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chapter five! the theft
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"I can't believe you stole it, Michelle," Aoife scolded, rubbing her temple as the group gathered at the bridge, "James, you should have stopped her."
"Fionnula was out back cashing up, I sneaked in, yanked it off the wall and away I went. I was like a thief in the night," Michelle dramatically bragged to the group, pacing in front of them.
"Like a thief in the night? You actually were a thief in the night, Michelle," Clare rambled on, her voice reaching a much higher frequency than normal, "And you stole from Fionnula, of all people. I once saw her punch a Rottweiler, Michelle."
"If she finds out about this, she will kill you," Aoife added, baffled as to why the curly-haired girl had committed this crime, "Or worse, she'll ban you from the chip shop. Why did you steal the notice board?"
"So we get first dibs on all the jobs," Michelle revealed a wide smile on her face, not fully understanding why her friends were having problems following her plan.
"Wouldn't it have been easier to just remove the notices, they're only Blu Tacked on," James suggested, gesturing to the small pieces of blu tack that were holding the notices up.
"That wouldn't have gotten you killed," Aoife grumbled, running her hands through her bright curls.
"Fuck off, dickweed!" Michelle spat at her cousin, stopping to think for the first time this evening and realising that James did have a point.
"Christ, what possessed you?" Erin grumbled, growing more and more sick of Michelle's antics.
"Yeah. The more I talk about it the more I sober up, the less sure I am really," Michelle admitted, rubbing her temple as her friends looked at her in couple disbelief.
"You were drunk?" Clare squealed.
"You better have not stolen the drink from the pub," Aoife grumbled, shaking her head at her best friend, "Da will skin you."
"Brilliant,"
"We are not like Jenny Joyce. Nobody is just going to hand us things," Michelle started, Aoife sighed knowing this was gearing up to one of Michelle's long rambling rants, "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't have things. Come on, Clare, I know how much you have dreamed of seeing the arc - whatever the fuck it's called. James, I know how much you want to practice the shit out of the past participle, Aoife, I know how much you want to see the Louvre. Orla, you really buzz off those Renault Clio ads,"
