all the rent. Nearly everybody pays cash so they must have a couple of thousand at least.”

“You mean we just go and take the money from the Greek and give it to Tubby’s Gran and she gives it back to the Greek to pay her rent. So he ends up just paying himself. I love it Marion. You’re a genius.” Rob scooped her up and spun her around. “What’s this guy’s real name, anyway? It’s not Zorba.”

“That’s what Tub’s Gran calls him but I think that’s from an old film or something. His name’s Adolphos Abanoudis,” answered Marion knowledgeably. “He’s got a moustache like Hitler. Why don’t we just call him Adolph?”

“OK,” agreed Rob, “but first let’s go and see Tubby. We’re only going to do this if he’s up for it and his Gran has to agree too. There’s no point us putting our necks on the chopping block if they don’t take the money but I like it. What do they call it? Poetic justice. You lot go and get your bikes and we’ll meet at McDonalds in twenty minutes.”

“Yahoo!” shouted John, “all for one and one for all!”

“Plonker!” scolded Marion, “that was the Three Musketeers not Robin Hood.”

“Who cares? See you at McDonalds” chirped John and he bounced off across the fence and up the path.

The others went off to get their bikes and Rob gathered up as many sweet papers as he could and stuffed them in the box which in turn was stuffed inside his jacket. Then he set off too, practising wheelies and jumps along the way. Lots of the kids had skateboards but he preferred his BMX. He nearly crashed into a greyhound dog that came bounding round a corner hauling his walker behind him. The walker didn’t look like a dog-owner, tall and skinny in a business suit and tie. He looked quite comical as he trotted along behind the dog holding tightly onto the extended lead and trying to keep his nice shiny shoes out of the mud and dog’s dirt.

“Watch where you’re going,” he shouted at Rob who skiffed past standing on the pedals.

“Watch where you’re going yourself, lanky,” Rob retorted defensively and kept on going without looking back, which was a pity because he’d have seen the lanky lad take a nosedive into the muck with the dog still hauling him along. Rob didn’t take any pleasure knocking people over but he had as much right to be on the path as the dog-walkers and he had learned long ago not to say sorry. If you say sorry, people never say OK. It just opens the door for them to throw more abuse at you. Anyway he was good on the BMX and as long as people stood still he could weave round them. It was just the people with dog-leads ten yards long that got into a tangle. He had forgotten the incident by the time he arrived at McDonalds. He was first to arrive and got there just ahead of John who somersaulted over the car park wall followed closely by Marion. Will came along a few minutes later in an anxious state.

“There’s a guy back there tried to set his dog on me. A blinking great greyhound, it was. It had a muzzle on so it couldn’t bite but it knocked me off my bike. I don’t know what was bugging the guy but he was all covered in mud. It’s funny. The guy had a suit on and it was a real greyhound. You know, the kind that do the races? What was he doing out along the path? If he lost that dog it would be worth a packet. Maybe he’s just dog-napped it.”

“What did he look like?” asked Little John.

Rob answered, “A tall lanky guy in a tin-flute. He did look a bit weird.”

“How d’you know?” fired Will.

“It was me that knocked him over. I didn’t bump him. I didn’t realise he’d gone down.”

“That was probably big Bono,” offered John. “He’s one of the Greek’s rent collectors and he drives his Merc for him as well. Adolph what’s-his-name has a couple of greyhounds. He races them in the big derbies. My Dad says he makes more from the dogs than he does renting flats and …”

“Anyway,” interrupted Will. “We came to see Tubby. Anybody know what time he finishes? He’s not going to be happy if we all go marching in on him while he’s working.”

“Here he comes now,” said Marion.

Sure enough Tubby was ambling down the steps with a takeaway bag in his hand.

“What happened Tubs?” Will teased him, “Did they give you the sack for eating all the French fries?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny! It’s my lunch break. I saw you all in a huddle out here and it’s not very busy so I asked if I could take my break. Anybody want some chips? I got a family bag. I get them half price. What’re you all doing here anyway?”

