She’s Out

Chapter 9

Dolly had only just come down to breakfast when John asked to speak to her. He was obviously angry: the men wanted paying, he wanted paying. She had successfully put off the first instalment but now it was Friday and there was still no cash.

Dolly felt guilty and apologized: she said she was having problems releasing the cash but assured him that he would have it by the following morning.

John was hesitant but trapped. What could he do? He had no choice but to wait and believe she would pay him. His workers were really pissed off when he told them they’d have to wait until Monday. They put down their tools and walked off the site, saying they would come back when he paid up.

The house, with the scaffolding and debris surrounding the grounds, looked in an even more dilapidated condition than before. Loose tiles had been thrown from the roof, the chimneys were still at a dangerous angle, windows were out in some rooms, sections of the front of the house had no plaster, the rough old bricks exposed. It was a depressing sight and the only thing that kept Dolly’s spirits up was that she had done well with the social services and that money was coming her way via Audrey.

Audrey, in a state of nerves matched only by her son’s, gathered all the money she could lay hands on. The only plus was that Dolly still had no knowledge of Mike’s part and, thankfully for him, neither did the police. However, they’d just heard that DCI Craigh’s chief was pushing Traffic to trace the hit-and-run car that killed James Donaldson. Mike’s part had been played down by Craigh and there was no mention that he had a personal motive for bringing in Dolly Rawlins. Nor was there mention that the police had succeeded in tracing the stolen gems at Donaldson’s antique shop. That, too, was glossed over.

Traffic liked nothing better than a hopeless case — or one that seemed like one — and now, with the incentive to pull out all stops, they went to work. They had only a part index and a vague description of the vehicle, but they checked on paint colour co-ordination with both Rover and Volvo companies, their computers triggering off further developments as they began slowly to narrow down the make and year of the vehicle. The bonus was the section of the number plate and the massive, detailed, computerized cross-references moved into action. They were positive that they would be able to trace or narrow down the vehicle owner. All they required was time.

Although the women had agreed they would be leaving, none seemed eager to depart. Julia and Ester had argued: in reality Julia did not want to leave and felt guilty about the on-site visit from the social services. Ester eventually told her that if she wanted to stay she should. She, Ester, had better things to do with her life than sit buried in the country. Julia knew that she would be in deep trouble if she returned to London and tried to make her see sense. ‘Maybe, I just got to sort it for myself, Julia, by myself. You do what the hell you like.’

Julia had flounced out in a bad temper and taken herself off to the local pub. She asked for a double Scotch on the rocks and leaned on the bar. Across the room, seated at one of the bay windows, was Norma Hastings. She had been riding and was wearing jodhpurs and a hacking jacket. She watched Julia, lowering her newspaper. Norma was an attractive woman, thick, red hair, a pleasant round face and obviously fit: her cheeks had that ruddy glow. In comparison, Julia seemed pale, her skinny frame mannish and her long, wiry brown hair like an unruly mop-head. Norma continued to watch her as she pretended to read the paper until she could not be bothered to hide her interest. She tossed it aside. She reckoned she was right about her — it was rare that she wasn’t — but she didn’t make a move. Instead, she enjoyed studying the woman at the bar. Just like a man would covet a woman he fancied, Norma’s eyes roamed over the unaware Julia. Norma liked her hands, the way she leaned on her elbow; she liked her mane of hair, her hawk-nosed features. And yet she knew something must be wrong because she was ordering one double Scotch after another, knocking them back in one gulp, then staring at the polished wood counter. Norma noticed how she dug into her pockets to count out the cash to pay the barman. Her trousers were skin-tight and she had a perfect, tight arse.

As Julia’s boots were mud-spattered, Norma reckoned it would be a good opener to ask if she liked to ride — horses, not herself, but that was what she was after. She wasn’t often so blatant about it — in her job she couldn’t be. If the Metropolitan Police knew that one of their mounted officers was gay... she could only imagine the snide cracks. She’d had enough of them already, without them knowing she was a lesbian as well.

Norma decided to go for it and walked towards the bar. Suddenly her confidence slipped a fraction as Julia turned towards her. She had not expected such dark, angry eyes. ‘Hi, I’m Norma Hastings.’ She put out her hand to shake and got a steely put-down.

‘Are you?’ said Julia sarcastically, not caring if Norma had said she was the Duchess of York.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’

‘Why not? Double Scotch.’

An hour later, Julia’s cheeks were as flushed as Norma’s, not from fresh air but from alcohol. She was very tipsy as the two climbed over a gate to head across a field to a couple of grazing horses.

‘She’s called Helen of Troy and if you can stable her, I’ll provide the feed. It’s just I’ve got Caper and he’s a bit of a handful.’ Norma pointed to a three-year-old stallion and then smiled at the quietly grazing Helen of Troy.

Julia pressed her face against Helen’s nose. ‘She’s beautiful,’ she whispered.

‘Well, I even put an advert in the local papers but I’ve had no offers yet. I was going to let the local riding school have her — she’s still got a lot of life in her. But she’s a big horse, over seventeen hands.’

Julia nuzzled the soft brown nose and was already in love with her. ‘Okay, I’ll take her.’ She beamed drunkenly at Norma. She was still plastered as she led the big horse along the manor’s drive. Dolly looked out from the drawing-room window, watching as Julia wove along the path.

‘What on earth is she doing with that?’

‘What?’ asked Kathleen, who was trying to remove a packed bag from the hoover.

