She’s Out

Chapter 12

Dolly was directed to sit on a row of chairs in the draughty town hall corridor. Mr Crow’s secretary walked out of his office. She didn’t even glance in Dolly’s direction. Dolly stood up, watched the squat-legged woman disappear, carrying a thick file. She reckoned she’d at least have a few moments so she tapped and entered Mr Crow’s office. She was through with waiting.

Mr Crow looked up, frowning when he saw her close his door. ‘Mrs Rawlins, did my secretary tell you—’ He was interrupted.

‘Yes, she said I could have a few moments. It won’t take any longer.’

He pursed his lips and folded his hands together, priestlike. ‘I am a very busy man.’

‘I’m busy too but, like I said, this won’t take a moment. I’ve come about the letter.’

‘Mrs Rawlins, the decision was unanimous. Obviously you can take private action if you wish, that is entirely up to you, but as far as I am concerned I do not at this stage feel you would be advised to proceed.’

‘All I want is to make a home for kids without one.’

‘I am aware of that, but it is my job to make sure any child placed into care will have not only the right supervision but the right environment.’

‘Is it my criminal record that went against me?’

‘Obviously that was taken into consideration, and we are also aware that you have been questioned by a DCI Craigh regarding—’ Again he was interrupted.

‘You referring to the warrants? The house was searched, the police found nothing incriminating and—’

Mr Crow sucked in his breath. ‘Mrs Rawlins, under the circumstances, and with reference to an on-site visit to your property, it was decided that—’ Another interruption.

‘You didn’t really need one, though, did you?’

‘I’m sorry?’

She leaned forward. ‘Well, you know the manor house well, don’t you? According to Miss Freeman you were a regular visitor when it was run as a brothel. I am correct, aren’t I?’

Pink dots appeared on his cheeks. ‘Just what are you inferring, Mrs Rawlins?’

‘That perhaps you had an ulterior motive for rejecting my application, that had nothing to do with me or my criminal background.’

‘Be careful what you are insinuating, Mrs Rawlins. You are, I am sure, fully aware you remain on licence for the rest of your life and—’

‘I’m just stating a fact,’ she said quietly.

‘Then please, Mrs Rawlins, be careful. I have told you this was a unanimous decision by all members of the board. We do not feel that you would be the right person to be given access to young children. We do not feel that the manor house would be suitable accommodation. It is my only intention to make sure any foster carer recommended by the social services department is both mentally and physically—’

She stood up, yet again interrupting him, this time leaning right over his desk. ‘You know, my husband said he could never go straight because people like you, like the police, would never allow him to. Well, I know about you.’

Mr Crow stood up, the pink blobs spreading. His whole face seemed redder, although this time not with embarrassment but with anger. ‘I’d like you to leave my office now.’

‘I’m going, and I won’t come back. I waited a long time to make a home for kids a reality but it was stupid, wasn’t it? I never stood a chance. Don’t worry, I won’t let on that you’re a two-faced bastard.’

She left, closing the door quietly behind her, and he could hear her footsteps on the marble corridor outside. He was shaking with anger but he was now confident that he had made the right decision. He would make sure there were no repercussions and would add to her report that she had lied to the board. Contrary to Mrs Rawlins’s denial, Ester Freeman was still resident at Grange Manor House.

Dolly drove back to the manor. She had to wait at the level crossing for ten minutes. This time she couldn’t be bothered to talk to Raymond Dewey who sat, as usual, on his little trainspotter’s stool, jotting down his times and numbers. He waved at her but she turned towards the lake and the small narrow bridge the train moved across. She got out of the car and walked a few paces, still focusing on the bridge. Then she turned round, towards the station and the signal box. She sauntered over to Raymond and gave him a forced smile.

‘Hello, Raymond, how are you today?’

‘I’m very well. This is the twelve fifteen from Marylebone.’

‘Is it? You know every train, do you? All the right times and the delays?’

‘That’s my job.’

‘I bet there’s one train you don’t know the times of.’

‘No, there isn’t one. I know every train that passes through this station, how long they take to cross the bridge and—’

‘So you write them all down, then?’

‘Yes,’ he said, proudly proffering his thick wedge of school exercise books. ‘Each train has its own book.’

Dolly took one of the books with his thick scrawled writing across the front. ‘Mail train.’ She flipped over the pages. He had listed every delivery, time of arrival at and departure from the station, plus delays at the crossing.

‘You’re very thorough, Raymond,’ Dolly said, as her eyes took in his dates and times. She then shut the book and passed it back to him as the lights changed and the train went by. As the gates opened, she returned to the Mini.