“Came to see you.” John answered with an air of importance. “We need your agreement.”

“Agreement? About what? If you want me to do anything it’ll have to be after work. I’ve just got this job and it’s a lot better than I expected so I don’t want to mess it up.”

“I still think it’s silly,” said Will. He was back to his doubtful self.

“What’s silly?” asked Tubby. “Everything we do is usually silly. What’s new?”

“Rob wants to be Robin Hood,” offered Marion, a bit more enthusiastic than Will. “He wants us all to be his Merry Men and help you and your Gran but he says you need to agree.”

“Help me and Gran, how?” asked Tubby, “What’re you planning Rob?”

“Yeah, well, maybe it is silly. Maybe Will’s right,” Rob was getting hesitant too.

Marion wasn’t going to let the doubts set in. “I think it’s a great idea and anyway somebody needs to teach him a lesson.”

Tubby stuffed a handful of chips in his mouth and mumbled, “Is anybody going to tell me what this is all about?”

“We’re going to rob the Greek,” Rob answered, more sure of himself this time. “We’re going to take his money and give it to you and your Gran so you can pay him his rent.”

Tubby stopped munching and stood with his mouth gaping open. It wasn’t a pretty sight as it was still full of chips. He didn’t answer but just stood with a silly look on his face.

“I told you it was silly. Even Tubby agrees,” claimed Will.

“No, I don’t agree. I mean, yes, I do agree. What I mean is; would you do that? I mean for me. I know we’re pals and all but that’s pretty big.”

“So you agree?” asked Rob, “we need to be sure before we do it. What about your Gran? Maybe you better check with her too. I’m not going to steal money just for myself. There has to be a good reason.”

“Gran’ll agree as long as we’re careful. She hates the Greek. She attacked him physically last time and scratched his face. I’ll double check, just in case, but I know she’s getting desperate. If we haven’t got the money by next week he’s going to send in the bailiffs.” Tubby began munching again enthusiastically.

“I thought you had till the end of the month?” queried Marion.

“Yeah but that was before Gran scratched half his face off. He said she was lucky he didn’t call the police and charge her with assault. And now he sends that big lanky Bono guy every day with a dog just to frighten her. She’ll agree. She’ll want to go with you.”

“Yeah! I can just imagine your Gran on a BMX. She’s like you Tubs, not exactly skinny,” laughed Marion. There was general agreement that Tub’s Gran would not be a useful accomplice.

Will was still doubtful. “Even if we all agree…I mean it’s a good idea to help Tub’s Gran but how are we supposed to get the money from him?”

“That’s the easy bit,” Marion reassured him. “I know where he’s got his office. It’s on the first floor so it’s easy to get up.”

“I don’t know.” Rob joined in Tub’s negative view. “We can’t just stroll along with a ladder and climb into somebody’s office. We’ll be seen for sure.”

“How come boys are always such a bunch of softies?” Marion jibed at her male peers. “Rob, you stand on Tub’s shoulders up against the wall. Will goes in front and then you and him need to clasp your hands and punt John up on top. I take a run at you and jump up into Will’s hands and he punts me into your hands and you punt me up again onto John’s shoulders. The speed keeps me moving and I catch the window. I’ll need a jemmy to force the window and I’ll pull John up after me.”

“D’you think that’ll work?” asked Rob.

“Have you done it before?” asked Will.

“She’s right,” said Tub. “We are a bunch of softies. I couldn’t jump over a puddle if my life depended on it and you two don’t believe Marion can really jump. Have you never seen her? She could be a champion at that Parkour thing. Come and show them Marion.” He clasped his hands ready for a punt-up and steadied himself to take her weight.

Marion laughed, did a little pirouette then ran forward with three measured strides. On the third stride she stepped up into Tub’s clasped hands, pushed off and leapt clean over his head. She began her forward roll while still in mid-air and the momentum carried her into a collision course with Rob. But instead of crashing into him she leapt up again, placed her hands on his shoulders and did a leapfrog over his head.