‘Julia’s got a horse.’

Gloria peered up into Helen’s face. ‘Cor blimey, it’s enormous this, isn’t it?’

Connie reached out to stroke the horse and then stepped back. They all turned as Norma drove up in a clapped-out Land Rover. She hopped down. ‘I’ve brought her tack and feed. Is that the stable?’

The women looked at one another, not sure what was going on, as now Dolly and Kathleen came to the kitchen door.

‘Hi, Dolly. This is Norma and this is Helen of Troy.’ Julia grinned like a schoolgirl. ‘She’s been given to us, for free.’

‘Oh, yeah...’ Dolly looked on as Angela squeezed out, running to the horse.

Norma smiled at Dolly, and walked towards her, hand outstretched. She gave a hard handshake that almost floored Dolly. ‘She’ll be marvellous with kids. She’s thirteen years old, retired, but if you’re opening this as a children’s home she’ll be ideal. You can drop a bomb in front of her and she won’t even flinch. She can walk through a band or a riot and she’s as cool as a cucumber.’ Dolly felt a bit confused as to what was going on. Norma continued, ‘I’ve got a new hunter and I needed a home for Helen.’

Julia looked almost pleadingly at Dolly. ‘She’s a police horse, Dolly.’

Kathleen flinched as if the horse was about to arrest her. Dolly looked at Connie. Her voice was hardly audible, when she said, ‘Did she say what I think she just said?’

‘Yeah, it’s a police horse.’

‘Not the horse, Connie, the woman.’

Norma handed out bags of feed to Angela as Julia opened up the stables.

‘A minute, love,’ Dolly said, and went back into the kitchen, followed by a flushed Julia.

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she? And free! We don’t have to even pay for her feed.’

Dolly folded her arms. ‘Really? And Norma’s a policewoman, is she?’

Julia nodded. She was still plastered and reeked of booze.

Dolly sighed. ‘You should have asked me. I don’t like the filth, mounted or otherwise, poking their nose around and that one looks like she’s ready to move in.’

‘Oh, well, I can take it back. I just thought...’

‘You thought what? I don’t ride, I’ve not got any kids here yet and you’re leaving so what the hell am I gonna do with a horse?’

Julia gripped the back of the chair. ‘I want to stay on, Dolly. I’ll groom her, feed her... You wouldn’t have to do a single thing, and I’ll make sure Norma keeps her distance.’

‘You better. We got an arsenal of guns on the property and none of us are what you might call environmentally friendly.’

Julia was about to return to the yard when Dolly told her that Ester had gone. She was stunned. ‘Gone?’

‘About fifteen minutes ago. And if you don’t mind me saying it’s good riddance.’

Julia hadn’t believed that Ester could walk out without even saying goodbye. She checked that her belongings had gone from their bedroom before finally accepting it. She slipped downstairs for a bottle of vodka, which she took back to her room. She drank it neat from her tooth-mug, slugging it back, then decided not to bother with the tooth-mug and drank it straight from the bottle. Ester had gone, left her without so much as a note. Julia rested back against the pillow that still smelt of her perfume and started to cry, awful, silent tears, the way she had learnt to cry in prison. Ester had taken such care of her, she was afraid of nothing, and she had chosen Julia, walked straight up to her. The other girls sitting with their dinner trays had moved away from the table, but Julia had said nothing, just continued to eat, her eyes down, afraid of what Ester wanted.

‘You shooting up?’ Ester had said.

Julia had swallowed, still unable to look at her.

‘Bad stuff in here. You’d better go cold turkey. I’ll take care of you.’

Julia reached for the bottle, wanting to pass out. She didn’t want to hear that deep, wonderful gravel voice in her head, smell that thick sweet-scented perfume. Ester had walked out on her without saying goodbye. Ester was the love of Julia’s life and without her the fear returned, her confidence dwindled and her deep-seated guilt and shame resurfaced.

Hours later, so drunk she was hardly able to lift her head, she heard the phone ringing, cutting through her dulled senses, but she was incapable of standing upright.

‘I’m at the station,’ Audrey said.

‘I’ll be there, just wait in the car park.’ Dolly replaced the phone and went out to find Gloria. She was with Kathleen, hanging over the stable door. Dolly held up the keys to Gloria’s Mini. ‘I won’t be long, just get some groceries.’

Gloria rushed to her. ‘We got to talk, Dolly. Eddie’s guns — I really need them. I got to get some cash.’

Dolly opened the Mini and got inside. ‘We’ll talk about them later.’

‘They’re worth quite a bit, you know. Nearly thirty grand, Eddie said.’

Dolly wound down the window. ‘And they could have got us arrested. When I come back we’ll talk.’

‘Okay. I’ll cut you in, Dolly, that’s only fair.’ Dolly started the engine and backed the Mini down the drive, Gloria still following her. ‘Say twenty per cent?’

Dolly drove off and Gloria watched the car disappear down the drive before she turned back to Kathleen. ‘They’re my ruddy guns. She’s got to give them back to me, hasn’t she?’ Kathleen shaded her eyes to look towards the gates.

What you think she did with them?’ Gloria asked moodily.

‘Hid them, thank Christ,’ said Kathleen.

Audrey clutched her handbag, standing in the centre of the car park. Dolly pulled up and Audrey climbed into the Mini. The level-crossing gates were closed. ‘What’s up?’ Audrey asked, staring at the railway crossing.

‘Must be a train due.’

