Dave Johnston looks around the small group gathered in Hartigan’s back kitchen. It is not the usual Wednesday night crowd. ‘Right,’ he says, ‘the robbery goes ahead on Friday morning’. The room is silent but he can see the doubt on their faces. ‘It is the old age pensions day so there will be plenty of cash in the Post Office. You alright with that?’ he asks, turning to Annie Redmond, the post mistress. ‘Have you told the pensioners themselves?’ she asks nervously. ‘Of course not,’ he replies, ‘do you want the whole county to know?’ Just then, Paddy Hartigan arrives in with tea and sandwiches.
‘Who exactly is in the gang?’ asks Tony McDonagh after they have finished their meal. ‘Well, there will be me, of course,’ replies Dave Johnston, ‘and Kieran here, and a guy that a friend of Kieran’s knows in the city. We are to call him Mister Blue, apparently. He will provide the balaclavas and iron bars’. The group exchange anxious looks, ‘You told me there wouldn’t be any violence,’ says Annie Redmond. ‘There won’t be,’ says Dave Johnston. ‘Look,’ he continues, ‘we know our Garda station is going to be closed. Not enough crime in the area. That’s what the politicians are telling us. Maybe, the robbery will change their minds. We all agreed it would be worth a try. Didn’t we?’ Everyone stares at the floor without replying. ‘Right, we will see you Friday morning,’ Dave nods at Miss Redmond as he heads for the door.
There is a small queue of pensioners in the post office as the three masked robbers run in the door. ‘Right, everyone on the floor,’ shouts Mister Blue, ‘this is a hold up’. The elderly group look at each other in shock before slowly starting to descend to the floor. ‘Ooh, my back is gone’ cries Mrs. Durkin, ‘ would it be alright if I sit on the chair?’ she asks. ‘Of course Mrs. D… err, madam,’ replies Dave Johnston, taking her gently by the elbow. Mr. Blue strides to the counter and throws a bag at Annie Redmond. ‘Right, fill it up if you don’t want some dead bodies here,’ he shouts at the frightened post mistress. Dave Johnston sidles up to the counter. ‘Look here, Mister Blue,’ he whispers, ‘there is no need for that type of behaviour. This is just a pretend robbery, remember’.
The gangster from the city stares back at him blankly. At that very moment, Mrs. Durkin springs into action. ‘OAP not RIP,’ she bellows as she leaps from the chair and kicks Dave Johnston between the legs. The reluctant robber crumbles to the floor, gasping for breath. Everything suddenly goes quiet. ‘OK. Nobody move. What exactly is going on here?’ Dave hears a voice ask loudly. Looking up, he can see Sergeant Gallagher and two Garda officers at the door. Taking off his balaclava, Dave Johnston rises slowly to his feet. ‘It is alright, sergeant,’ he says, ‘I can explain everything…’