Once we were certain we had everything together, we headed to my van. I turfed my bat into the footwell before digging around underneath the front seats.
“Y’alright?” Ronan asked, sidling up beside me.
“Aye,” I replied, shooting him a grin as I pulled free the set of false number plates. “Gimme a hand swappin’ these over?”
He smirked. “Aye, no bother.”
I took the front while Ronan took the back and in a matter of minutes all four of us were cramming ourselves into the front seat of my van and heading off to Appleby town.
It was late, but not yet late enough. When we arrived outside the pub, all the lights were on. Since the fair had dispersed, Appleby was deadly quiet, and from what I could see, the pub was empty, save for an old fella and a wee dog.
“It’s got a wee backdoor ‘round the side, now,” Seamus said. Being a local, he knew all the ins and outs of the establishments in town. “It’s locked up, like, but nothin’ a wee bolt cutter won’t make short work o’.”
“I’ve got one in the back,” I muttered, eyes fixed on the pub. “I’ll park up a wee walk from here. We’ll wait ‘til it’s all shut down and quiet, have a quick shifty ‘round an’ then wait it out in the van ‘til we’re ready, aye?”
The group replied with murmurs of agreement, and I put the van into gear, easing away and parking her up a wee five-minute walk away, hidden in plain sight in a quiet, unassuming housing estate. I turned the engine off so as not to draw any unnecessary attention, and we sat in the dark, chatting shite and making plans for the evening ahead.
Last call at the pub was at eleven and by the time midnight struck, Seamus and Darragh were hopping down from the van. They’d go on ahead to check the placeover, make sure it was vacant and that no nasty surprises were waiting for us, then report back. It was a smart idea to wait until the wee hours of the morning even if the coast was clear to ensure any neighbours would be fast asleep in their beds and less likely to be disturbed by the sound of smashing glass.
As soon as Seamus and Darragh were out of sight around the corner, I glanced at Ronan beside me.
“Y’ready f’this?”
He nodded. “Y’wanna swipe a few bottles an’ that when we’re in there, like, or just wreck the place?”
“Ah, it’d be rude not ta come away wi’ a few souvenirs, now, doncha agree?”
“Aye.” There was a thoughtful pause. “Ya’d be takin’ care o’ yourself tonight, like.”
I chuckled. “Y’worried ‘bout me?”
“I’d rather me ride wasn’t banged up, like,” Ronan replied.
“Aye, an’ ya’d be lookin’ after ya wee, pretty face an’ all, y’hear?”
When Ronan grinned at me, I was helpless but to stare at his mouth. “Be doin’ me best, now.”
There was a tense moment of silence whilst we gazed at one another. I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair.
“Ah, I wanna kiss ya, like,” I grumbled, ripping my eyes off him to look out of the driver’s side window at the dark street.
Ronan laughed softly. “Aye, be knowin’ the feelin’. In an’ out tonight, aye, then back t’ yours?”
“Too feckin’ right.”
Soon enough, Seamus and Darragh returned and clambered back up into the cab with us.
“Aye, all locked up now,” Seamus said, pulling his mask down from his face. “Just as I’d be sayin’, there’s a wee padlock wi’ a chain on the back door but should be easy enough t’ cut through, like.”
I nodded. “No other nasty surprises? Burglar alarms?”
Darragh shook his head. “None we could see, now.”
“Quality. A’right, be sittin’ here a wee while ‘til it gets quiet out an’ then we’ll head in, aye?”
The group muttered in agreement, and we passed an hour or more just chatting and larking about in the van. When it was certain the town would be dead asleep, we gathered all our tools – Darragh’s crowbar, my bat, plus a holdall full of bits and pieces, including the bolt cutter Seamus had assured us we’d need – and made our way back to the pub.
It was dark inside, silent and vacant. We needed to be quick about this. We each tugged our face coverings up and jogged around to the side of the building, behind a few large bins, to where the back door was located.