Raymond Dewey saw Dolly and waved. She lowered the window. ‘Hello, Raymond, you on duty, are you?’ He came to the car and shook her hand, then introduced himself to Audrey. She pressed herself back in her seat as his square head poked through the window. ‘How long will we be kept waiting?’ Dolly asked.

‘Oh, might be a few minutes. Not like the mail train, always a long delay every Thursday, always a delay. This is the three twenty, local.’ He returned to his stool to jot down notes in his precious book as Audrey and Dolly sat in silence. They watched the train pass in front of them before the gates slowly lifted.

‘Bloody nutter,’ said Audrey as they passed him, now gesturing them on like a traffic controller.

They went into the local pub and Audrey took a corner seat at the bay window as Dolly got the drinks. She clutched her bag, not sure how Dolly would take it, and when the gin and tonic was put down she knocked it back fast to try to calm her nerves. ‘Right, I’ve got you all I could. Twenty grand.’

Dolly sipped her drink. ‘I hope you’re joking.’

‘No, I’m not. It’s all I could get. I brought bank statements, everything, you can see for yourself that’s all I could get. The rest, like I told you, went into the villa. I’ll sell it, split the profits, but it’ll take a while.’ Audrey opened her bag and took out a thick envelope. She was about to pass it to Dolly when Norma walked up.

‘Hello, Mrs Rawlins.’

Dolly gave a tight, brittle smile. ‘Hello, Norma. I’d offer to buy you a drink but we’re just leaving. Audrey, this is Norma. She’s a mounted police officer.’

Audrey gaped. ‘Oh, nice to meet you.’

Dolly waved at Raymond as they passed him again and drove into the station car park. Audrey still clutched her bag. She was sweating with nerves, wishing Dolly would say something, but she drove in silence.

‘I’ll need my passport, Dolly, and me ticket for Spain.’

Dolly engaged the handbrake and leaned over to open the glove compartment. ‘Here, take them, and give me the money.’ Audrey passed her the envelope. She snatched it. She didn’t count the money, just shoved it into her pocket. ‘I don’t want to see you or hear from you again, Audrey. Just get out of my sight.’

Audrey fumbled with the door handle, couldn’t wait to get away. She ran into the station, afraid Dolly might get out and attack her — she’d turned those chipped-ice eyes on her with such hatred. But Dolly had no intention of running after Audrey. It was, as she had said, the last time she ever wanted to see her.

Twenty thousand pounds! And she had believed she would have millions. Well, she would make do. Somehow she’d make the house work. She wouldn’t let this set her back.

Gloria and Connie were sitting at the kitchen table playing noughts and crosses when Dolly got back. ‘Did you get milk?’ Connie asked.

‘No. Shops were closed, wasted journey.’

Gloria screwed up the paper. ‘About Eddie’s guns, Dolly.’

Dolly took off her coat. ‘We’ll go and get them when it’s dark but right now I’d like a cup of tea, if that’s all right with you — even if we haven’t got any milk.’

Julia was lying face down on the bed. She didn’t look up when Dolly tapped on the door and walked in. ‘I need a hand, Julia. We’re going to get the guns and—’ Julia tried to sit up but fell face forward. Dolly saw the empty bottle on the floor. ‘You’d better sleep it off, we’ll manage without you.’

‘We’ll need spades and a wheelbarrow,’ Dolly said to Gloria and then, as Connie, all dressed up, walked into the kitchen, ‘You going too, are you?’

Connie shook her head. ‘No, I’m going out with that builder bloke.’

Gloria nudged Connie and said to Dolly, ‘I told her earlier to get the old leg over and he’d maybe work for nothin’.’

Dolly shook her head at Gloria, as if she was a naughty kid, and then asked Connie to come into the room she now used as an office. She gave her an envelope with ten thousand pounds cash inside. ‘Give this to him, will you? Tell him he’ll get the rest next week and if he could get the men back to work over the weekend, I’d be grateful.’

‘Okay.’ Connie slipped the envelope into her pocket.

Dolly hesitated, then patted Connie’s arm. ‘Be nice to him. Be a help to me, know what I mean?’

Connie bit her lip. ‘Sure, pay my way, so to speak.’

‘Good. So you have a nice evening, then, and we’ll see you later.’

Connie met John outside the manor gates. He’d changed into a suit and Connie was touched by the effort he’d made. He was all fingers and thumbs, easing her inside, apologizing for the van, before they drove off.

‘I thought we’d eat out. Do you like Chinese?’

‘Chinese is fine.’

‘God, I’m hungry,’ complained Gloria, as she pushed the wheelbarrow through the woods.

Kathleen trudged along with two spades. ‘Got to hand it to you, Dolly, if you hadn’t stashed them, we’d be in a right old mess.’

Gloria scowled, all the time wondering just how much Dolly would tap her for Eddie’s guns, but the further they walked, the more she realized how together Dolly was to have hidden them so far from the house and to have done it on her own. As if she was reading her mind, Dolly looked at her. ‘I did it in three trips, Gloria, took half the night.’

Julia listened, her dulled senses making out the sound of the telephone ringing and ringing. She stumbled out of her room and almost fell down the stairs.

‘Anyone here? Hello?’

No one answered and the phone still rang. She lurched towards it, snatching it up. ‘Ester? Is that you?’

‘Is Connie there?’ said a man’s voice.

Julia swung round and stared into the kitchen. ‘Connie? Connie?’