‘Thank you very much, Raymond.’ She smiled and waved as she drove past him. She felt strangely calm, almost as if it was fate. Had she been subconsciously thinking about it? It seemed so natural. It certainly wouldn’t be easy but, then, she had always liked a challenge. This would be one — but it would also be a terrifyingly dangerous one.

A few minutes later, Dolly parked the car and walked up into the woods. From there she had a direct view of the station, the bridge, the lake and the level crossing. She spent over half an hour carefully checking the layout of the land. She could tell by one look why the police had chosen this specific station to unload the money from the road on to the train. There were only two access roads, both very narrow, and room for only one vehicle at a time. Anyone attempting to hold up the security wagon as it delivered the money to the train would be cut off. The station could easily be manned by as few as four or six police officers and no one could hide out there. If they did, if they hit the train standing in the platform, they wouldn’t have a hope in hell of transporting the money by road as there was no access for the getaway vehicles. The tracks were lined with hedgerows and wide open fields, not a road in sight, and the train would head across the bridge, travelling at up to eighty miles an hour.

Dolly studied the bridge. Fifty-five feet high, the lake beneath, no access either side of the tracks, just a narrow walkway. She knew it would be impossible. How could you hold up the train on the bridge and get away with heavy mail bags on foot? It couldn’t be done. Then she looked down at the lake, back to the bridge. If you got a boat, you’d still have to reach the shore, and no vehicles could get down there. Again, there were no roads, just fields, hedges and streams.

Dolly was so immersed in her thoughts that she spun round in shock when she heard twigs cracking, her heart pounding. Julia appeared, riding Helen of Troy.

‘Sorry if I made you jump. I did call out!’

Dolly covered her fright, smiling. ‘I didn’t hear you — I didn’t even see you, come to think about it. You been here long?’

‘No, I just rode up, cut across the fields.’ Julia dismounted and tied up the horse. ‘How did it go at the social services?’ she asked.

‘It didn’t. It’s finished.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘So am I. Are they easy to ride?’

‘Yeah. Why, you thinking of taking lessons?’

Dolly moved tentatively towards Helen, putting out her hand to stroke her nose.

‘She won’t bite you. Be confident, they know when you’re nervous.’ Julia moved to stand behind Dolly, resting her arm round her shoulders.

Dolly slowly petted Helen’s nose again. ‘That Norma... she said this was police-trained?’

‘Yep. She’s very solid, nothing scares her. As Norma said, she’s bomb-proof. Be good for kids to learn on.’

Dolly withdrew her hand, her face drawn. ‘Yes, well, there won’t be any kids to teach. I’ll see you back at the house.’

She trudged off as Julia unhitched the reins and got back into the saddle. She rode away, not even aware that Dolly had turned back to watch her as she cantered into the fields.

There was a way to get to that train. Julia was now galloping, disappearing from sight as she jumped the hedges.

DCI Craigh and DI Palmer looked over the forensic reports taken from the red Volvo. There was no indication that the car had been involved in any accident, no traces of blood, no body tissues. They didn’t have enough to bring charges against Gloria Radford and, even if she had hired the car, they had no evidence that she had run over James Donaldson. In other words, they had fuck all.

‘Now what?’

Craigh looked at Palmer and shrugged. ‘Well, we’re up for a hard rap around the knuckles, that’s for starters. The Super’s getting his knickers in a twist, and we’re gonna have to iron this out somehow.’

Palmer looked over their reports and noted the vast amount it had cost Thames Valley and the Met to mount the searches of the manor, together with the surveillance. All would have to be costed and all they had to date was one arrest. Kathleen O’Reilly.

Craigh tugged at his hair. ‘I’m going to interview O’Reilly again. So far she’s not said a bloody word, but you never know.’

‘Bring her in, shall I?’

Kathleen had been taken to Holloway. She would stand trial again for the previous charges of fraud and kiting but, as Craigh had said, she was unforthcoming and had only admitted to her name and the previous charges. She insisted she was just staying at the manor and that Dolly Rawlins had no knowledge of her previous record or that she was on a wanted list. All she did was pay Rawlins rent.

Mike appeared, sidled round and tried to make himself invisible when Craigh nabbed him. ‘I’m going to talk to O’Reilly again but the word from the Gov is to stay well clear of Rawlins. We got to get ourselves out of this mess so you make sure your reports are tight as a nut.’

Mike hesitated. ‘What about my sister?’

