Willie McHaffie and the Sundance Kid

A short bank Job written from three different viewpoints

Part One

Willie looked around him, his heart thumping in his chest. There he was standing in a bank with a blue and white Umbro sports bag at his feet. A sports bag which contained a shiny black metal sawn off shotgun.

With the sun shining outside, the bank seemed relatively dark and cool inside. It was all so peaceful in here Willie thought. Air conditioned. He could be in here paying a direct debit. A standing order. But no, he wasn’t in here paying a direct debit or a standing order, he was in here to hold up the joint.

Enough. He needed to calm down. Deep breaths. That’s it. Count to ten. It’s no big deal. Just a bank job. Happens all the time. It was work. Yeah, that’s it, just a day at work. No problem. Everything under control. He hummed a tune to himself La di da di da... He looked across at Stevie Boy. Realising Stevie Boy was his partner in crime, he was immediately overcome by panic again.

Holding up a bank with Stevie Boy. Definitely one of the worst ideas he’d ever had. He should have done it himself. No he couldn’t he remembered. He couldn’t drive. Stevie Boy could. But now as feared, Stevie was going to blow the whole thing. Though maybe Willie had just heard Stevie wrong. He decided to ask again.

‘You ok? I said we’re gonnae do this now yeah?’

Again Stevie Boy gave the wrong answer. ‘Naw’

Willie tried to keep calm. ‘Whit dae ye mean “naw”?’ he whispered through clenched teeth.

He could see Stevie Boy was sweating. Trembling. Not good. ‘Ah cannae dae it Willie, ah just cannae. This isnae me. Ah’m no a fuckin’ bank robber, ah’m just no’

Willie took a leaflet from the wall. On the front, arms around each other, an extraordinary happy and healthy couple smiled back at him . ‘Need a mortgage? No problem. Great loans available. Ask at counter for details’

‘Listen to me Stevie, everything’s fine. Think of the money. Think of the money! We deserve this. Five minutes work. Ye can buy anything. A new car. A fucking bus. Ye can get out of Cambuslang. Travel the world, do....’

Stevie Boy turned round, a puzzled look on his face ‘Whit’s wrang wi’ Cambuslang’

‘Eh?’

‘Whit’s wrang wi’ Cambuslang’ repeated Stevie.

‘Nothing’s wrong with Cambuslang. Stay in fucking Cambuslang. Ah’m just saying...’

‘Good’ said Stevie ‘Cambuslangs awright by the way!’

‘Listen, fine, brilliant, Cambuslang is fucking heaven ok? Now we’ve got that sorted, can we get back to why ye’re here? All ye have to do is to go up to the counter and hand over the note...’

‘What note?’

Willie bent down and placed his head onto the counter. It felt nice and cool against his temple. He wondered how much it was for driving lessons these days.

Part 2

With their backs to the tills. Willie and Stevie Boy stood at the counter looking out onto the street. The bank was quiet. Just a couple of people in. The dynamic duo kidded on they were filling out bank slips. Acting it. It was hard to tell which bank robber was more nervous. Well in truth, you could tell it was Stevie Boy because even from behind you could see his body trembling.
Willie could see this too. He knew fine well it was a bad idea choosing Stevie as the Sundance kid to his Butch Cassidy, but what the fuck. Too late now.

Stevie Boy for his part, knew he was no Sundance Kid. A bank robbery? A fucking bank robbery? How could he no just say naw? Always ended up saying aye to Big Willie. ‘A bank robbery ye say Willie? Oh aye no fucking problem. Want tae do a jeweller‘s as well. Make a day of it?’ Stevie Boy had to get himself some new friends.

Still Stevie wisnae that daft. He couldnae say naw to Big Willie but well he could fuck the job up in other ways. Or at least that’s what he thought. He forgot the ski masks on purpose. Knowing for sure that Willie couldnae go ahead with the robbery unless he was a total nutjob. Then of course Willie turns out to be a total nutjob and now Stevie Boy’s gonnae become a reality TV star on Crimewatch UK.

It was all his sister’s fault. Daft Linda. Why couldn’t she have married a normal cunt? An accountant. A bus driver. Sumdae who worked in a bank and no fucking robbed it. And now the twat was slagging off Cambuslang? Aye very good. Stevie wisnae a bank robber. He just wisnae. But neither was Willie. Willie was just a nutjob. End of story. No masks? Let’s go home and watch Deal or No Deal. But naw, no Willie. No Big Willie Al Pacino McHaffie. He wanted to go on.

The total nutjob was talking again. ‘...All ye have to do is hand over the note’

Willie felt the note in his trouser pocket. ‘What note?’ he said.

Part 3

Outside the window of the bank, it was a bright sunny day. On Tuesday last it had suddenly turned from winter to summer. Whereas before last Tuesday people were wearing scarfs and gloves, after last Tuesday they were wearing shorts and sunglasses. Willie and Stevie however, still wore scarfs and gloves. To be fair though, they were going to rob a bank. More cover than less seemed a good idea when robbing a bank.

They stood at the counter looking out onto the street. Their backs were turned to the bank tellers. A Blue and white Umbro sports bag rested beside Willies feet. Both Willie and Stevie held a blue plastic pen attached to the desk by a cheap silver chain. They stood in half motion. Looking down holding the pens. Acting it.

People outside the bank queued at the cashpoint. A young woman, well dressed and West End looking stood holding the hand of a young girl. She was a serious looking young girl with a permanent expression of concentration on her face. Perhaps it was because the young girl was deaf.

She had developed the unnerving habit of concentrating on the movements of strangers lips. The two men standing at the window inside the bank were no exception. She watched. Trying to make out what they were saying. It was hard. They had strong accents. And they talked out the side of their mouths. The young girl found them funny. But she didn’t smile. They were arguing. They swore a lot. ‘Naw’ one of the men said.

Her mother noticing her daughter staring, followed the gaze of her daughter to the two strange men inside the bank. In turn other people arriving in the queue noticed the woman and child staring and they in turn joined in. It was as if the bank window had become a huge television with Willie and Stevie stars of the silent screen.

The crowd continued to watch as one of the men placed his head on the counter. The other man just looked down at him. Someone in the crowd giggled. Then turning and looking out the bank window Stevie suddenly noticed the whole queue of people at the cashpoint staring back at him. Stevie stared back in surprise. He smiled as best he could. Casual like. Still staring he nudged Willie. Willie tired and finally, almost ready to accept defeat in his attempt to rob the bank, slowly looked up.

There was a crowd of people staring back at him. He straightened up immediately. A puzzled look on his face. He too couldn’t help but stare back. A staring contest began. Willie and Stevie against the rest of the world. But not for long. Willie looked away. He was beaten. Totally, absolutely beaten. He picked up the sports bag. ‘Come on Sundance’ he said ‘Time to go’. Outside the window of the bank, the young girl smiled.