Lennie sat back in the car, gazing out of the window.

‘She’s not here,’ Julia slurred.

‘Okay. I’m coming to meet her but I seem to be in a dead end road. How do I get to the Grange?’

Julia began to give him directions. As they were all leaving the manor, she supposed Connie must have arranged for Lennie to collect her. She was too drunk to think of the implications or to remember that Connie was terrified of him.

Lennie slipped the portable back into the glove compartment of his shining Porsche and started to reverse. He swore when the car sank into a pothole, the mud splashing the gleaming paintwork. Then he drove cautiously down the lane.

Connie giggled as the waiter presented John with the bill and his eyes popped at the amount, due to the champagne she had ordered. But he paid up, digging into the envelope Connie had given him from Dolly. She felt a bit bad about ordering champagne and became over-friendly, rubbing his arm and, beneath the table, pressing her legs hard against his. He flushed as she kicked off her shoe and let her toes stroke his crotch. He had never come across a woman like Connie and he felt inadequate, to say the least. ‘Do you think she’ll be able to pay the rest?’ he asked, trying to appear nonchalant as Connie’s toes stroked the fly of his trousers.

‘Oh, so you asked me out to find out about Mrs Rawlins?’

‘No, no! It’s just that I’m a one-man firm and I could go broke over this. I’ve ordered a lot of equipment.’

‘If Mrs Rawlins says she’ll pay you, then she will,’ Connie purred, leaning further towards him over the top of the table as her toes did all the walking below.

‘I’d better get you home.’

She looked up at him and giggled again. He was red in the face with embarrassment.

Gloria had taken over the digging as Kathleen heaved the first bag on to the wheelbarrow. ‘You’re stronger than you look, Dolly Rawlins. These weigh a ton.’

Angela pulled the brambles and sticks away from the third hiding place as Gloria stuck in the spade. They were on the brow of a small hill just outside the wooded perimeter of the manor’s land, and could see clearly the signal box below.

‘Who’s at the gates?’ Kathleen pointed.

Dolly looked up. She could see the flashing signal lights, the barred gates, and the builder’s van.

Gloria prodded her in the ribs. ‘Oi, he’s got a lot of hand movement down there. You think he’s givin’ her one or is it just light relief?’

Dolly grimaced. Sometimes Gloria’s crudeness really irritated her but she couldn’t help taking another look and it did seem as if John was having a heavy grope and petting session.

He was. He had Connie’s top undone and was kissing her neck and her breasts as she kept one eye on the signal lights.

‘Train’s coming,’ she whispered into his hot, flushed face.

He moaned, and for a moment she thought he was coming too but then he sat back. ‘I’m sorry.’

She buttoned her blouse and snuggled up to him. ‘Are you married?’

‘No, but I live with someone.’

‘And where does she think you are tonight?’

‘At the gym.’

‘Can I work out with you one day? I love doing weights.’

The train thundered past and the gates slowly opened. ‘Any time you like.’ John put the van into gear and they headed down the narrow lane back towards the manor.

Lennie reversed into a field gateway. He’d already driven past the manor, stopped, had a look at it and decided that the element of surprise would be more beneficial. He was just about to get out when the van passed him. Connie didn’t see him as she was talking to the bloke who was driving. Lennie saw the van drive into the manor and followed on foot, well hidden by the overhanging hedgerow.

They’d loaded the wheelbarrow and were pushing it back towards the manor. Dolly walked ahead, her arm slung around Angela’s shoulder. ‘You know you can join special government courses, get further education, Angela, proper training in something. You should think about it, love, but you’re welcome to stay on here for as long as you like, you know that. Do you like kids?’

‘Oh, yeah, and I’m used to them. I’ve got younger brothers still at school.’

Gloria muttered as she staggered along behind the wheelbarrow with all the guns as Kathleen carried the spades. They were still about a quarter of a mile from the manor.

Connie leaned in to John and gave him a long, lingering kiss. They broke away and then she kissed him again. ‘You’d better check your face before you go in. Lipstick!’ She giggled as he wiped his mouth. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’

He watched her wiggle and sashay her way to the front door, turn and do her Marilyn Monroe pout. He blew her a kiss, felt stupid and quickly put the van into reverse. As he drove out, he didn’t notice Lennie.

‘Connie!’

She knew his voice immediately, but in the darkness she couldn’t see him. ‘Lennie?’

He stepped forward and bowed. ‘Surprise, surprise!’

She began to pant with terror. ‘You stay away from me, Lennie. Don’t hurt me!’

He walked towards her, his arms out wide, smiling. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. Why would I do that? I’ve just come to take you home, Connie.’

‘I’m not coming with you, Lennie. You got to leave me alone.’

He came closer and now he wasn’t playing games. ‘You owe me, Connie, and you’re gonna pay it off or work it off. Suit yourself ’

‘I won’t go anywhere with you.’

She screamed and he dived for her but she kicked out, catching him in the groin. He lost his footing, tripping over a plank left by the builders. He swore, cradling his balls and gritting his teeth in fury as he screamed, ‘Connieeeeeeeee! Don’t fuck with me!’

She was running, anywhere, any place to get away from him. He started after her, yelling with rage, and she sobbed and shouted at him to stay away as she ran on, heading up towards the woods.

Dolly was rigid. She hissed at Gloria to keep her mouth shut as they all heard the sobbing and screaming.

Gloria let go of the handles of the wheelbarrow. ‘It’s Connie.’ She ran towards the sound of the crying.

