“Brighty! Good to see you pal,” said Jon, reaching over to shake Ryan’s hand which he ignored.
“Now then,” said Clive. “Was starting to think you’d bottled it son.”
Ryan hated being referred to as ‘son’. He chose to ignore the dig and Charlie jumped in.
“So we all set for tomorrow then?” he asked, lowering his voice unnecessarily. There was a nod of consent from around the table.
Clive rubbed his hands on the thighs of his already shiny jeans. “Yeah mate, looking forward to it.”
Ryan looked at him and shook his head. ‘Prick,’ he thought.
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” chipped in Jon. “Got the motor all lined up. Lovely Beemer 3 series, runs as sweet as a nut.”
Ryan rolled his eyes waiting for the next predictable sentence.
“When I was a rally driver...” The rest of the lads flipped beer mats at him and told him to shut up.
“So what’s the plan then Charlie?” asked Clive for the hundredth time.
“Oh for fuck’s sake man, how many more times?” Ryan blew out a huge breath of frustration.
“Hey, come on. It’s OK to ask.” Charlie grabbed Clive’s shoulder in reassurance.
Ryan shook his head and stared at Charlie. ‘What the fuck has he got on you?’ He wondered. He knew Charlie had done some time inside for breaking and entering. Hardly Brinks Mat standard though.
Originally from the East End of London, Charlie had built himself a bit of a reputation when he’d shown up in Leeds years ago. Someone not to be messed with, a bit of a hard man. He was handy with his fists after he’d had a few and often regaled newcomers with his glory stories. He was the living cliché of an East End nutter. He definitely had the build at over 6ft tall with a shaved head and prison-made tattoos. But, he’d started to lose his edge. The once grid iron stomach had softened to a rounded belly that had started to flop over his waistband. He reckoned this job would be his last, which is why he was determined to take as much as they could.
Charlie ran through the plans again: he knew them by rote. He’d been working on this for over 18 months and he was damned if anything was going to go wrong now. He knew they made a motley crew but he had relied on Ryan for much of the job. Ryan had the contacts after all, and Charlie felt he could trust him.
“Right. We meet here tomorrow night at 8pm. The tills and safe will be loaded after the punters bets on the National,” he explained. “Stuart doesn’t lock up until the security van’s been at 8.30pm so we need to get in at 8.15pm.” He looked around, “Jon, make sure the car’s full and running to order.”
“No worries boss, I’m on it.”
“Clive, Jon will drop you at the crossroads. From there you’ll be able to see traffic in all directions. Any sign of the cops, you give the signal over the radio.”
“Erm, I ant got a radio.” said Clive.
“No dickhead, you’ll get it tomorrow,” answered Charlie.
Ryan shook his head. ‘What the actual fuck.’
“Ryan. Me and you will jump out of the car, kick in the front door, and make it clear we’re armed. I’ll head into the back office and kick the staff round to the front. Stuart’s bound to come out then, if he’s not there already, so I’ll take care of him and get him to start emptying the safe. Your job Ryan is to keep any punters under control. If you need to fire, aim at the ceiling. I don’t want anyone to get shot. Got it?”
Ryan nodded his consent.
“Once we’re clear I’ll radio Jon. We leave, pile in the car and head to the change-over point. Right, has everyone got it? Any questions?” Charlie looked at each of them in turn. No, no questions.
“Right then, see you all tomorrow.” Ryan finished his pint and stood up to leave. He was glad to get outside and into fresh air. He’d listened to what Charlie had to say but he didn’t trust it would go as smoothly as he reckoned. Just in case it all went tits up Ryan had sussed out an alternative escape route.
Following Day 8.15pm
“Get the fuck down!” screamed Ryan as he kicked his way into the shop. He glanced quickly around, adrenaline soaring through his veins. “Get down on the floor and don’t fucking move!” He could hear Charlie issuing orders to the two cashiers and instructing the shop owner Stuart to fill the holdalls. Suddenly the radio crackled into life. It was Clive “COPS!” he shouted across the radio.
“Fuck this,” said Ryan. He fired off a quick shot, kicked on the fire exit door and pelted over the wall. He could hear the sirens in the distance, and he didn’t stop until they were far behind him.
8
It was 10am in the Harbour Café. Kate often worked the Sunday shift on her own whilst Joe was happy to wander around the harbour with Jack. They were never really busy on Sunday mornings. It was usually the end of people’s holidays and they called in for a coffee before setting off on their trips home.
She took an order for a couple of lattes and went around the counter to start prepping the coffee machine. She heard the door jingle and shouted over her shoulder that she wouldn’t be a minute.
“No rush,” came the reply. It was Ryan.
Her stomach lurched and she turned around quickly, almost spilling the milk she had in her hand.
“Oh, hi,” she said. “Just give me a minute.” She was unnerved to see him so unexpectedly but was determined not to let it show. She made the coffees and handed them to the couple before turning her attention to Ryan. “What can I get you?” she asked, trying to be nonchalant.
“Erm, just a black coffee with sugar and maybe a bacon butty?” he asked, looking a bit worse for wear.
Kate started the prep, “Wow, heavy night?”
“Yeah, just a bit. Don’t usually drink on duty but had a rowdy crowd in on the whisky so you know how it goes.”
Kate knew exactly how it went with Ryan. Never one to say no, especially if someone else was paying.
“And you just couldn’t resist?”
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“Back in second, I’ll bring you your butty.”
A few more customers came in after that, so Kate didn’t have a chance to speak to Ryan until it went quiet. She noticed he’d finished his coffee and sandwich but still hung around. Kate felt a little tingle of... she wasn’t sure what, excitement, nerves? She cleaned the last of the tables and made herself a cup of tea, topping Ryan’s coffee up at the same time. The café was empty now, so she grabbed the chair opposite and sat down.
“So, what plans have you got for the rest of the day?” he asked.
“Not much. Joe’s out with Jack at the minute but they’ll be back soon so probably lunch and a walk to the park I would have thought. Why do you ask?” she replied.
“Wondered if you fancied going for a walk or something?” he asked. Kate hesitated and looked at him,
“With Joe?” asked Kate.
“Of course with Joe. Be nice to see him again, he was just a bairn last time I saw him properly.”
“Uh, I’m not sure.” Kate picked at an imaginary stain on the table.
“C’mon, you said yourself you’ve nothing else planned and it would be nice to spend some time with a familiar face.”