What’s in a Name? is a quirky comedy following the lives of Robin Banks and I Steel. Their lives are monitored by Dr Ingrid Wright who records what the hapless pair get up to. After spells in prison, will their lives ever get back on the straight and narrow? Attempted robbery, kidnap and a bank heist make this a hilarious comedy with a surprise ending.
Excerpt from What’s in a Name?
“Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” Ingrid Wright looked at her two subjects. They were now twenty four years old. Robin now had a beard. Ingvar had a moustache. But apart from a bit more hair on their faces, they looked the same. The same grey uniforms, the same home with the same barred windows and the same tall guard with the black uniform and peaked cap walked around the visitor’s room. “So what has happened since I last saw you?”
Robin and Ingvar looked at each other.
“Well, have you been robbing banks, Robin?”
Robin shook his head.
“Have you stolen anything, Ingvar?”
“Mmm, sort of.”
“What do you mean, ‘sort of’, Ingvar?”
“We stole someone,” said Ingvar.
“You mean you kidnapped someone?”
Ingvar and Robin nodded.
“Tell me about it,” said Ingrid, ready with pen and paper to take down everything Robin and Ingvar said.
“Do you know a man called Lee Day?”
“Is he the owner of that newspaper, The Waterbridge Observer?”
“That’s the one,” said Ingvar. “Well we’ve seen his big house and his expensive cars so we assumed he had got a lot of money.”
“And you wanted some of it?”
“Right. We realised we weren’t very good at robbin’ banks,” said Robin Banks. “So we decided to kidnap Lee Day’s seven year old son, Jason.”
Ingrid continued to write in her notepad. She looked up so that either Ingvar or Robin would carry on.
Robin and Ingvar looked at each other. It was Robin that continued. “His father drives him to school in the morning and drives him home again in the afternoon. At first we thought it might be difficult to get him but then we found out a little secret of his.”
“Every morning at breaktime he climbs over the fence at the back of the playground and goes to the shops to buy sweets. All we had to do was to wait near the fence. At twenty five to eleven he hopped over and started walking to the sweet shop.”
“We thought it might be difficult to get him into the car,” said Ingvar. “We were wrong. As soon as he saw our car he said, ‘what a terrible car. My dad has got a much better car than this.’ Then he started to look around our car, looking at the dents, bumps and bits of rust. I was sitting in the driver’s seat. ‘How fast can this pile of junk go?’ he asked. I told him it could do eighty miles an hour. ‘Bet it can’t,’ he said. ‘Bet it can,’ I said. ‘How much do you want to bet?’ he said. ‘A pound.’ ‘You’re on,’ he said and jumped in the back.”
“I jumped in next to him and we were off,” said Robin.
Ingrid looked up from her notes. “What happened next?”
“Jason shouted ‘Stop!’”
“We nearly went past the sweet shop. I stopped outside and Jason wanted to get some sweets,” said Ingvar. “Luckily my car has got child proof locks so he couldn’t get out. I told him that Uncle Robin would get him some sweets.”
“I got out and went to the shop,” said Robin. “I came back with a big bag. I gave them to Jason and we set off for New Wellington.”
“To Ingvar’s mother’s caravan?” asked Ingrid.
“Yes, how did you know?”
Ingrid smiled. “A little bird told me.”
“So, after about ten seconds Jason shouts ‘Stop!’ again.”
“I didn’t buy any curly wurlies.”
“Curly wurlies. They are a kind of chocolate-coated toffee.”
“So what did you do?”
“We had to go back. He said he would be sick in my car if I didn’t go back to the sweet shop. This time he told Uncle Robin exactly what he wanted. Ten minutes later he got back into the car with ten curly wurlies, five sherbet dib dabs and two cans of tizer.”
“It took us ten minutes to get to New Wellington and another fifteen to find the caravan. Jason didn’t seem to notice that anything was wrong. He had even forgotten about our bet.”
“Then we arrived at the camp,” said Robin. “I looked at Jason. He had eaten five curly wurlies, two sherbet dib dabs and had drunk both cans of tizer. He opened his mouth to speak to me but it wasn’t words that came out, it was five curly wurlies, two sherbet dib dabs and two cans of tizer, all over my shirt and trousers.”
