Chapter One
John-Francis
Appleby-in-Westmorland
Present Day
“Y’right or what?”
“Aye, keep y’hair on, now.”
I pushed myself up from leaning against Declan’s caravan, the fella himself finally making an appearance. After all the years that we’d spent together, I knew Declan Furey was never on time for anything, and yet I still bristled with frustration.
“The others’ll be waitin’ on us, like,” I muttered, waiting for Declan to lock up.
“Ah, they’d be gettin’ over it.” He shrugged.
We walked ahead down the gravel drive, a transit with its engine running waiting for us by the gates that lead to the compound.
Declan and I had only hitched up in Appleby an hour or so ago, but we’d quickly been accosted to go for a pint by a couple of the fellas we’d made friends with over the years – Seamus being the most notable.
He stayed in Appleby all year round and was a decent fella.
He could always be relied upon for a laugh, and he had good connections if you needed a wee pick me up to get a party started.
“Ah, is it not yourself?” Seamus shouted sarcastically as I tugged the passenger door open. “I’d started t’ wonder if ya’d fallen in.”
“Don’t ya be lookin’ at me, now,” I replied, shuffling over the bench seats to sit in the middle, allowing room for Declan to clamber in beside me.
Seamus just laughed and pulled off, the van jostling as it headed out onto the road. The fair wasn’t due to start until the weekend, but there were already traveller folks everywhere. The van dodged groups of people and horses the entire way until we finally pulled up in the town.
“Leavin’ her here, aye?” I asked Seamus as we climbed down from the van.
“F’now, like. Depends how many drinks I have in me later whether I’d be drivin’ her home,” he replied with a shrug. “If I’m not totally mashed, I’ll give us all a wee lift.”
“Sound.”
It was a warm, humid June evening, the sun just beginning to set.
The pub we’d set our eyes on was already rammed and I knew it would be fucking murder trying to get drinks, but there wasn’t a lot of choice in a small town like Appleby.
I knew all the pubs would be much the same; travellers loved their drink, and there was nothing quite like the beginning of the horse fair to get everyone in the mood for a party.
We muscled our way inside, chatting shite just as we always did. The place was packed out, but folks made space for us as we passed. There was no chance at getting a seat, so we found a gap in the crowds where we could stand at the far side of the pub.
“A’right, who’s gettin’ ‘em in, now?” I asked the group, met with groaning and grumbling as they each tried to get out of paying for the first round.
“‘ey – y’got the wee notes on ya, aye?” Declan said, running a hand through his hair.
I knew what he was talking about immediately. There was a wedge of forged notes in my back pocket.
“F’sure, we’d just be needin’ an opportunity t’ use ‘em,” I replied with a nod. “What’s the bar lookin’ like? D’ya think they’re on it t’ notice, now?”
Declan craned his neck to look through the crowds.
Something about his entire demeanour shifted in an instant as he did a double-take.
I followed his line of sight, noticing a dark-haired beauty working behind the bar.
She was pretty as a picture and covered in tattoos, but there was something sharp about her that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
All I knew was there was no chance on this earth that Declan wasn’t going to be interested in her.
If my mate had written down everything that he liked best in a girl, this one had it all and that spelt trouble.
“She’s a nice piece, eh?” I said, smirking when Declan seemed to snap out of his trance, eyes glued to the pretty barmaid.
“A feckin’ ride,” he muttered, running his hand over his mouth.
“Y’think y’gotta chance, boyo? She’s a wee settled, no?”
This time, Declan didn’t even look away, gaze fixed on the barmaid. “Better believe, I’d be doin’ what I need ta t’ ensure it.”
“C’mon then.” I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “First round’s on meself an’ I’ll get ya man there outta ya way so y’can try chattin’ the feek up.”
Declan grinned at me. “Like a wee wingman?”
“Somethin’ like that, aye,” I replied.
“What’d it be costin’ me, like?”
“I reckon I’d not be needin’ t’ buy another drink all night, fella,” I teased, laughing when Declan scowled.
“Y’feckin’ jammy shite, y’coddin’ me? All night?”
“Depends how much ya’d be wantin’ ya girl there under yourself, eh?”
I smirked, watching Declan wrestle with himself. He knew I was driving a steep bargain, but I knew my mate all too well. He was keen to have a run at that pretty wee thing behind the bar and whenever Declan’s dick was concerned, logical thought always came second.
“Aye,” he grumbled with a sigh, holding his hand out. “Ya on, but only until I’d be gettin’ her number. Y’on y’own after that.”
