It was Thursday night in the Handcuff’n’Handgrenade. On the face of it, just an ordinary Thursday night. The Karaoke was in full swing in the General Tojo Function Room, with Barry leading a chorus of Keep Right On. The rest of the Blosers were singing along with the line they knew, mumbling the rest then leading into the verse about the Villa.
Adolf was serving the occasional customer, getting ready for when he could shout time and duck below the bar. The police were outside in the car park, passing the final few minutes before they were called into action by betting on what would be the signal that time had been called. A chair through the window was favourite; on seven out of the last ten Karaoke Nites a chair had gone through the window when time was called. Twice it had been a table and once it had been Barry’s second cousin Brian, after he had asked the barman for a half and was therefore judged to be a dirty half-pint drinking Villa bastard.
Yes, it was a quiet, uneventful night and yet it was to prove highly significant…
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