There was a chorus of “wow!” Marion had made her point. They agreed she could jump.

“The thing is we need to do it fast. That’s why a ladder’s no good,” she told the boys. “What about you John? John replied by doing six forward somersaults; six flips in rapid succession.

Later that evening they assembled quietly behind the Greek’s office. The ground floor was a closed up shop so there was no one around. Both the rear door of the shop and the entrance door to the office were protected with a roll-up metal shutter and both were firmly padlocked. Marion had an iron jemmy wedged inside the front of her hoody jacket. The hooked end of the jemmy protruded from the top of the jacket.

“That’s not very good,” observed Rob. “If it doesn’t rip off my face it’ll rip off one of your tits.”

“There’s no need to be vulgar,” she snapped. “Where am I supposed to put it?”

“Leave it here on the ground and we’ll pass it up.” Will provided the impromptu solution.

“OK then. You all get in place quick,” commanded Marion as she laid the jemmy on the ground. She walked away a few paces and stood stretching onto her toes like an athlete preparing for the 100m. Will helped Rob to climb onto Tub’s shoulders and then stood in front clasping his hands. John was small and light so he was easy to throw up.

Marion bounced on her tip toes a few more times and then surged forward. One, two, three, up and she was grabbing wildly at the window sill. She stifled a scream as the rough concrete bit into her fingers and she held on. It was going to be more difficult than she thought. She swung her foot to the left and made contact with a drainpipe and managed to manoeuvre the foot onto the outlet from the office. John had to use both hands to steady her right foot and they nearly all lost balance as he let go one hand to pass her up the iron jemmy. There was no space between the two sides of the window and Marion fought desperately to force the jemmy into this non-existent space. Without success she tried a different approach, straining all of her body to reach up to a small space in the top of the window. Her left hand was aching and she struggled to hold on. Luckily the jemmy was the type with an angled “V” on the end for extracting nails. This angle gave her some leverage and with one final push the window-catches snapped and the windows swung inwards. She almost smashed the panes of glass as she tumbled inwards. She leaned out and pulled her little companion in the window.

It had taken longer than planned so they had to move fast. Moving quickly around the room Marion opened drawers and doors looking for a cash-box. When she found it, the lock was open indicating that there couldn’t be much inside. Sure enough, there were two ten-pound notes and a few coins. She took one ten-pound note and put the box back in the drawer. She moved around the room quickly, convinced that somebody crooked like the Greek would not keep all his money in the bank. John was standing looking at a large photo of a greyhound on the wall. “We haven’t got time to admire his greyhounds, “she snapped angrily.

John defended himself, “I was just wondering about maybe what’s behind it.”

As she’d seen in all the gangster films Marion moved the picture to the side and found a small safe built into the wall. It was a modern type which needed a four or five-digit code to open. The expletive that emitted from her mouth was more vulgar than Rob’s protective comment about her breasts. The safe looked like it had just been fitted recently. Marion knew there was no way she could open it. She went over to the window and called to the boys that they were coming down. She used the jemmy to remove what was left of the flimsy window-catches and stuffed them in her pocket and then threw the jemmy down to the boys. She lifted little John out the window and placed him on Rob’s shoulders. Rob lost his balance and the circus act came tumbling down leaving Marion stranded in the office. She climbed out nimbly onto the sill and swung her left foot out once more to get a foothold on the drainpipe. She used her fingertips to pull the windows into the closed position and slid herself down the pipe. As long as there wasn’t a strong wind, it would be a few days before the window opened.

As she slid off the pipe at the bottom Tub quipped, “You look drained.”

Marion missed his feeble joke.

“I’m knackered,” she replied, opening and closing her fingers in an effort to get the blood flow back. “That was useless. He’s got a wall-safe. We need to find another way.”

“You don’t give up. Do you?” questioned Rob.