“So I took him into the caravan,” said Robin. “He did not look well. I put him down on the bed and he lay there moaning. I took off my trousers and shirt and started to wash them. Ingvar went off to telephone Lee Day.”
“I called the newspaper but they said he was still at home so I called him at home. He had only just woken up. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Mr Day,’ I said, ‘but we have just kidnapped your son, Jason.’ I thought he must be still half asleep.”
“Why did you think that?” asked Ingrid.
“He said, ‘thank you, thank you very much’ and then put the phone down. It was almost as though he wanted us to kidnap his son. Anyway, I went back to the caravan to find Robin outside in his underpants hanging up his trousers and shirt.”
“Well I had to, I couldn’t wear them wet, could I?” protested Robin.
“We wanted to have a secret hide away in the caravan. Not do anything that might look strange or different,” said Ingvar. “What do you do? You walk around in your underpants, in December! There are a few people who live in the camp and I was worried that they might call the police. We were quite lucky.”
Robin stared at Ingvar. “Anyway, Jason slept for about half an hour and then woke up. First of all he said, ‘Where am I?’ then he started laughing.”
“What was he laughing at?” asked Ingrid.
“At Robin in his underpants,” said Ingvar, chuckling.
Robin stared at him and Ingvar stopped. “Anyway, the next thing he said was ‘I’m hungry’.”
“He was still hungry after all those curly dib dabs and sherbet…?”
“Curly wurlies and sherbet dib dabs. Yes, but don’t forget they didn’t stay inside him.”
“So did he want more curly wurlies and ..other sweets?”
“No, he wanted chips with ketchup,” said Ingvar. “Unfortunately the nearest chip shop was in Waterbridge but Jason didn’t care. He said if he didn’t get any chips and ketchup he would scream and scream. It took me ten minutes to get there so within half an hour I was back at the caravan. I found that he had already got three pounds from Robin to keep quiet. I gave him the chips and the ketchup. ‘Hey! Uncle Ingvar, you’ve got the wrong kind of ketchup,’ he said. I looked at him. He looked at me. Then without a word I went out to get the right kind of ketchup.”
“When Ingvar came back, I went out to call Mr Day again,” said Robin. “I spoke to his wife who was quite angry that we had taken her son. The school had contacted her and she had contacted the police. I told her we wanted fifty thousand pounds in cash. I told her we would contact her again in an hour.”
“Of course, what we didn’t know at the time,” said Ingvar, “was that the police had a tape recorder fitted into Mrs Day’s telephone and they also had a big machine which traced our call. The woman at the sweet shop had remembered a strange man who bought a lot of sweets…”
“Curly dob dibs and …”
Ingvar nodded. “So the police were looking for a small green car somewhere near the public telephone box in New Wellington. Anyway when Robin got back, I had had enough of the horrible child. He complained that his chips were cold and he wanted a glass of milk and then another curly wurly and a sherbet dib dab.”
“He was half way through his curly wurly when he remembered our bet.”
“The one about the speed of your car?”
“That’s right,” said Ingvar. “So I thought we would kill two birds with one stone. We could win the bet and take Jason home. We had both had enough of him. He didn’t seem to realise he had been kidnapped. He only seemed interested in his sweets and the speed of my car.”
“We got back into the car and drove out to the road to Waterbridge. The road was almost empty. I put my foot down and we started to accelerate. We were doing just over seventy when we passed a police car parked at the side of the road.”
“Oh dear,” said Ingrid.
“Ingvar drove as fast as he could. Jason was shouting in his ear, ‘You’re only doing seventy five! Ha, you said eighty! Give me a pound! I want my pound!’”
“Trying to drive as fast as you can along the road between New Wellington and Waterbridge with Jason Day screaming ‘I want my pound’ in your ear and a flashing blue light not far behind you, is not easy. I was sure that the police wouldn’t understand if we told them we were taking Jason home.”
“So what happened?”
“Ingvar didn’t go faster than seventy five, Jason got his pound, the police caught us and we got six years.”
Ingrid coughed. “It has been very interesting talking to you both. Thank you very very much. I’ll see you again in another five years.”
“Bye,” said Robin Banks and Ingvar Steel together.
Do you want to know what happens to Robin and Ingvar in the end?
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