13thWR

NETTY AND SID / by Rachel Holt

There are two of them I remember the most. Sid because he was a mate of sorts. Still is I guess. And Netty. Well that was your mother's doing. Letting me and all our friends know what a fiend was in our midst. To use an expression of hers. And of course the shock and indignation of the press. Pensioners on the rampage one paper wrote. All because of people entertaining some fool notion that once you've got a few years under the belt butter wouldn't melt. Well more the fools them eh. Age is no barrier to misbehaving, specially not if you've got the inclination.

Netty Mcskimming. You couldn't make up a name like that. Specially when you find out what she was up to. Robbing the bloody tree society that's what. All those old ducks had no idea what hit them. She turned up one day out of the blue and well, they were always pleased to welcome new comers. Especially after she let it out she had been a Girl Guide leader and taught Sunday school for nearly 20 years. Not the most popular society you understand. Can't think what it was called. The Parnell Tree Lovers Society. Something like that. So anyway she joined. Just as an ordinary member mind. Always wore a blue felt cap. No matter what the weather.

Some of them now say they knew straight away. Thought there was something up as soon as they met. Mrs. Skully said afterwards that she never trusted her, not right from the start. Said that a self-respecting woman in her seventies does not smoke a pipe. Especially not at public gatherings. Silly trout that Skully woman. But maybe just this once she was right.

You see when the elections came up for members of the committee and secretary and treasurer and all that sort of thing. Well you know how people are all enthusiastic until they are called on to do something. Then oh boy you couldn't blink for gardens that needed tending or charity luncheons to organize. Your mum was thinking about offering but I talked her out of it. Take up too much time and all that running about. She was already starting to get a bit slow. So I put my foot down. Not that that would have made a shred of difference if she had been really set on it but I think she knew. Knew it would be too much. So when Netty offered to be treasurer everyone was more than happy to leave it up to her. Oh they talk about having their doubts now but there wasn't another soul prepared to offer their time for the job so they can't have been that anxious eh.

Ripped them off something wicked she did. The society used to have a big annual meeting once a year, made it into a bit of a do. Some of those tree society folk looked forward to this meeting most of the year. A highlight. Some of them don't have so much you know. Not many friends except those they meet through all the damn fool societies they join. Can see why though. Awful thing being lonely. Not so as I'd know myself but well, those that do. Your mother was always asked to make some bloody thing. Bacon and egg pie I think. Gorgeous that were. And the other, a pavlova. Every time your mum went anywhere that folks wanted feeding she was asked to make a pav. At Christmas her brothers always wanted Mary's pav. Some of the wives got a bit snotty about it. Thought they could do just as well. But those blokes knew. Always made it a bit special. Grated chocolate on top with those cherries.

You know the ones. In the packets. Don't mind those myself. Anyway at this meeting it came time to announce the years takings and spending. On all the good works. Works that old ducks had been giving Netty their blank cheques to contribute to. For her to fill in the appropriate amount. Well you can guess the rest. Bit of a shock it was. She had even managed to suss out a way of transferring money from the Society's accounts directly into her own. Well. Your mother was ropeable. Called it an affront to common decency she did, reckoned her faith in people was forever affected. And her calling herself a Christian she kept saying. As if that takes away all possibility of bad behavior. Well I see that it was not a good thing old Netty did. Took them all to the tune of $50,000. But still, gotta see the funny side I reckon. She got done in the end anyway. Thinks she's out on parole now. Maxwell from down the club reckons he saw her. Said he'd know that blue hat anywhere.

The other one was Sid. Dunno what he was about when he was younger but when I met him he was well on his way. Reckoned he did it because he was bored. Wanted a bit of excitement in his old age. Used to living the high life down in Rotorua he reckoned. Can't stand that place myself. The smell of it. Bloody rotten eggs. Your mother used to love it. Never could see why. She even reckoned she liked the smell. Used to make me take her down there and go and sit in those hot pools. Never did like that much either. All that steam. Made me far too hot. Never could understand what people like about getting themselves so hot. Should go and spend some time in the bloody desert and see if they like being hot. Still she liked it your mother. Guess some of those mud pools do put on a bit of a show.

Anyway. Where was I. That's right. Sid. Well by the time I met him he was living in a small flat in Mt Albert. Dingy place it was, behind a shop. Always smelt of something not quite right. Nothing the high life about it. Then he seemed to get into some money and he moved. Another flat but this time closer to the Balmoral shops. And then more money and he started shouting rounds down at the pub, bought some clothes and once me and him went sailing. Out on the harbour. Sid hired a small yacht and a man to sail it and we had a blast fizzing about Rangitoto. Only shame was some of the bigger boats. Those launch things. Full of wankers. Think its funny to come screaming towards you as if they're in a mind to run you down. Then veering off al the last moment and looking down as though you ought be grateful. Wankers. Anyway all this sort of spending took money but, well, I didn't trouble to think about it much. His own business where he gets his readies. And besides I wouldn't thank someone for meddling in my finances.

Anyway wasn't too long before he moved again. Only about 2 years. This time he went to a council flat. On the fourth floor it were. Moved from there in a real hurry. Not nine months before that happened. Asked him about that I did. They don't like moving you round so soon. Sid sorta smirked. Said he got sick of the place. Said he called them folks up and got them round. Told them he wanted to move. But why they asked. You can't, you've not been here a year. And Sid, well he says ah well is okay I guess. Not to worry. It's just... Just what they say. And Sid says well it's just the lights over there. In the evening when I can see them shining and they look so pretty. Well I get of a mind that I can fly. And quicker than you can say boo, they are saying OK Mr. Thomas perhaps its time we found you somewhere new, somewhere closer to the ground eh.