“If we give up, Tub and his Gran are sleeping under the bridge next week. There must be another way. Let’s go to McDonalds for a committee meeting.”

“We haven’t got any money.” Will protested.

Marion waggled the tenner between her fingers. “Who hasn’t got any money?”

They dispersed in their usual way; Rob on his bike, the boys on their skateboards. Marion was too tired to do her Parkour street run and asked Rob for a “backy”. They wobbled along the pathway. Rob was standing up to pedal while Marion was perched precariously on the seat with her feet splayed out on both sides. They were nearly at their destination when Bono the collector came into view hauled along by the energetic greyhound. The inevitable happened. Marion’s foot caught in the dog lead and the bike tipped over catching the smart-suited Bono in the ankles. Down he went letting go of the lead. The greyhound sensed his freedom and raced off. Rob abandoned Marion and the lanky dog-walker sprawled out in the lane, jumped on his BMX and sped after the dog. Marion picked herself up quickly and found renewed energy to Parkour her way to McDonalds. Twenty minutes later Marion, Will and Tub were munching burgers and slurping cokes when in rushed Rob. “Come and see what I’ve got,” he invited. “You’re never going to believe it.” They scooped up their nosh and went to see what was exciting Rob. Outside in the car park, tied to Rob’s bike was a puffing greyhound. As they approached, the dog looked up at Rob and his mouth began to drool.

“How did you catch him?” asked Will. “I know you’re fast on that bike but not as fast as a greyhound. Rob put his hand in his hoody pocket and took out a couple of chocolates. You lot wouldn’t eat them but Speedy here doesn’t mind if they’re out of date.” He tossed a chocolate in the air and the dog’s jaws snapped around it.

“What are you going to do with him?” asked Will.

“I’m not sure if it’s called dognapping or extortion. I reckon he’s worth a couple of thousand quid. The Greek’s crazy about his dogs and the dog races.” Rob bubbled with excitement.

“The Greek’s crazy, full stop!” exclaimed Tub. “He’ll kill us if he knows we have his favourite dog.”

“That’s why we need to move fast. We need to hide him,” said Rob.

“My Gran’s,” offered Tub.

“You’re Gran’ll never agree. He’ll mess her place up and do his business all over the house,” argued Marion. “We can’t ask her to do that.”

Tub got a bit agitated. “Listen Marion, we don’t have time to argue. Like you said yourself, if we don’t get the money soon we’ll be sleeping under the bridge. So my Gran’s not going to mind a bit of dog poo for a couple of days. No more arguing, let’s get moving. It’s getting dark. Let’s move it before the street lights come on. I’ve got a key so it doesn’t matter if she’s not in. There’s one of those big derbies tomorrow so Adolph probably has this dog entered. He’ll pay up but we need to have a plan. Come on! Let’s go!”

Rob did a chocolate bribe to Tub’s house with the dog drooling all the way.

Gran was at home and she screamed with laughter when they told her their plans. She hated her landlord with a vengeance. She would keep the dog and if anybody asked she’d say she found it wandering on the street. If the Greek wasn’t happy she’d be no worse off than she was now.

“Have you got his cell-phone number, Gran?” asked Tub.

“It’s in the book on the kitchen shelf son but he’ll recognise your voice. It’s best if one of the others does the phoning. What about the lass here? Can you do a posh voice love?”

Marion thought for a moment before answering, “Yeah, but Will can do a really deep voice like a London gangster. My voice always sounds young and if he thinks it’s kids he’ll find out it was us. If Will uses his gangster voice he’ll think it’s for real. Can you do it with a Geordie accent, Will? That would really convince him.”

“I can do Liverpool Scouse better,” said Will.

“OK. I’ve got the number,” said Tub. “Let’s do a tour of the phone boxes and see if there’s still one that works. Have we got enough coins?”

“Yeah. I’ve still got change from the tenner.” Marion assured them. “But why not just use one our mobiles?”

“Nya, nya, nya! Who’s the goofie now?” sneered John. “Then he’d really know who we are.”