Dolly started to follow and then turned to Kathleen and Angela. ‘You stay put, the pair of you, until I come back and get you.’ She tore after Gloria through the woods, hearing another high-pitched scream.

Gloria had to slap Connie’s face. ‘It’s me, Connie, it’s me, Gloria.’

Connie clung to her. ‘He’s here. Oh, God, Gloria, he’s here and he’s gonna kill me. He was chasing me, he’s going to kill—’

‘Connie, listen to me.’ Gloria whacked her hard again. ‘Nobody is going to touch you, all right? We’re all here.’

Dolly was breathless when she reached them. ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s that bloke, her pimp. He’s come after her.’

Dolly gripped Connie’s arm. ‘He won’t lay a finger on you. Gloria, go and get the other two. I’ll take Connie back to the house with me.’

A frightened Connie clung to Dolly as they made their way to the house. The grounds were ominously dark and silent. Wherever he was, they felt as if he was watching their every move and they ran the last few yards past the stables and into the safety of the house. Dolly latched the door behind them and Connie sobbed, ‘What if he’s here, in the house?’

Gloria, Kathleen and Angela wheeled the rest of the guns into the stable yard and then carried them inside. Connie was sitting with a large brandy, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, as Julia sat with her head in her hands, so hung-over she could hardly speak.

Gloria held up a shotgun. ‘Right, we got enough of these. If that prick shows his face, I’ll blow it off.’

‘We’ll search the house,’ Dolly said. ‘Some of the windows are out so if he’s here, we’d better find him. We’ll have a good look round, then you, Connie, lock yourself in a room with Angela.’

Connie began to sob again and Dolly was almost irritated with her. ‘Shut up, for God’s sake! And you, Julia, get some coffee down you and sober up.’

Connie wiped her face with the back of her hand. ‘He said he’d take me back.’

Dolly shook her by the shoulders. ‘Nobody will make you do anything you don’t want to do, okay? We’ll sort it, Annie-Get-Your-Gun-Gloria and me.’

Gloria went over the grounds with the shotgun at the ready. She checked the stables, the outhouses and the yard, and even went up to the woods, but an owl hooted which gave her the willies so she scuttled back to the front door of the manor. It was ajar and she pushed it slowly. ‘Anyone here?’

Dolly stood there with her hands on her hips. ‘Yes. Me, you fool. Did you see anything out there?’

‘Nope. Maybe he saw us and pissed off.’

‘Yeah, I think you’re right, but we’ll keep her upstairs with Angela. Then we can sort out the weapons.’

Ester drove into the underground car park of the Club Cabar. She’d been to three and this was her last hope. She hadn’t many options: it was Steve Rooney or back to the Grange. She locked up the Range Rover, checked her hair and make-up, pulled her black dress down a bit further to show off her shoulders and tits and changed her driving shoes for spike heels. ‘Right, gel, do the business.’

She walked casually, full of confidence, towards the private lifts to the club. The car park was used by a number of offices in the day but taken over by the club at night so they had their own small lift leading directly into their reception. As the grille slid back, a thick-set muscle-bound bouncer in an ill-fitting evening suit and crushed carnation looked over any customers entering from the car park, as it was very much a members-only club. He nodded at Ester.

She gave him a cursory waft of her hand. ‘Is Steve in?’

‘Yeah, he’s wiv someone now. I’ll tell ’im you’re ’ere.’

‘Thank you,’ she said crisply, and headed towards the main room of the club. Its small sunken dance floor was empty but you could hardly see your hand in front of your face for the blinking neon strips. At least the ornate, over-brassy bar was well lit and the row of red velvet-topped high stools had only one occupant: a swarthy, fat little man, drinking from a long glass with a profusion of fruit and paper umbrellas sticking out of it. He was surrounded by sexy blondes with tight envelope-sized mini-skirts and tied blouse tops showing a lot of cleavage. Even their high-heeled shoes were higher than Ester’s. They were giggling and whispering to each other as the poor sucker with the paper umbrella almost up his nose slurped a drink that had probably set him back a tenner. The girls would make sure he was parted from a lot more before the night was out.

Ester perched on a stool as far away from the fat man as possible. The slant-eyed barman was doing a lot of gesticulating with his martini shaker to the deafening, thudding rock music that made it impossible for anyone to have a conversation.

‘Hi, Ester, how ya doin?’ the barman lisped.

‘I’m doing fine. Gimme a Southern Comfort, lemonade, slice of lemon and crushed ice, easy on the lemonade.’ She lit a cigarette as she spoke, but he knew what she liked and was already searching through the array of bottles. He skimmed up and down the bar and then whisked out a paper napkin and a bowl of peanuts before placing her drink down with a smile.

‘On the house.’

‘Cheers.’ She sipped. He’d OD’d on the lemonade. Through the mirror and brass fittings she saw Steve Rooney talking to the crushed carnation, who gestured at the bar. Ester acknowledged Rooney, who put up his hand to indicate five minutes.

A few more punters arrived and wandered around. Ester signalled for a refill but stipulated no more lemonade, then took a handful of peanuts. It was strange. She’d been out of the business a lone time, and didn’t know any of the girls now. She shook her head and smiled. What a life! She wanted out. She hated the whole scene, which was why she’d moved to the Grange, and for a while she had been coining it. She didn’t have time for any further reminiscence as Rooney tapped her shoulder and pointed at his office. She slid off the stool, drained her glass and followed, flicking a look at the little fat man. ‘I’d get out while you’re still on top, man.’