Give them what they want Sid said. What they expect. Leave them thinking I'm a daft old buggar. Shows who's daft in the end. You see there was a reason for all this moving and it weren't Sid hankering after a new view every year or so. Nope. The cunning old devil was fleecing the banks all over town. Been doing it for about ten years when he got caught. But, well ya gotta hand it to him keeping on going that long. Almost $70,000 in total.


Make a cup of tea will you Matthew, then I'll tell you how he did it. Gorgeous day out there you know. Been sitting inside here far too long. Why don't you wheel me out onto the balcony. I fancy a bit of a warm up. Not looking so good out here now. Not since your mother. Had a way with growing things she did. Hated having such a small area to make do with at first. But then she came round to the notion. No choice I spose. Awful thing not having choices. Still, we were much better off than most. Have to keep on telling myself. Sitting in this bloody contraption it takes a bit of reminding
sometimes.

Loved sweet peas she did your mum. Funny straggly plants they are, not much to look at to my mind but what a scent. She'd pull open the door in spring and I swear you could smell them all over the house. Pretty dainty flowers but it was the smell that got her. Reckoned the disease resistant varieties didn't pack half as much punch. All glitz with no substance she said and stuck to what she knew. She always was a bit of a sucker for a good smell. Out walking sometimes she would get down on her knees to sniff a rose. Then she'd ask me to do the same. I'd lean in, you know to have a sniff but she'd say, no, come on put your nose right in. Felt bloody stupid sometimes kneeling on the street or path down in the park with me nose parked in a lilac bush or some such thing but she never thought twice about it. Good
like that she was. Not noticing or caring about other folk and what they are thinking of because what's the point in paying them any mind.

Where was I. With Sid. Well it didn't last forever his caper but like I said it was a pretty good old while before it went bad for him. Told me once how he did it. At the banks. Used to walk in with his clothes all clean but not wearing anything flash. Let his walking stick drop as he was walking up to the counter. Make sure as many folks saw as he could. One of the ladies behind the counter might even come over and pick it up for him. Get sat down and say he wanted to open a bank account. Had never had one before he'd say.
And they would ask, in that voice they use, you don't know it yet but you will. Anyway they would ask, but why, why now after all this time. And he would speak of robberies, houses not being safe, a burglary opposite. And they would nod all full of concern and charitable feeling. And then they would ask, well how much money have you got sir. Not rude asking, slightly apologetic, an air of embarrassment. And old Sid would mutter under his breath all softly like but loud enough for them to hear, twenty thousand. And then he would put his hand to his mouth as if he had told a secret thing and say well that's enough of that, not something that should be spoken of. Well dead keen to get him signed up now they would be. Ask if he would like to start with a card, that he could have a master card or just a standard card. A standard card they'd say, you'd like that wouldn't you, a pretty card with penguins round the edges.

Stupid bastards. But Sid was laughing. All the way to the bank. Figured if all they saw when they looked at him was a feeble old man well then that was what he was going to give them. No mind about showing them otherwise, being stuck on wasteful principals. People just think what they want to think anyhow. No reason for him to care. Not when every one of them was bending over backwards to hand him access to their precious dollars.

The conning was why he had to keep moving see. Once he'd run up bills to the end of his card limit he'd move on. Start again, different branch, different bank. Names he used were a bit of fun too. Had some pets in his time Sid. Birds, cats, dogs and a couple of goldfish. And maybe a turtle. Not that I saw many of these. Knew a cat and a bird or two. One of his was the fattest cat I ever saw. Well not fat exactly. Like a rugby player, built for it you know. Paws the size of a small dog it did. Used to sit on Sid's lap and dangle over the edges of his thighs till her head was almost touching the ground. Anyway animals past and present lent themselves as inspiration for his alibis. Gregory the budgerigar, Mr. Snow after a dog I never met, Nuu after Nuu the crazed parrot who was the death of Gregory on account of his constant putdowns. Have to laugh when you think. Thousands of dollars being pilfered all over town in the name of dead bloody pets.

He got caught though. Still not really sure how. Could be someone dobbed him in or the banks finally got wise. Served some time he did, not much though. He's out now doing community service, has to go to the Ladies of the Divine
Poor every Tuesday and help with ground maintenance. Not much of a worker though Sid. Don't reckon those nuns will be too impressed. Still, don't s'pose they got to choose.

I asked him once, what he do it for, turn to crime so late, take such risks. That's when he said it was the excitement. Didn't get none anymore so decided to make some of his own. The adrenaline when he would go into the banks for the first time, well he reckoned it was like nothing he had had since the old days, being young and without cares in Rotorua. Trouble to fend off and women, and the games of poker and going to the races and whatever scams were to be had. After coming up to Auckland and getting on in years he got bored sitting round in small houses and flats. Only thing to contemplate was whether his dentures would last through dinner. Said he felt like he was rotting from the inside. Nothing to do, no one to see. Just four walls and a television and his last cat for company. What sort of a life was that for a fine young lad from Rotorua to have ended up with. That's the trouble with Sid I reckon. Had ideas about himself Sid, only they never matched up to what the reality was. Said that labour or learning a trade or such like was beneath his expectations. More like above his work tolerance. Still, feel a bit for him now. No one much to talk to, no family to see. Only folk visiting are the social welfare coming to see how he's adjusting. See whether he's taken a fancy for some more devilment more like. Rest of the time he's stuck sitting on benches waiting for time to hurry up.

Never could tell your mother such things but I can see the attraction. Oh I never would have myself. Still. Bet it was a great laugh. While it lasted. Having that money. Having a mission, having a plan.