“Quality.”
Without another word, I muscled my way through the crowds and caught the attention of the burly older fella that was working behind the bar alongside Declan’s piece.
His eyes were on me immediately, distrust burning behind them.
That wasn’t anything new to me. As a traveller, you got used to being unwelcome.
“‘Bout ya, chief?” I called out.
“What can I get you?” he replied stiffly, crossing his arms over his chest.
I took a moment to peruse the offerings behind the bar before putting my order in.
“T’ree ciders, a Guinness an’ a triple vodka Coke.”
“Coming right up.”
Whilst the barman prepared my drinks, I stole a glance down the bar.
Declan was working his magic, but it looked like his girl wasn’t easily persuaded.
If that wee beauty knew what was good for her, she’d play as hard to get as she possibly could.
Declan loved the chase. The harder they made him work, the more intensely he’d pursue them. I’d seen it enough to know.
“Here you are.”
My attention snapped back to the barman, and I took the drinks he slid across to me.
“Ah, quality.” I dug my hand into my back pocket, fully intending to pass him a forged note until I saw him uncapping a UV pen.
Ah, shite. I swapped my hand to the opposite pocket, pulling free a genuine note at the last moment.
I handed it across, watching the barman thoroughly checking it before dropping it into the till and handing me my change.
As I held my palm out, he held onto the coins for a fraction longer than necessary.
“I want no trouble tonight, you hear? Have a good night.”
“No bother, boss.” I cast him a dark expression before gathering together my drinks and making my way back to the other fellas.
The night turned to a blur, drink after drink placed into my hand as Declan found any excuse to return to the bar and sweet talk his wee beauty.
It was hilarious to see my usually smug, player of a mate chasing his tail over a wee settled and as long as he was plying me with drinks, I was happy for it to continue.
As time drew on, the pub thinned out a little and we finally nabbed ourselves a table. I was hammered, suddenly regretting not eating much more than a packet of crisps and a chocolate bar in the van all day.
“I’d be needin’ a piss,” Declan muttered, draining his glass and getting to his feet.
“Aye, givin’ that wee lovely piece an eyeballin’ on the way an’ all I’d wager,” Seamus laughed. “Y’can barely keep y’tongue in y’mouth there, fella.”
The group jeered, everyone enjoying seeing Declan striking out with the pretty barmaid. He laughed and gave us the finger before disappearing towards the toilets.
“I’d never be seein’ him like this,” I muttered to Seamus with a smirk. “She’s givin’ him a wee runaround, aye?”
“‘Bout time if y’ask me,” he replied, draining his glass. “Makes f’a wee change. I’d be gettin’ fed up o’ losin’ out on the talent ‘cause o’ him, like. I dunno how y’stand it.”
I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. I didn’t quite know how to break it to Seamus that Declan being so easy to distract worked out in my favour. I needed to change the subject.
“Ah, I don’t suppose y’carryin’, now?” I asked, leaning in and lowering my voice.
Seamus grew suddenly serious. “Just might be. What’re y’after, like?”
I shrugged. “E?”
Seamus shook his head. “Nah, not on me. I can get ya some that’ll knock y’feckin’ socks off though, boyo.”
“Well, what ya got then?”
Seamus dug a hand into his jeans and passed me a baggie under the table. I subtly unfurled my fist.
“Snow?”
“Aye, clean stuff, like. It’s grand.”
I wasn’t a huge fan of cocaine. My recreational drugs of choice were usually those that chilled you out, got you real mellow. Coke tended to be just the opposite, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Grand,” I muttered, shoving the bag into my pocket. “Drinks? On Declan, aye?”
The table erupted into laughter, and I got to my feet, stumbling as the pub seemed to spin around me. I spotted Declan’s pretty wee barmaid, and I decided to bat the hive a little.
“‘ey! Darlin’!” I called out, pleased when her attention snapped to me immediately.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, eyeing me with suspicion.
“You’ve done plenty already,” I laughed. “Keep givin’ Declan the runaround, aye? Make his tight hole pay f’our drinks all night!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you want to order a drink…” She trailed off, eyes flitting over my shoulder. A moment later, Declan appeared at my side.
“John-Francis isn’t botherin’ ya now?” he asked, looping his arm around my shoulders.
He was tense, though he was doing a good job at pretending he wasn’t.
Declan didn’t want me chatting shite to his girl, that much was clear, but I wasn’t about to be behaving myself.
There was nothing I loved more than getting a rise out of Declan, and I knew he’d be giving me hell just the same if the roles had been reversed.