Rooney eased himself round his fake antique desk and then perched on it. ‘So, how’s tricks, darlin’? I just hope you’re not touching me for a few quid. As you can see, we’re not exactly filling the joint and it’s Friday.’

‘It’ll pick up, always used to.’

His polished Gucci loafer tapped the side of the desk. ‘What do you want, Ester? I know you’ve schlepped round a few places tonight.’

‘Warned off me, were you?’

He smiled. His eyes were pale blue covered by tinted glasses. ‘You’re not still wheeling around in that Range Rover, are you?’

She lit a cigarette, clicking off her lighter.

‘You really are stupid, you know that, don’t you? You tried it on with the wrong kind, Ester. They got a lot of dough and they’ll use it to find you.’

‘No kidding. Doesn’t scare me.’

‘It should. That was a stupid move. They paid out a lot of cash for you, and what do you do?’

‘I did three years and I kept my mouth shut. They ripped me off.’

‘No, they didn’t. How were they to know you had a string of offences as long as both arms? They paid your taxes and your lawyer, and you come out, try to nail them for more cash, then nick the kid’s motor.’

She stubbed out the cigarette. ‘They got enough of them. What’s one little Range Rover?’

‘It wasn’t what it was, it was you doin’ it. It was stupid.’

‘Yeah, maybe, but you seem to know a lot about my business.’

Rooney sighed and picked a bit of fluff off his Armani jacket. ‘Because I supply them now, okay? I’m not gonna hide anything from you. It’s not as if I nicked your clients. You were inside.’

‘Yes, I was, and now I need a job, Rooney.’

‘Don’t look in my direction. I can’t help you and I’m not going to put myself out for you, Ester. You never gave me a leg up when I needed it.’

‘But I sent a lot of clients your way, you cheap shit.’ His face tightened and Ester would have liked to smack him. Rooney had once been a barman she had hired for special parties, back in the old days when she ran a house for two major club owners. They’d have the clients drinking and eating at their respectable joints and when they wanted a girl Ester supplied them. She kept ten good-looking tarts, and they were always busy. There were private parties for movie stars, MPs, tided perverts; in fact anyone the club owners gave membership to would at some time or other end up at the Notting Hill Gate house... until it was busted. Ester had served a few years way back then, and when she came out of prison, she had been determined that the next place would be her own, so she turned tricks solo for four years, working the main hotels until she had enough to put down on Grange Manor House. Rooney, a barman at Notting Hill Gate, had learned fast, and soon after her bust, which he was never questioned about, he had gone to work for the club owners.

It had been Rooney who had sent her the Arab clients for the manor, and he’d taken a cut. But, just like her bust at Notting Hill Gate, when it went down at the Grange Rooney’s name was never mentioned. Rooney had even suggested to her that if she played her cards right, she might even earn extra by making a couple of videos of certain clients at the manor. He had sold a few for her, just light porn stuff, but when she told him about the tape she’d made of his Arab clients’ kids, he had walked away. He told her that if she had any sense, she would as well. A couple of movie stars caught with their pants down was one thing but not the so-called flowing-robed royalty: that was asking for trouble.

‘You don’t know how to say thank you, do you?’ she said curtly.

Rooney leaned close. ‘Sweetheart, I owe you fuck all. You done nothing for me. Whatever I done, I done all by meself.’

She laughed. ‘You’re still an illiterate shit.’

‘Maybe I am, but I’m a fucking sight richer than you are and I don’t want any aggro. That’s why I’m in business and you’re nowhere.’

She was about to remind him of who gave him his first job, but there was a rap at the office door and Brian, the crushed carnation, appeared.

‘There’s a party of six kids, they said to ask for you. None of them are members but they look as if they got a few readies.’

Ester stood up, smoothed down her dress and saw the car keys on the desk. She whipped them up fast and then picked up her handbag. ‘Well, I’ll be going.’

Rooney asked her to go out of the back entrance. ‘I don’t want any aggro, Ester. I’m sorry.’

She pushed past him and he looked at Brian. ‘If she’s in that fucking Range Rover, get it.’

Brian moved away as Rooney closed his office door and headed into the club’s reception.

Ester walked out through the kitchens, down the fire escape and into the car park. She was searching in her bag for the Range Rover keys when she saw Brian stepping out of the lift, accompanied by another equally thuggish bouncer. They walked nonchalantly towards the Range Rover and leaned against it. ‘This isn’t yours, is it, Ester? Give me the keys, darlin’.’

‘Piss off.’

Brian made a grab for her and she twisted the keys into her fist, jabbing hard at his face. She caught his right eye, a beaut, and he backed away. Ester felt her hair being torn out by the roots by his friend and she screamed, hurling the keys at him. But by that time Brian was back and taking a swing. Ester fell on to the dirty garage floor and tried to crawl away. She was kicked in the head, the ribs and the groin, curled up in a tight ball to protect herself, but they kept on kicking until she half rolled beneath a car.

She stayed there, wedged under it, as they threw her belongings on to the ground before they drove the Range Rover out of the car park. She moaned, feeling her ribs, her face. She then searched for her handbag and dragged her body upright. It was agony.

When she pressed the alarm on the keys she’d taken from Rooney they lit up a brand-new Saab convertible and, as sick as she felt, she couldn’t help but smile. It was beautiful. She was just about to drag her belongings together when she heard the lift opening. Rooney slid back the gate. ‘I’m sorry about that, Ester, but I’ve got to take the car back and if you’ve got any sense you take that tape back to them.’

