“‘Ey, wind ya neck in,” I snapped, pointing a finger at him as I hopped down from the caravan. “I’d been up all night doin’ ya dirty work, don’t ya forget, now.”
I slammed the door shut behind me, hoping Ronan knew he was safely concealed. I stepped into my boots and bent down to tie the laces.
Declan flicked his cigarette butt away. “I offered ta help ya, like.”
“Aye, an’ get yourself inta more trouble than it’d be worth,” I muttered. “C’mon, let’s get goin’.”
Declan and I climbed into the van. As my mate got himself comfortable, I turned the key in the ignition with my eyes fixed on my caravan. There were no signs of life inside and for that I was relieved. I didn’t like rushing off and leaving Ronan like this, but I’d make it up to him later. It was only as I was reversing the van, did I finally spot a shadowy figure moving on the other side of the lace curtains. Declan was looking out of the opposite window, and I hastily turned the van away, heading down the gravel driveway for the first day of honest work since landing in Appleby.
It had been inevitable that word of our involvement in wrecking the local pub got around town. It spread like wildfire, even Declan’s Tess accosting us when she heard the news. She’d been less than impressed, that much had been clear but I hadn’t expected a wee buffer to understand.
Declan and I had only been back at the camp for maybe an hour or two when commotion outside caught my eye. As soon as I pushed the door open, I knew there was trouble afoot. A crowd had begun to gather at the gates to the site, with more folks pouring in by the second.
I hopped down from my caravan, barely making it more than a few strides before hearing my name.
“‘Ey! John-Francis!”
I looked over my shoulder, Seamus a short distance behind. He caught up to me, mouth set in a grim line and eyes hardened.
“Y’hear? The filth are outside, now.”
My heart began to pound, palms growing sweaty as adrenaline coursed through me. “About the pub, aye?”
Before Seamus could respond, an old fella and one of the locals stopped beside us.
“Ya fellas seen Declan around, now?” he asked, bushy brows drawn into a scowl.
I shrugged. “Probably at his place, like. What’s the craic?”
“The police a’askin’ f’him.”
My stomach churned. This wasn’t good news. We’d been cautious about hiding our identities, but that landlord knew Declan’s face after their run in. He’d undoubtedly assumed Declan had been the one to trash his pub, but for once the buffers were barking up the wrong tree. He’d been nowhere near the place.
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, watching the old fella marching to Declan’s when my eyes caught sight of Ronan and Darragh. They were already making a beeline for me and Seamus.
“Howsagoin’?” I said in greeting once they were close enough. My heart swelled a little just for seeing Ronan’s lovely wee face, even though it was drawn tight with tension.
“Aye, ‘bout ya,” he muttered. “Y’know what this is, aye?”
“Think we’d been rumbled, fellas?” Darragh asked. Though he was trying hard not to look nervous, I could tell from the way he shifted foot to foot that he was worried.
“Aye, but they got nothin’ on us, like,” I replied with a shrug. “They’d be askin’ after Declan.”
No sooner had I spoken his name, the man himself appeared. He had a face like thunder, storming towards the gates with a familiar fury burning inside him that I’d seen often enough to know it spelt trouble. I broke from the others, jogging to catch up with him.
‘‘Ey!” I called, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Where’d y’think ya goin’, like?”
“Feckin’ cunts think I was involved in last night, now,” he snarled. “Askin’ f’me by feckin’ name. I’d be makin’ me way t’ give them a piece o’ me mind.”
I grinned at him. “Y’need a hand?”
Despite his rage, Declan smirked at me and clapped his hand against my back. “Aye, that’d be grand.”
Side by side we headed towards the crowd, a sense of dangerous anticipation building already. There was nothing travellers enjoyed more than a good fight, especially when it was against the police. It was loud, people shouting and jeering at the authorities on the other side of the fence. As we approached, folks caught sight of us and let us muscle our way to the front.
“Hear ya’d be lookin’ f’me, fellas?” Declan crowed, puffing himself up with self-confidence as he swaggered to the gate.
“Declan Furey?’ one of the officers asked. They were kitted out in their riot gear, with two vans and a whole host of cars. They’d come here expecting trouble, and trouble was exactly what we were going to give them. I clenched my jaw, body thrumming with a sick sense of excitement at what lay ahead.