But Marion was already on the move and didn’t hear him.

The first phone box had the handset ripped out; the second had the money box jammed; the third stank of vomit and urine so they didn’t even try it; the fourth had been refitted with a shiny new box and handset that contrasted sharply with the door that had most of the panes of glass smashed. But it worked so they were all set to make their first call.

“Keep it short and don’t answer any questions,” instructed Rob.”

Will lifted the handset from its cradle and shoved some coins in the slot. The phone was lifted at the other end but nobody spoke. Will took a deep breath and spoke, “We’ve got your dog. Two thousand in cash if you want it back. You’ll get a call tomorrow to tell you what to do.”

“You got my greyhound. Who the hell are you? Where you got my dog? You treat him good or I kill you. You tell me now.”

Will struggled to keep his nerve. He had to keep the menace in his voice. “You’ll get a call on this number in the morning nine o’clock. I’ll tell you what to do and where to go. Just make sure you have the money or your hound is dead.” He hung up and turned to Rob. “How did I do? D’you think he’ll fall for it?”

“You did great but I just thought while you were speaking. What are we going to tell him in the morning? We need to get the money from him and give him back the dog without him seeing us.”

Will swelled his chest proudly. “I’ve got a plan. I think it’s brilliant.”

“Well you would. It’s your plan.” Rob answered defensively. “Is it a secret or do the rest of us get in on it.”

“Right, first of all we get him to go to the primary school with all the portacabins for classrooms. One of us has to be watching to make sure he’s there and that’s when we take the dog from Tub’s flat and tie it onto the drain pipe that Marion climbed down. It’s a synch. If anybody sees us we can say we found the dog and were taking it back.”

“That sounds good but at the moment you’ve got the Greek sitting in his car at the primary school. How do we get the money?”

“That’s the brilliant bit. He throws it onto the roof of one of the portacabins. After he’s gone we nip through the hole in the fence and do the same as we did tonight. Marion can do her famous run and jump and get onto the roof, grab the money and we all scarper. What d’you think?”

“What do I think? I think it’s like you said, brilliant. Let’s get back and tell the others.”

Back at Tub’s flat they set out the plan for the morning. Will would go to the phone box and he’d also need a cell-phone. Marion and John would go to watch the school and make sure they knew which classroom had the money on top. They would need a cell-phone too so they could phone and say everything was OK. Then Rob and Tub would take the dog and tie it to the drainpipe at the Greek’s office. They would need a phone too so they could call Will. Then with everything in place Will could call the Greek and tell him to come back to his own office. Then they’d all have to move fast and get the money off the roof.

Everybody agreed that Will’s plan was brilliant.

Next morning, they put the plan into action with Will summoning up his best Scouse-gangster-type voice. He was surprised by the Greek’s readiness to comply with instructions. He was obviously keen to get his greyhound back. Within a few minutes little John called Rob to say that the packet was on the roof of the first cabin next the main building of the school. That was when they realised the flaw in their plan. What if there was just paper in the packet instead of money? There was nothing they could do now except press on with the plan and hope the Greek had complied. Why shouldn’t he? He didn’t know that they planned to return the dog before they had the money. Rob and Tub left the flat and moved quickly in the direction of the office. Rob’s chocolates were now finished but they had cut up a Mars bar to entice the dog along. They took a quick look round before approaching the rear of the office then ran over, tied the animal to the drainpipe and gave him the last piece of Mars bar. Then they made a quick exit and called to Will so that he, in turn, could call the Greek to tell him the whereabouts of his beloved hound. Then they all converged on the primary school. This time they reversed the order a little and it was John who took the final leap as Marion punted him onto the roof. He grabbed the packet and slid back down the human ladder. They then ran well clear of the school before gathering in a huddle to check the contents of the packet. It was a page torn out of a racing magazine wrapped round a bundle of money with a couple of pieces of cello tape to seal the ends. But the main thing was that it was in fact real money, two thousand pounds just like they had demanded.