She picked up her case. ‘Thanks for the advice.’

Rooney peeled off two fifty-pound notes and tossed them towards her. Take a cab.’

She wouldn’t let him see her grovel and pick up the notes, so she stood there until the lift had disappeared, then picked up the money, wincing in pain, and opened the boot of the Saab, tossing in her case.

‘Fuck you, Rooney.’ She got in and drove out fast, smiling.

Gloria had all the guns laid out on the kitchen table, a formidable collection, and she was in her element as she fingered them, showing them off as if they were fashion accessories. Kathleen wouldn’t go near them but hung back, eyes popping. Julia touched the Hechler and Koch machine-gun. ‘My God! You had these stashed in the house?’

Dolly was uneasy with them but at the same time knew she was looking at hard cash. ‘What are they worth, did you say?’

‘Thirty grand at least,’ Gloria said proudly.

Dolly nodded. ‘Well, the sooner they’re out of here the better. You tell that husband of yours I want a cut, fifty per cent. If he doesn’t like it...’

Gloria sniggered. ‘He can’t really do a lot about it. He’s doing eighteen, Dolly.’

‘Yes, I know. Just don’t want him sending any goons round so get a contact and get rid of them — fast.’

Gloria began to roll up the shotguns in their padded cloths. She was almost tender, taking great care in replacing each one in its case. Gloria quite obviously knew what she was doing and Julia couldn’t help but be a little impressed. ‘Can you use these?’

‘Course I can. I belong to one of the top gun clubs in the country. You got to know what you’re sellin’ or buyin’.’ She picked up a .45, showing Julia the cartridges.

Dolly turned on her angrily. ‘Just put them away, Gloria!’

‘Right, right.’ As Dolly walked out, Gloria grinned at Julia. ‘You know, they say Hitler’s mistress never died in the bunker with him. That one, dead ringer for Eva Braun.’

Julia smiled, and put on the kettle to brew some coffee.

Angela was sitting holding Connie’s hand. She was still scared, jumping at every creak in the house, and sprang up when Dolly walked in.

‘I’m going to bed. Julia will stay downstairs just in case he comes back but I think he’s gone.’

Connie stammered, ‘He’ll be back, Dolly. He’ll never leave me alone.’

Dolly didn’t want to hear it all over again. ‘How did he know where you were?’

Connie paused. ‘I might have mentioned it, I don’t remember.’

‘Well, then, you got nobody else to blame, have you? Goodnight, Angela love.’

Angela shut the door and went back to sit with Connie. ‘Why don’t you call the police about him?’

Connie sniffed. ‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘Well, he can’t knock you around and get away with it.’

‘No? Who’re you kidding?’ Connie wiped her nose with a sodden piece of tissue. ‘All my life I’ve been on the end of a fist. First my dad, only he did a lot more than knock me around. My poor mum was so scared of him she used to lock herself in a cupboard. Even when she knew what he was doing, she didn’t stop him. It meant that it wasn’t her getting a beating and... Every man I’ve been with. I dunno why but I always thought Lennie was different, I really thought he loved me.’

Angela slipped her arm around Connie. ‘We’ll all look after you here.’

‘Can’t hide out here for ever though, can I? Because he’ll come back, you know, he thinks I’m his property.’ Angela was getting bored. Connie was going over and over the same ground. ‘If I could get an agent, a decent one, I know I could make my living doing proper modelling, I know I could. I can’t do anything else.’

‘How old are you?’ asked Angela innocently, and was taken aback when Connie turned on her.

‘Mind your own fucking business.’

Ester kept her foot pressed to the floor. She hit a hundred and twenty, passing everything on the road, and then suddenly felt sick and veered over on to the hard shoulder. She only just got out before she vomited and sat with head bent, the driver’s door open, as she waited for the dizziness to pass.

Julia saw the headlights and went to the window, wishing she had one of Gloria’s guns. But then she heard the clip-clip of high heels heading towards the back door.

Angela woke and sat up. Connie was by the window. ‘I just saw a car drive up.’

Angela listened. She heard a door open and close below. The next moment there was a light tap and Gloria appeared with a loaded shotgun. ‘Did you hear someone?’ Angela nodded. ‘Right, you lock the door and stay put. I’ll see to him.’

Gloria crept down the landing and almost blasted Dolly. ‘Cor, you give me a fright!’ she exclaimed.’

‘What you think you’re playing at? Put the gun away,’ snapped Dolly.

‘Somebody come in the house, we all heard it. Shush, listen.’ They could hear a chair scraping and then Julia talking. They inched down the stairs together, Gloria in front with the shotgun.

Julia examined Ester’s ribs. They were cracked, she reckoned, the deep, awful bruises looking like massive purple balls.

‘I just pranged the car — steering wheel hit me,’ Ester said, gasping with pain.

Julia produced a bandage and had just begun to wind it around Ester’s midriff when the door burst open. Ester jumped out of her chair, flinching, as Dolly and Gloria marched in.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ Gloria snarled.

‘Yes. Sorry about this, Dolly. I was driving along and had a bit of an accident. Is it okay if I just stay for a night or two?’

Dolly folded her arms. ‘You had a prang? In a car? Who you kidding?’

Ester turned away her bruised face, changing the subject fast. Whose is that flash Porsche parked down the lane?’

