Rosie wore flared jeans and a wide paisley scarf in her hair. Her faded T-shirt featured an illustrated PS4 handset and the slogan Player 3, Coming Soon.
“My wife-to-be.” Graham proudly wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
They gave each other a loving glance before Rosie held out her hand to Mitchell. “He talks about you all the time. You’re a legend in our household.”
“He saved my life when we were kids,” Graham said.
Mitchell shook his head. “Not really.”
“I’ve still got my broken tooth as proof.”
“It’s brilliant to meet you. Thanks for being our best man,” Rosie said. “Graham says you have a daughter, Poppy. Is she coming to the wedding?”
“Oh, yes. Just try to stop her,” Mitchell laughed.
“Rosie is going to be on lookout duty tonight,” Graham said. He laid a protective hand on her belly. “She’ll keep her eyes peeled while we get busy. We’re just waiting for reinforcements, then we can make a start. I’ve asked a couple of my gardening friends to help out with no questions asked.”
“You really have gardening buddies?” Mitchell questioned.
“Yup, love plants almost as much as my PlayStation now. The lights are all turned off on the bridge, but we don’t want to use a torch and be spotted. So, we’ll strip the entire panel to make sure we get the right lock. My friends will bring a couple of wheelbarrows to transport them away.”
Mitchell stared at him. “I only need to save the one lock.”
“We’re going to save a lot more than that,” Graham said.
Rosie caught Mitchell’s eye. “My beloved has got something planned, but won’t tell me what it is. Can you give me a clue, Mitchell?”
“I haven’t told him, so you’ll just have to wait,” Graham said teasingly. He held up a large key ring full of lockpicks. “I’ve brought these along, and I’ll be onto those padlocks like vultures stripping a carcass.”
“You’ve got this all planned out. I’m impressed,” Mitchell said.
Graham nodded at him. “I learned from the master.”
Mitchell, Graham and Rosie moved stealthily through the back streets of the city. Rosie led the way, leading them through alleys Mitchell didn’t know existed. They witnessed an animated argument taking place in the backyard of a restaurant, and two teenage boys shared a furtive cigarette. A stray dog nuzzled inside a pizza box, and a motorbike roared past them.
They rendezvoused with two men who stood with wheelbarrows at the end of a backstreet close to Redford.
“This is Mason and Tony. Meet Mitchell, a great friend of mine,” Graham said.
A man who had a scar running diagonally down his left cheek stuck out a huge hand. “Mason,” he said gruffly.
Tony wore a grubby tracksuit with nothing underneath his top. His greasy hair shone in the darkness. He didn’t offer his hand but chewed minty gum and nodded an acknowledgement.
“They’d do anything for me,” Graham confided quietly to Mitchell. “Can turn their hand to everything, no questions asked. I’m glad they’re my friends rather than enemies. Wouldn’t want that.”
Mitchell gulped. “Good.”
Graham turned to Mason and Tony. “I’ve owed Mitchy Boy here a favor for years, and he’s calling it in. There’s a panel of padlocks on the redbrick bridge we want to clear off. We need to keep the locks intact, no cutting them off. Mitchell is on distraction duty and I’m on lockpicks with Mason. Rosie is keeping her eye out. Tony, you guard the barrows and be ready to move quickly when we need you. Everyone clear?”
The five of them nodded. The operation was underway.
The road signs were still in place, across the mouth of the bridge, acting as a barrier so it was closed to the traffic. The streetlamps that usually illuminated the bridge were switched off, casting the pavement and road in dark shadows.
Rosie stayed close to the mouth of the bridge. She held on to a dog lead. “If I anyone asks, I can say I’m looking for my dog, who escaped his leash,” she said.
Graham kissed Rosie on the cheek. “Now you can see why I’m marrying this woman.”
Mitchell smiled at the two of them and thought how perfect they were together. It had taken Graham a while to find his match, but he had got there in the end. When he recalled Barry’s words about getting back into the wild to meet someone, it didn’t seem such a scary prospect any longer. It was distinctly possible.
Mitchell’s palms were sweaty as he walked along the bridge with Graham and Mason.
“Point out the panel, and we’ll do all the work,” Graham said.
“I’ll help.”
“Let’s keep you out of this. You don’t want to lose your job.”
“There’s no one around to see us.”
“We can’t be too sure.”
Mason looked around him, lifting his chin high and low. “There might be security guys patrolling the city. Rosie will spot them.”
Mitchell pointed to the area of railing that Yvette’s lock was attached to behind the wire fencing. “It’s in the middle somewhere.”
“As I said, we’ll get them all,” Graham said.
“What will you do with them afterward?”
Graham laid a hand on Mitchell’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry about that. This is my favor to you. I’ll sort everything out.”
Mason stared at the padlocks and whistled through his teeth. “There’s a lot of them hanging there.”
“Then let’s get started,” Graham said.
Graham and Mason made light work of snipping through the fencing and squeezing through to the other side. Graham took out his picks and handed another set to Mason. They crouched and worked quickly, seeming to instinctively know which pick to use for which lock. They spread out a couple of blankets on the pavement, so there was no clatter of metal against the ground.
For forty-five minutes, Mitchell paced nervously up and down the bridge, looking out for any security guards. A police car sped toward him and its blue light swirled and siren screeched. He held his breath readying himself for it to halt alongside him.
When it sped on past, he exhaled with a gush of relief.
His body grew limper when he saw a figure heading toward him. It was the man with the tufty black beard and he was holding a torch.
Mitchell tried to find a posture that was nonchalant and unsuspicious. “Oh, all right?” he said.