John crumpled the wrapper and was about to throw it into the bushes when Marion shouted, “Stop! Give me that paper.” She took the paper and flattened it out on the ground. “Look at this!” she exploded gleefully. At the top of the page in ballpoint pen was written the number 818283. “Why would he write that number like that? It’s the code for his safe.”

“Who’s the plonker again?” said Will scornfully. “You don’t think he’s daft enough to write down the code.”

Marion stuck to her guns. “Think about it. We tell him he needs £2000 for next morning. He doesn’t have time to go to the bank and I don’t suppose that even a rich guy like him has that kind of readies in his pocket. So what does he do? He goes to his safe. It’s a new safe and he’s probably only opened it a couple of times before. He doesn’t want to mess around because he wants the dog back. I mean… look at the number; it’s a six-digit code.”

Little John had been inside the office and seen the safe. “She could be right. It was one of those new safes and the plaster was rough, like it had just been put in. There’s only one way to find out and if she’s right there’s probably more money there.”

“Listen guys,” said Tubby. “You’ve done enough. We’ve got enough to get him off our backs. My Gran’s going to be over the moon. You don’t need to risk it going back in again.”

“Why don’t we take a vote?” suggested John. He took a stub of pencil from his pocket and tore the paper into pieces. “Just put yes or no on your bit of paper and see what happens.” He scribbled on his piece, folded it and passed the pencil to Marion. They all handed their folded papers to Rob who opened them to deliver the verdict.

“Everybody’s in favour except one,” he announced.

“That was me, “said Tub.

“Does that mean you’re not coming?” asked Will.

“Of course not,” Tub replied indignantly. “If you’re going back, I’ll come too. It’s just like I said. I’m happy with what you’ve done already. I’d hate it if anybody got caught.”

“Remember the window doesn’t have any catches,” Marion reassured them. “We can be in and out in two minutes.”

“We need to find out the time of the dog racing so we can be sure that the Greek won’t be there,” suggested Will.

“OK,” agreed Rob taking command of the situation. “Let’s all split up for now and we’ll meet at the swing park in an hour. You get the time of the races Will.” With that they all bounced and skated off in different directions. Tub went home to give his Gran the money.

They met again within the hour and Will was armed with the race times. “The races start at twelve o’clock”, he said, “but all the dog-owners have to be there an hour before. It’ll take him half an hour to get there so he’ll leave about ten thirty or maybe earlier if he has to buy petrol or anything so I reckon the coast is clear if we go in the next half hour.” They chatted for a while and then set off for the Greek’s office.

Marion proved to be right on two counts. It only took two minutes to get in and out and the 818283 number was indeed the code to open the safe. Inside was a shoebox full of cash. About half of it was counted into bundles and the other half was just a pile of loose notes. Little John looked at the notes and then at Marion. “If we take all this, Adolph is going to explode,” he said. “He’ll know it’s gone the minute he opens the safe and he’ll call the police. If we just take some of the loose notes he might never know. I don’t think it’s counted.”

“Agreed” was Marion’s instant reply, as she scooped up about a quarter of the notes. She opened up her hoody jacket and shoved them inside her T-shirt. Then she shuffled and ruffled the remaining notes to bulk them up. She closed the safe and re-locked it with the same number and they both made a quick exit by the window. Marion was careful to pull the two windows together before she made her descent.

The gang of “merry men” plus Maid Marion made off back to the swing park. Marion emptied the money onto the roundabout and they all started counting. They had three thousand, four hundred and eighty pounds. That was nearly seven hundred each.

“We can’t keep this,” said Will seriously, “and we can’t spend it either. It’s not what we agreed. I know it would be great. I’d get a new laptop for sure. But this was all a “Robin Hood” thing. We agreed to rob the Greek to help Tub and his Gran because he was treating them like rubbish but we fixed that. He deserves to lose this too so I’m not bothered that we took it but it’s not ours.”