‘Less said about her the better. We’re in enough trouble as it is so just get on with the backlog of work on your desk.’ Craigh glared at him. ‘This isn’t over yet, son. We could all be in trouble. We never found any diamonds so that’s been sorted, understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Craigh walked away, and Mike wandered to his desk and sat down. His heart was thudding in his chest. Had he got away with it? Or was that call from Rawlins going to be some kind of threat? He felt sick to his stomach and when he reached for his files his hand was shaking as if it didn’t belong to him. He was scared that Rawlins would put him in the frame. If she did, he was finished.

Kathleen was as non-committal with Craigh as she had been the night she was arrested. She didn’t know anything about any diamonds or guns; all she did was rent a room from Dolly Rawlins.

‘What you think she is? Some kind of female Al Capone? Why don’t you leave her alone? All she’s doin’ is tryin’ to open a home for kids and you’re harassing her, that’s what you’re doing.’

Craigh thanked her for her observations and left. Kathleen seemed to know she would go down for at least five years this time. She appeared resigned to it. Maybe she didn’t know anything about Rawlins and maybe, he began to mull it over, they had been pressured into the searches and warrants by Mike Withey because he had personal motives. The more Craigh thought about it the more he made up his mind that if the Super tapped on his shoulder, then he’d point the finger at Mike. He wasn’t going to take all the blame. Mike Withey had a lot to answer for and if it came down to it he would have to.

Dolly sat with a mug of tea. She was deep in thought when Ester walked in. ‘Angela’s still in her room. Gloria took up a coffee at breakfast time, told her to get packed, but she’s still in there.’

Dolly got up and poured the dregs of the tea into the sink. ‘I don’t care, just get rid of her. I got to go up to London, have a word with Kathleen.’

Connie walked in with three sheets of paper. ‘Dolly, you wanted John to give estimates for the damage when the police raided the house.’

Dolly inspected the figures and gave a wonderful smile. ‘These are good. Oh, Connie, can I have a word?’ She said to Ester, ‘Can you leave us for a minute?’

Ester sloped off, and Dolly dried the mug carefully, placing it back on its hook. There’s a signal box at the station, young bloke on duty — I think there’s two of them. Will you get to know them? Find out what time they come on duty, when they’re off and who does nights, that kind of thing.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I want you to.’ Connie pulled a face and Dolly moved closer. ‘This time, Connie, if needs be you fuck them because I want that information. I want you to know that signal box layout better than your own body, understand me?’

Connie stepped back. ‘Yes.... all right.’

‘Good — and don’t tell any of the others, just get on with it.’

Dolly went out of the back door and called Julia, who was leading Helen of Troy back into the stables. ‘A minute, love.’

Ester caught Connie as she went up the stairs. ‘What was that about?’

Connie looked back down the stairs. ‘She said not to tell you.’

‘So, what did she want?’

Connie repeated what Dolly had told her then carried on up the stairs. Ester was about to go into the kitchen when she overheard Dolly talking to Julia. ‘You see Norma, try and find out about the security at the station.’

‘Why?’ Julia asked, as she pulled off her boots.

‘Don’t ask questions, just do it. I want to know about the local police and the security around the station. She’ll know. If she doesn’t then fine, but test her out.’

Julia felt uneasy but there was a toughness to Dolly that unnerved her so she kept quiet.

Dolly walked into the hall. She saw the drawing-room door closing: Ester had made a quick move in there so she wouldn’t be discovered. ‘Ester.’

Ester popped her head out, acting surprised. ‘Oh! What you want?’

‘That kid, the trainspotter. He’s got books, train times and—’

‘We can get you a timetable you know, Dolly.’

Dolly’s mouth was set in a thin tight line. ‘Yes, I know, but I want the times and details of one specific train. The mail train. Get his book off him but do it without him knowing.’

‘That shouldn’t be too hard — he’s mental anyway.’

Dolly picked up the phone and began to dial. Ester hovered a moment before she went into the kitchen.

Julia was still there, drinking a cup of tea. ‘She’s planning something, isn’t she?’ she said.

Ester nodded. ‘Yeah. I knew it. I always knew that if she had her back to the wall she’d come up with something.’

‘Yeah, but what is it?’

Ester leaned close, one eye on the door. ‘I think it’s the security wagon that delivers the money to the mail train.’

Julia let out her breath. ‘Jesus Christ.’

Ester kept her eye on the door, afraid Dolly would walk in. ‘She held back three shotguns from Gloria’s stash. She reckoned she was going to do something. Well, she was right.’

