“Yes!” said Morrissina as Barry stared at her, dumbfounded. She clapped her hands together. “Barrissina! Doesn’t it just sound divine!”
“I’m really glad you like it,” said Vlad.
“You’ve got some lovely middle names as well,” said Morrissina.
“They’re in the small print,” added Vlad.
Barry looked at the document. Squinting, he realised that the whole thing said:
I, Barry Bennett, hereby renounce all claim to the name Barry Bennett, and any desire to ever again be called Barry Bennett, and accept fully the name…
“Orange?” said Barry.
“Like the fruit!” said Morrissina.
“Yes, I’ve heard of it,” said Barry. “Bunny-Cutie?”
“So sweet!”
“Piddlypiddlypiddly?!”
“That was just something I threw in,” said Vlad. “I’m crazy like that!”
“So…” said Jonty, handing Barry a pen – it was covered in diamonds, like Vlad’s aCommunicator and steering wheel, and felt heavy in his hand – “all you need to do is sign on the dotted line.”
Vlad and Morrissina held the parchment up between them. Vlad pointed. “Just there.”
Barry heard a murmur in the crowd. It sounded like: “Sign it.” And then, less like a murmur and more like a chant: “Sign it. Sign it. Sign it.”
“Er… look,” said Barry. “It’s true – although I have no idea how you found out – that I don’t really like the name Barry. But now I think about it… I don’t know that I actually want to get rid of it. It is my name after all.”
“Sign it. Sign it. Sign it,” went the crowd, louder every time.
“And also, if I was going to get rid of it, I’d like a cool name. Like Lukas. Or Jake. Or…”
“Dirk?” said Vlad.
Barry thought about this. “No, not really.”
“Sorry,” said Vlad. He put his mouth to the microphone. “Are you saying that…” The crowd stopped chanting. “…Dirk isn’t a cool name?”
There was a mass intake of breath. Barry could feel hundreds of eyes upon him. “Er… no, it isn’t…”
The crowd roared. But this time it wasn’t a good roar. It was a bad roar. It was a bad roar completely covering up Barry’s next words:
“…not for me at any rate… I’m sure, other people might think so…”
“Look, I’ve had enough of this,” said Morrissina, not smiling for perhaps the first time since Barry had met her. “Sign the bloody form.”
“Darling,” said Vlad. “That’s a swear.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Well, technically it is,” said Barry.
The crowd started up again, low and threatening: “Sign it. Sign it. Sign it.”
And this time, Vlassorina, together, joined in: “Sign it. Sign it. Sign it.” They moved towards Barry, one “sign it” at a time.
“Sign it.”
“Sign it.”
“Sign it.”
Eventually,
was right in front of Barry’s eyes and “Sign it. Sign it. Sign it” was all he could hear in his ears. He shut his eyes and tried to stop his ears, but it was no good. He opened his eyes.
Down below, cameras flashed. Among the flashes, for a second, Barry thought he saw, lit up, the faces of the man and the woman who had been outside, looking at him with concern and hope and that something else he couldn’t put his finger on. But it was a long way down and he couldn’t quite make out their faces properly.
Barry turned back to the parchment.
“All right! I’ll sign it!” he said.
The crowd roared – a huge roar and back to a good roar. Vlassorina looked at him with joy. They pushed the parchment closer towards him. He lifted the pen and wrote.
“Hip hip hooray!” said Vlad.
“Thank you, Barrissina!” said Morrissina.
“That’s OK,” said Barry. “Why don’t you read it out loud?”
“I will,” said Morrissina. “In fact, we’ll do it together.” They turned to face the crowd.
“I, Barry Bennett, hereby renounce all claim to the name… hang on, you’ve crossed a bit out here…”
“I’m very impressed that you managed to say that second part together,” said Barry. “Carry on.”
“I, Barry Bennett… hereby renounce all claim to the name… Barrissina. Orange Hamlet Bunny-Cutie Piddlypiddlypiddly Mitt.”
Barry’s prospective parents looked up, their faces stamped with confusion. Clearly, no one normally ever said no to Vlassorina. There was a gasp from the crowd. Imogen Le Bam-Bam actually fainted (although later doctors worked out that this was due to her having eaten a dodgy smartphone).
“And just a bit more, please,” said Barry.
“And…” they read, “I would like to be taken back to the Parent Agency.”
“Signed Barry Bennett,” said Barry Bennett, taking the parchment out of their hands.