July 2012
You may remember in my last story I ended with the policeman at the stage door asking for me to accompany him to the police station. Well that was a case of mistaken identity.
I assured him it could not possibly be me as I am an upright citizen. That was another mistaken identity, but only I knew that.
I am not the person everyone thinks I am, but of the leader of a gang of elderly ladies who create havoc at vicarage tea parties. Doris, who looks demure on her Zimmer frame, is a wow at sussing out homes and their antiques, sometimes taking photographs for us to ascertain whether they are actually worth nicking. Henrietta has a very diverting laugh, keeping folks attention while Doris is doing her stuff. Ruby is a past archery champion and gets the line into the roof tiles enabling our younger friend to enter and opened the door of the big house for us. Dorinder still has the old, but very fast, Lamborghini of her late husband which we use for the getaway.
We have made a good living in this way, until Flavia, or Lavy as she is known to us, used her ill gotten gains to venture on a cruise on the new Elizabeth last June.
She was taken in by a handsome young man and the daft bat fell instantly in love. After bringing him home to her beautifully proportioned semi, he wondered how come she was able to be so richly turned out and travelling so expensively. He was obviously set to be the Lothario to a lady of money.
We all had everything we required but never showed excessive wealth at home because other folk may get suspicious, and it was mainly for fun anyway; a shot in the arm, being thought old and useless by many. Being afraid that Aristos, the boy friend, would leave her, she told him what we had been doing and could steal anything.
He then proceeded to blackmail others into taking part in 'the big one'.
A bank raid, he thought, dotty old girls charming themselves into the bank and one having a bad turn and needing the ambulance. He could steal a white van and hire a paramedic's uniform,
with a trolley carrying a gun and hold up the few cashiers and the guard on the door, while we emptied the safe and the knickers . . . drawers.
We were terrified of his idea but decided to play along until finding a way out of the situation without anyone getting killed. We discussed putting something nasty in his drink and dumping his body somewhere on the North Circular, but as the only car we had available was the Lamborghini decided it might attract too much attention. If we had to get him put away for a long spell – ten years would do . . . we wouldn't last much longer than that anyway!
Aristos had sussed out a small bank which, on the fourth Friday in the month, took in all the subscriptions of the U3A, reckoning on a couple of grand at least.
On the assigned day we agreed to meet him at the bank at 3.30 just before they closed. Before we left we had to tie Dolly on to her commode using clothes line and some of her late husband's braces around her hands – thought they might give her a bit of stretch to get to help if it all went wrong. We had written a note to the cashier that this was a holdup and to call the police when the young man was inside. We had to go with him as he had our friend as a hostage. The brave cashier sat quietly with her foot on the button by her desk as Harry came in, gun waving, and in his flurry shouting in Greek, 'Hands up and give us the money!'
She pushed the button, the bells started ringing and he was ready for the off but Ruby put out her foot and tripped him up and Henrietta jumped on his back. Well the police were there in two ticks whereby we collapsed in age old expressions of fright and tears.
Well it didn't turn out too bad, we rescued Dolly, and it was a good job we tied her up on the commode, as she had forgotten to tell us that she had a couple of glasses of wine before we left to give her courage, and the bank was ever so grateful, we even had a reward.
And to top it all, the U3A, bless their cotton socks, gave us honorary membership for as long as we live.