Julia rubbed her arms. ‘Do we really want to be involved in it, though?’

Ester nudged her, grinning. ‘What do you think? Let’s just play her along, see what pans out. In the meantime, we got this place, we got board and food, so why not?’

Dolly drove into George Fuller’s car park. He was the lawyer who had represented her at her trial. A clever, iron-faced man employed by many top-level crooks, he was expensive but he was as tough as his face and even when he smiled a greeting he seemed to be sneering.

‘Hello, Dolly, good to see you. Sit down.’

She perched on a chair in his immaculate office and passed over the estimates from the builders. ‘I’m being harassed. I want them off my back, George.’

He nodded, then lifted his briefcase on to the desk. ‘Right. We can go there now and you can fill me in on the way. I’m in court at two so we’ve not much time.’

Dolly stood up. She liked George, he got straight to the point. He held the door open, beckoning her to follow him.

They drove to the police station in Fuller’s immaculate green Jaguar and Dolly told him exactly what had occurred since she was released from Holloway. She also asked if he would take on Kathleen O’Reilly’s case as a favour to her. He inclined his head a little, and then gave that icy smile. ‘If she can meet the fees, then yes.’

‘She can’t but I will.’

Ester and Julia had already left to begin their assignments. Julia was calling at Norma’s cottage and Ester went to talk to Raymond Dewey. Connie was already at the station, watching the man in the signal box. He had a pot belly and she felt he would have heavy BO. She shuddered but then, crossing to the signal box, she saw the pleasant-faced young man who had given her a lift the day she arrived. She saw him walk up the steps, as the pot-bellied man banged out.

‘You’re late again, Jim.’

‘Sorry, Mac, got held up.’

‘Oh yeah? Who was it last night, then?’

Jim guffawed as he entered the signal box. Connie waited a moment and then ran out, colliding with the fat man. She was right. He was a walking BO advert. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she gasped as she fell forward and then yelped. ‘My ankle, oh...’

It didn’t take long for Jim to come down the steps with a glass of water as Connie sat at the bottom. She sipped the water and then tried to stand but had to sit down again.

‘I’m sorry, love, I just didn’t see you. Do you need a doctor?’ Pot-bellied Mac looked down into her face, concerned.

‘I’m all right, just a bit dizzy.’

Jim helped her up and looked at his mate. ‘You go off, Mac, I’ll take care of her. Maybe she should just sit here for a while.’

Mac muttered that he just bet his mate would take care of her, and trundled off towards his beat-up Ford Granada. ‘See you tomorrow, Jim.’

But Jim wasn’t listening. He was supporting Connie, his arm around her.

‘Lucky sod,’ mused Mac, as he drove out. He wouldn’t have minded taking care of her — she was a cracker.

DCI Craigh stared at the estimates then at George Fuller and at the impassive face of Dolly Rawlins. He didn’t really look at them properly — he was too edgy. Fuller had detailed the police warrant issues, times and dates, and that on her release Rawlins had, in his estimation, been harassed. If it was to be made public, not only the waste of public money but that a woman who had served her sentence and been released with every good intention of building a home for ex-prisoners, had been picked on, there would be trouble. Craigh tried to interrupt but Fuller stopped him, not letting him get a word in.

We obviously know that a Mrs Kathleen O’Reilly was arrested at Mrs Rawlins’s establishment but she was unaware of any of the outstanding charges levelled at Mrs O’Reilly and all the women resident at the manor are, as you must be aware, ex-prisoners. But as Mrs Rawlins was attempting to open a home to give these unfortunate women a chance to straighten out their lives, then it is only to be expected that residents would be, like herself, ex-prisoners. To my mind there has been a flagrant misuse of policing and the harassment could be levelled at your department. If it were to be made public in one or other of the papers, I’m sure it would make for popular reading, if a touch unpopular for the Metropolitan Police?’

Fuller hardly drew breath. His steely, quiet, authoritative voice hammered home his points and lastly he dropped in his ace, not as a threat but as a fact. ‘Also, it is possible that one of the men in your team, Detective Chief Inspector, has a private vendetta against Mrs Rawlins, totally without proof. And this also brings up the added insult that you have accused Mrs Rawlins of being associated with a James Donaldson who, I understand, recently died while in your custody.’

Craigh felt the rug being pulled from under him but he remained calm. His hands clenched into fists on the desk, and he said nothing, but gazed ahead at a small dot on the wallpaper.

‘So if you would please give the estimates your due care and attention, I would be most grateful if Mrs Rawlins could receive payment for the damage to her property as soon as possible.’