Julia looked at Dolly, then back at Ester. ‘Our lane?’

‘Whose do you think? I passed it on my way in.’

Gloria ran upstairs to ask Connie what car Lennie drove. She was back a moment later. ‘It’s his.’

Julia helped Ester to bed and then joined Gloria and Dolly to search the grounds. This time Dolly carried the shotgun, making Gloria hold up the flashlight. They toured the stables, the outhouses, and saw Ester’s Saab.

‘Where did she get this?’

Julia explained that Ester had told her she’d traded the Range Rover in.

‘Did she?’ Dolly said, already suspicious. But the search was uppermost in their minds. They walked together round to the front of the manor, getting more and more anxious as they began to wonder if Lennie was hiding in the house. The beam of the flashlight moved slowly over the grounds, the overgrown bushes and hedgerows, and then swept across the swimming pool.

‘Wait! Move it back, down the deep end of the pool.’ Dolly was squinting in the darkness, trying to work out what she had seen. They walked slowly towards what looked like a bundle of rags but as they moved closer, it was obviously the body of a man.

Lennie was lying face down, his hands floating in the stagnant water in front of him, one leg caught round some old rope.

Dolly hesitated only a moment. Already there were guns in the house, and her application for the social services ran through her mind. A body was all they needed. ‘Get him out and move him.’

Julia stared at her. ‘Are you crazy?’

‘No. We get him out and bury him as fast as we can. It’s almost dawn.’

‘Don’t you think we should call the police?’ Julia asked.

‘No, I don’t. Get Connie and Angela — we’ll all have to help drag him out. We’ll put him in the back of Gloria’s car.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Julia said, and Dolly turned on her, her face like parchment in the cold night.

‘Okay. You take care of it, then.’ She stalked away in fury.

Connie was brought out, and Gloria waded into the filthy water with a hook, to move the body closer. ‘Is it him?’

Connie broke down sobbing, gasping that she didn’t do it, she never even touched him. Dolly rejoined them, standing slightly apart.

‘Well, look at the bang on his head. He must have cracked it on the side of the pool. Nobody’s accusing you of doin’ anything. Just stop howling.’ Gloria waded in deeper, drawing the body closer to the steps.

It took three of them to drag him out of the pool. Julia pulled a big sheet of polythene from the roof of the house and they dragged the body towards it. They turned out his pockets as Gloria drove the Mini round, and rolled the body in the polythene, then lifted it into the back of the car. ‘Now what?’ Gloria asked, bending down to check the big end of the car. ‘You know this has only just been repaired.’ Dolly checked the time: it was almost five o’clock and the builders would be starting at seven. It didn’t give them enough time: they couldn’t dump it in broad daylight.

‘Drive it back to the lean-to and we’ll leave it there until tomorrow night.’

‘What? In my car?’

‘Yes, Gloria, unless you can think of somewhere better,’ Dolly retorted.

By the time they returned to the house, Dolly had a pot of coffee on the stove and some toast made. They all trooped in and started to wash their hands, all suddenly quiet.

Ester walked in. ‘Everything okay?’

‘What do you think? We got her bleedin’ boyfriend stashed in the back of me car and a kitchen full of guns,’ Gloria said angrily.

Connie broke down into heaving sobs again and this time Dolly turned on her. ‘Shut up, all of you. Now sit down and listen.’ They sat like kids, almost grateful that she was taking charge. ‘You, Connie, go out to his car. Here are his keys and wallet. Any money we take but burn his cards. You then drive the car back to London, go to his flat, get the log book.’ She proceeded to give Connie directions to a garage she knew in North London. She was to sell the car, leave notes cancelling the milkman and newspapers, and make it look as if Lennie had gone away. She was to clean the car of any fingerprints, likewise the flat, and she was then to return to the manor.

Connie nodded dumbly, not really comprehending, still so shaken that her whole body wouldn’t stop trembling. ‘Go on then, get started. Get rid of that car as soon as possible.’

Dolly spooned sugar into her coffee. ‘Right, Julia, and you, Kathleen, go through the local papers, find out the most recent funeral, then check out the grave in the cemetery.’

‘What?’ Julia was about to laugh, and again she was thrown off balance by the coldness in Dolly’s eyes.

‘Best way to get rid of a body. Dig up the grave, dump him and cover it. Now Ester, that car out back. Is it hot? How did you get it?’

‘I bought it. Well, it’s on the never-never in part-exchange for the Range Rover. It’s not nicked, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘Gloria, you go and see Eddie. The sooner those guns are out of this place the better.’

Angela had remained silent throughout. Dolly patted her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry to get you involved in this, love, but I think we’re doing the best for all of us and with you driving the car that took out Jimmy Donaldson, I just think the less we see of the filth the better.’

Suddenly, hearing the name of the man she had run over made Angela’s knees knock together. ‘I won’t say anything,’ she said.

Dolly frowned. ‘Well, I hope not, and that goes for everyone here.’

‘It’s nothing to do with me. I can’t help anyone in my condition and you’re the boss,’ Ester said, lisping through her bruised mouth.

Dolly turned on her. ‘Yes, I am, as long as you’re in my house — and don’t you forget it, any of you. Now I’m going to have a couple of hours’ kip.’

She walked out. They were impressed by her — and a little afraid of her coldness.

Kathleen swallowed and nudged Gloria. ‘I’m glad she’s not found out about that business down the sauna. I think she’d bloody kill us.’