“We can’t take it back. Can we?” little John retorted. “I mean…I suppose we could but that would be crazy. We’d probably get caught. But Will’s right as usual. This is not what we agreed.”

Rob was sitting on the roundabout looking thoughtfully at his feet. “What do you think Maid Marion? It was my idea but it was you that suggested the Greek and up to now it’s all gone like clockwork. Will and John are right but what are we going to do with all this money? We have to do something soon or somebody’s going to come along and see us.”

“Why don’t we take it to Tub’s house and ask his Gran to keep it for us till we decide. Maybe she’ll have an idea. I honestly don’t know. I don’t have any problem keeping the money but I understand what the rest of you are saying. We agreed to help Tub and his Gran and this money is something else. But we have to get moving. Here comes that old guy with the squidgy little dog who moaned at us the other day.” She stuffed all the money quickly into the front of her T-shirt.

There was no further discussion. They all accepted the logic of what she said and made their way to Tub’s flat. His Gran was at home and welcomed them all in. Tub explained their predicament. His Gran frowned. “You shouldn’t have gone back. In fact, you shouldn’t really have gone into the office in the first place. I know that I said yes and I don’t want to sound ungrateful. What you did for me and Peter was special and we both appreciate it but if you got caught we’d all go to jail. We wouldn’t need the flat then.” And then she laughed and continued. “Maybe we could all go one of those luxury cruises.”

They all looked at her with their mouths open.

“I was just kidding,” she held up her hands in defence. “Actually I have an idea. I think you might like it. Do any of you watch the One Show? You know that programme with the nice boy and girl and all the famous people who come and chat. It was on last night and they’re doing that rickshaw thing again this year.” She stopped and waited for a reaction.

There was a chorus of, “What rickshaw thing?”

“You know where they go from one end of the country to the other collecting money for Children in Need. They’ve got one of those bikes with a seat on the back like they used to have in China. Everybody comes out to wave and cheer and lots of schools and shops and things have collected money for them.” Gran continued excitedly. “Well, tomorrow it’s supposed to pass through here about a mile away. The Mayor and everybody’s going to be there and there’s a brass band and all.”

“You mean we just go and give them all the money?” Marion asked incredulously. “What’ll they do with it?”

Tub jumped in to defend his Gran. “Come on Marion! You must’ve seen it. They do it every year, collecting money for kids that need help. It’s on the One Show every night at tea time. It’s part of PUDSEY for Children in Need”

“I never heard of it,” Marion insisted, “but if the money goes to kids in need, I’m all for it. What about the rest of you?”

“Let’s have a show of hands,” said Rob.

Every hand went up in favour including Gran’s.

The famous rickshaw with all its entourage of TV crew passed through the town just after lunch. Marion made sure she was well hidden in the crowd by the roadside and as the procession passed she threw a brown envelope into the rickshaw. With the job done she slipped away discreetly. The others had stayed away in case they were seen and somebody started asking where the money had come from. In the evening they got together at Tub’s house to watch the One Show.

“Another tough but wonderful day on the Rickshaw,” said the reporter as they played back the film of the day’s cycling. “The number of people who came to cheer us on was simply incredible and as usual it has been matched today by the generosity of the people in the towns and villages. We’d like to say a special thank-you to local businessman Mr Abanoudis from Sherwood Park who generously donated three thousand, four hundred and eighty pounds.”

They all turned to look at Marion who was grinning from ear to ear.

“You didn’t?” exclaimed Rob.

“I did,” smiled Marion.

“He’s going to go mental,” said Gran. “But it serves him right. And these kids need a lot of help. Three cheers for Robbin Hoody and his Merry Men!”

“And don’t forget Maid Marion,” little John reminded them. “There’s no way we could have done it without her.”

“I think she’s Mad Marion”, said Tubby. “But she was great. Maybe we should have kept some of the money to send her to the parkour competitions in Paris.”

I have lots of quirky stories and poems in Medium. Take a look. https://rgblack.medium.com/