Fuller rose, gestured to Dolly to accompany him to the door. She shook Craigh’s hand but did not smile as Fuller waited for her to leave in front of him.

‘Thank you for your time, Detective Chief Inspector.’ Fuller closed the door after him. Craigh ground his teeth; it had been tough keeping his mouth shut. He would have liked to punch the bastard. His eyes glanced down at the detailed list of damage done to the manor during the two raids. He turned over the pages that listed deep freezers being turned off, banisters and rails damaged, the front door, the rear door. Then his jaw dropped as he read the total figure.

Ten thousand quid? Ten grand?’

Dolly was rigid as she waited for Kathleen to be brought into the visiting section. Coming back inside made her feel ill, the hair on the nape of her neck standing up as she kept her eyes down, refusing to look in the direction of any of the prison officers. All she wanted to do was to say what she had to say to Kathleen and get out.

Kathleen was led through the door from the prisoners’ section. She was wearing a green overall, her own shoes, and an Alice band that someone must have given her to keep her thick red hair back from her wide white face. She looked tired, defeated and bloated.

Dolly reached over and held her big raw hand. ‘Hello, Kathleen love.’

‘Well, I’m back. I knew it’d happen one day but you know I just hoped we’d make some cash so I could get me and the kids to Ireland. It was just a dream, really. I should have known I’d be picked up one day. I’m just sorry it was at your place.’

‘So am I, but I’ve got you books and there’s money between the pages. Give a few quid out to some of the girls, ones that knew me. Rest you use for whatever. I got George Fuller taking on your case, I’ll find the money to pay him.’

‘I never said nothing, you know, Dolly.’

‘I didn’t think you would. Kathleen.’

‘I’m no snitch.’

‘It was Angela. We found out she’d been knocked up by that young copper.’

‘The bastard.’

‘She’s no better. We’ve chucked her out on her ear.’

Kathleen flicked through the pages of the paperback novel, looking at the neatly folded fifty-quid notes. She suddenly looked at Dolly; her eyes seemed dead. ‘I could have said something, though. I could have said about the diamonds, even the guns, but I didn’t.’

Dolly waited, knowing she was going to be hit. It just surprised her that Kathleen would try it on, even after she’d hired her a bloody lawyer.

‘I’ll get at least five this time,’ Kathleen said without expression. Dolly made no reply, waiting as Kathleen fingered the paperback. ‘I want my kids taken care of, Dolly. Sheena, Kate and Mary. They’re in a convent but they’ll be split up soon, I know it. Not many places can take three kids, three sisters, they’ll split them up, so...’

Dolly looked at her, hard. ‘So what, Kathleen?’

‘You take them, Dolly. I’ve written to the convent, made you their legal guardian. You just got to sign the papers. I want you to look after them until I get out.’

‘I can’t do that,’ hissed Dolly.

‘Yes, you can. You wanted kids in that place — well, now I’m giving you mine. You take them, Dolly, please. Please don’t make me talk to the coppers about you, take my kids.’ Kathleen bowed her head, as big tears slid down her flat cheeks. ‘I was a lousy mother but I’d turn grass for them. I would, Dolly. They’re all I’ve got that’s decent. Please, take them, keep them together for me.’

Dolly gripped Kathleen’s hand tight.

Just after Dolly had left the manor, Gloria marched up the stairs and banged on Angela’s bedroom door. ‘Oi, what you doin’ in there? We want you out. Come on. Angela?’ She tried the door. It was locked but the key was not on the outside.

‘Angela?’ She banged on the door, turned the handle and pressed it hard, but it was securely locked from the inside.

Gloria darted out to the stables and picked up a hammer. Connie appeared.

‘That Angela has locked herself in so I’m gonna break down the door and drag her out by the scruff of her neck.’

She went back upstairs and hit the door hard, then the door handle, and Connie pushed. It eventually gave way and they stumbled into the little box room. Angela was lying on the floor by the bed, face down. Beside her was a bottle of bleach. When the two panic-stricken women turned her over her face was blue, her mouth burned, but she was alive.

Julia was walking up the driveway and looked up to the top window as she heard Gloria scream at her out of the window to hurry. She jumped up the stairs three at a time and burst into the bedroom. Connie had Angela on the bed but stood helplessly to one side.

Gloria hovered. ‘She’s drunk bleach, Julia. I dunno how much but look at her mouth!’

Julia barked orders, to call an ambulance, get jugs of water, and drew Angela into a sitting position, feeling inside her mouth as Gloria and Connie hurried out, glad to be told what to do.

