My Partner in Crime

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing a dark red dress, a pair of strapped black shoes which I wore only for special occasions and I wore my usually tied up hair loose, in waves created by a styling wand. On my neck, there was a gold locket and on my ears, two sparkly drop earrings.

I grabbed my new shiny black handbag and set out for my evening out at a new posh restaurant in which I was to meet the date whom I had met via a dating app. His name was Benjamin Green and his profile picture showed a smiling, friendly face, with light brown hair, side-parted and worn away from his face. He had blue eyes and described himself as a warehouse stocker. For our date, he would be wearing a pale blue shirt, a dark blue tie with a white stripe and a light brown jacket. The date was fixed for 8p.m. He would be sitting at a table near the entrance of the restaurant, so that I would not fail to see him.

I felt slightly uneasy at the idea of meeting someone from a dating app. I had heard of a few people coming to a nasty end because of some unsavoury characters whom they had met on a dating app. You never knew who hid behind a keyboard! But I was not one for socialising: I would come home from my job as a hairdresser tired enough to crash on the sofa. It was only my friend, Denise, who worked with me who suggested that I needed to get more out of life and where better than from a dating app, so I decided to try it, just for fun.

I arrived at the restaurant. True to his word, Benjamin was waitng for me. He jumped up from his seat as soon as he saw me and pumped my hand with a vigorous handshake.

"Miss Louise Mitchell?"

"Yes. Benjamin Green?"

"Yes."

A waiter came to our table with menus. Benjamin ordered chicken soup, steak-and-kidney pie with rice and peas and I settled for pea soup, fish and chips. He chose apple pie and I chocolate cake as dessert.

"What do you do for a living, Louise, if may call you that?"

"You may. I am a hairdresser."

"I am a warehouse stocker, as you probably know from my online description. Nothing to write home about."

I giggled nervously. It is not the sort of confession you make to someone that you have just met, but then there was nothing stopping me from seeing him just this once and then never again.

"I am thinking of spreading my wings. I have been working there for five years and I feel that I am going nowhere. I just cannot afford to leave."

"Why not take out a loan?"

"I do not see how I could pay it back."

My heart sank. What if he was bankrupt and expected me to help him out? What if he did not even have a job and had lied to me? I had heard about some gullible women lending men endless amounts of money only to be bankrupted themselves eventually. Alarm bells rang in my head and I was tempted to run away from this date, but something held me back.

Benjamin continued:

"We close at six o'clock. How about I take you there?"

"To the warehouse?"

"Yes. We could fill a van with items that we see there and sell them for a profit online. There is no CCTV there and, at nights, we are not likely to get caught. Wear black clothes, a black anorak and gloves, so as not to leave fingerprints anywhere. The whole thing will not take more than an hour."

I felt sick. He was asking me to help him commit a burglary. Whatever my family's financial situation, it had always been drummed into me never to steal or burgle. Even if was not going to get caught, the idea of committing a burglary still repelled me.

"Benjamin-"

"What are you afraid of? Most of it is old stock that they would like to get rid of anyway. I doubt that they would miss it very much."

"Yes, but it is still theirs. You are asking me to become a thief."

"Trust me, Louise, that they are making a big loss keeping those old items and it would be a blessing if those old items were disposed of and new items placed instead. What do you think?"

I fell silent. I could see the appeal of wanting to make extra money by disposing of old items - it was just the method used that I did not like. I had been raised in an honest household where one did not commit crimes.

"I don't know," I blurted out.

Benjamin was persistent.

"Nobody will see us, Louise, I promise you and I am doing them a big favour by getting rid of their old, unwanted stock and making way for new stock. Where there is muck, there is brass, as they say."

I hesitated again.

"OK," I finally heard myself say.

I could have kicked myself.

We arranged to meet again at 8p.m. on a Saturday night. Benjamin scribbled down an address opposite a local park where I was to meet him. He would be driving a grey van. Parking a van outside a block of flats on a Saturday night could arouse suspicion.

Benjamin was wearing black as arranged and so was I. We drove to his warehouse in silence, as I was too nervous to speak. When we arrived, Benjamin managed to force open the door with a thrust of his shoulders.

The warehouse contained rolls of fabric for both clothes and curtains, ready-made clothes and shoes and gold, silver, gilt jewellery and expensive watches. Benjamin grabbed one bin liner and handed me another. Together, we depleted the warehouse of most of its stock and then jumped into his van. When I arrived at my flat, I could not sleep. The enormity of what I had done hit me like a brick.

A bin liner containing all the items that I had stolen lay across the room from me. My first instinct was to throw it away, but it contained expensive items, which I secretly admired and expensive items, if unwanted, were usually sold, rather than dispensed of. I did not k ow what to do with those items.

My mobile phone rang. It was Benjamin.

"Louise? How are you?"

My heart began to throb. It was now or never. I decided to bite the bullet.

"About last night, Benjamin. I don't think that we should see each other again. I feel bad about it. The stuff that I had taken is lovely, but it is stolen and I feel bad about it."

"We won't get caught-"

"That is not the point, Benjamin. The point is that it was stolen. We had no right to take it. Come to my place or give me your address and I will give it to you. You can dispense of it as you wish."

I gave him my address and he came to collect the stolen items. I never saw him again.