T.J. Lebbon - The Family Man - An edge-of-your-seat read that you won’t be able to put down

‘Two minutes,’ Andy said from behind his Iron Man mask. He went first, taking several confident strides and passing through the door. As he did so he lifted the carrier bag in his right hand, pointing its contents ahead of him.

Dom followed, drawing the smaller bag from his shorts pocket. It contained a chunk of wood, but it could have been anything. He entered just behind Andy, in time to see the postmistress standing behind the shop counter, eyes wide, lips still pursed in a silent whistle. The tune had died on her lips.

The radio still sounded from somewhere behind the shop. It sounded like Radio One, the sort of music Daisy listened to but which Dom thought of as noise pollution. He couldn’t imagine that this woman would choose that.

‘This is all going to be very easy and painless,’ Andy said. He held the carrier bag across his chest in both hands, like a soldier would nurse a rifle. ‘You understand?’

The woman nodded, glancing nervously back and forth between Iron Man and the Hulk.

The enclosed, glazed post office area was to the left, “Closed” sign still propped across the metal money tray beneath the glass screen.

‘Fuse board?’ Dom asked. The woman pointed above the greeting card display. Dom glanced at the fuse board and noted the incoming phone line junction box next to it. Perfect. He nodded at Andy, then turned his back on him and the woman.

He felt sick. He held the bag away from his body so she would see it, then peered through the window between advertising cards and posters. He wondered whether he should close the door, couldn’t remember what they’d decided about that. Had they decided anything? Door open or closed? He started breathing heavier again, balls tingling, head pulsing.

Outside, everything looked fine. Across in the Blue Door’s garden the man turned a page of his newspaper, and the young mother had the child on her lap. Neither of them were looking his way.

A car passed by, a man in shirt and tie driving, jacket hanging in the back. He was talking into a mobile phone. Stupid , Dom thought. He’ll cause an accident . He tried to smile but it would not come.

‘We’re here for money, that’s all,’ Andy said behind him. ‘It’s not yours. You won’t be hurt, and you’ll even find a bit of fame from this. Being robbed by Iron Man and the Hulk. You can sell your story.’

‘What have you …?’ the woman asked. Her voice was high, shaking with fear. Dom closed his eyes briefly, flushed with shame.

‘I have a sawn-off shotgun,’ Andy said. ‘My friend has a grenade. We’re not using them. Just carrying them. That’s all. Now, no panic buttons. No shouts. Just open the safe and we’ll be on our way.’

‘Okay,’ the woman said.

‘How much are you holding?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Money.’

‘Oh … thirty-eight thousand.’

There was a pause, a silent moment with no movement or talking. Dom almost glanced back, but he kept watching the road and square, as they’d agreed. You have to keep watch, Andy had said. That’s the most important job. Anyone looks like they’ve seen us, anything out of the ordinary, and we’re gone .

‘Who’s up there?’ Andy asked.

‘My granddaughter. Teacher training day at school, so she’s here with me. Having breakfast in her room, listening to music. I tell her to turn it down but … she’s only young.’

‘We’ll be gone before she knows we’re here. Now hurry.’

Dom felt suddenly, irrationally hungry. He hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, had told Emma that he’d grab something on his way to the builder’s merchants. And in half an hour he’d actually be there, buying some supplies and equipment for the kitchen rewire he was doing in Monmouth. Davey was already at the job, stripping old wires and first fixing. They’d been working there for two days the previous week, and the couple they worked for were nice. They gave them a steady supply of biscuits and tea.

The smell of cooked bacon and coffee made his stomach rumble.

‘Hulk!’ Andy said, impatient, as if he’d already called his friend’s name.

‘All quiet,’ Dom said.

He heard the rattle of keys, the creak of an un-oiled door. Movement as Andy crossed to the post office area. Dom glanced at his friend’s back. Beyond, behind the glass screen, the woman was opening the safe. Andy had the carrier bag containing his lump of wood resting on the shop counter, angled through the doorway into the post office area.

One Direction started harmonising from elsewhere in the building. A young girl’s voice joined in, unaware that anyone other than her grandmother was listening. Dom smiled, but the smile fell into a frown.

‘Hurry!’ he said. It would be bad enough knowing what her grandmother had been through. Last thing he wanted was the girl coming down and seeing it. There was no knowing how she’d react. If she ran screaming into the street …

Then they’d have to flee. That was all. No one was getting hurt.

‘Pile it into the post bag,’ he heard Andy say. ‘Yeah, coins too.’

Across the square, Sue had emerged from the Blue Door cafe, carrying a tray of cups and food. She deposited it on the paper-reading man’s table, then chatted to him for a while. She even laughed at something he said. Dom felt offended. She was always so brusque with him and Andy. Maybe she really did hate cyclists.

He laughed, short and loud.

‘What?’ Andy snapped.

‘Nothing, nothing. It’s just Sue—’

‘Hulk, shut the fuck up!’ It was like a slap. His eyes stung like a berated child’s. Then he realised what he’d said, and why Andy’s reaction had been so harsh. ‘Out of there, now,’ Andy said to the postmistress.

Across the square, Sue went back into the cafe. The man stirred his coffee and picked up a sandwich, studying it before taking a bite. Dom wished he was sitting there now with Andy, talking bullshit and anticipating their ride back home. Not here. Robbing a fucking post office.

‘Okay, Hulk, we’re good.’

Dom pocketed the bagged chunk of wood and drew a pair of wire snippers from his other pocket. He had to stretch to reach the fuse board. One snip cut the phone line. It was probably pointless in this age of mobiles, especially with a teenaged girl in the house who was probably glued to hers. But for the sake of a second it was worth it. Then he opened the misted cover to the fuse board, flipped the switch that cut power to the building, and dug beneath the switch and snipped the wires within.

One Direction fell silent.

‘Nan!’ a girl called.

‘Okay,’ Dom said. The post office probably had a direct panic line to the local police station, but that was five miles away in the nearest small town. At least the postmistress now wouldn’t be able to activate the local alarm the second they left.

Andy shoved gently at his back and they exited into the blinding sunlight. Dom walked quickly around the front of the car. He had never felt so exposed, so scrutinised.

A Range Rover turned into the square and came towards them. Sunlight reflected from the windscreen, hiding whoever was inside. It slowed as it approached, then accelerated quickly away, swerving across the road and striking the kerb. It made a sudden left turn around the square and stopped outside the Blue Door.