‘Angela, can you hear me? Angela? It’s Julia.’

The girl lolled forward. Julia tested her pulse, which was very weak, and began to pour water down her throat from a jug Connie had brought in.

Dolly was shown into the Governor’s office. She was freaking out: being in the visitors’ section was bad enough, but now, in the office, she hated it. All she wanted to do was leave.

Mrs Ellis had tea brought in. She was friendly and seemed to want to discuss Kathleen’s wish that Dolly become her children’s legal guardian.

Dolly sipped the tea, refusing to meet Mrs Ellis’s eyes, looking anywhere but into her face.

‘Do you have a job?’

‘Not easy at my age but I’ve got a few things I’m working on.’

‘I know about your application to the social services. Dolly, to run an institution requires training and people with qualifications.’

‘It was just a home, Mrs Ellis. This place is an institution. But it doesn’t matter now, I was rejected, they didn’t think me suitable, and if you don’t mind I don’t want to discuss it further.’

‘If you need any help in the future...’

‘I won’t, thank you.’

‘You know, Dolly, it isn’t wise to keep up some friendships you make inside. It is much better to make a clean break.’

Dolly slipped the cup and saucer back on to the desk. ‘Thank you, and thank you for the tea, but I’ve got to leave now.’

Mrs Ellis stood up, put out her hand to shake Dolly’s but she was already at the door.

‘Will we be seeing you again?’ she asked, still forcing herself to be pleasant.

‘No, I won’t come back. Goodbye.’

Mrs Ellis sat back in her chair. Dolly had looked well, almost affluent, stylish, but she was hard, a brittle quality to her every move, and she had not smiled once. An unpleasant woman, Mrs Ellis mused, but then her attention was drawn to other matters and Dolly Rawlins was forgotten.

The ambulance rushed Angela to hospital. Julia had gone with her but left when Angela was taken into the emergency section. Gloria had been upset but by the time Julia returned she was arguing with Connie, saying it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Angela’s and she wasn’t going to waste any pity on her. She could have got them all arrested.

‘She’s only eighteen,’ Julia snapped, irritated.

‘Yeah, so was I when I first went down but I still never grassed anyone. She’s got no morals, coming here, playing us for idiots.’

‘The way we all tried to play Dolly?’

‘No, we fucking didn’t,’ screeched Gloria.

‘Yes, we did,’ Connie said stubbornly.

‘Well, it’s all going to change soon, isn’t it?’ Julia said quietly.

‘What you mean?’

Julia sat down. ‘We think she’s planning a robbery.’

Gloria gaped. ‘I knew it — I fucking knew it. Soon as those shotguns was missing I said to Ester, I said to her, “She’s got something going down,” and I was right.’

Connie shifted her weight to the other foot. ‘I wish to God in some ways I’d never come here. I never done anything illegal in my entire life.’ Gloria snorted and she glared. ‘I haven’t. I’m not like you, Gloria. We all know what you are.’

‘Oh, yeah, what am I? You tell me that.’

Ester had come in, unnoticed, and answered, ‘A loud, brassy tart. So what’s all the aggro?’

‘Where’ve you been?’ Gloria asked.

Ester took off her coat and chucked it over a chair. ‘Talking to that half-wit Raymond Dewey. Dolly wants to know the times of the mail train.’

Gloria’s jaw dropped and she drew a chair close. ‘Is she gonna hit the security wagon, then? One that does the drop for the mail train?’

Julia crossed to the back door. ‘If she does, it’s madness. According to Norma they have the place sewn up. The local police come out in force, cut off the lanes. There’s no main access, we’d never get a vehicle near, never mind one that’d carry anything away.’ She pushed at the broken door and sighed. ‘This is crazy, you know, even discussing it.’

Ester looked at her. ‘No harm in it, though, is there? Unless you’d prefer to talk about Norma. Do you want to talk about Norma?’ Ester repeated the name with a posh, nasal twang. Julia pursed her lips. ‘Oh, have I hit a sore point? Don’t want to talk about Noooorma, do we?’

‘No, I don’t. And stop being childish.’

‘I’m not being childish. It’s you that’s got all uptight and your little mouth is all pinched up. All I’m doing is making conversation about Norma.’

Julia glared, then half smiled. ‘Jealous?’

‘Who me? Jealous? Of what? Norma? Oh, please, do me a favour. I couldn’t touch anyone with that arse anyway.’

Julia opened the door. ‘You don’t have to, but I do, and it’s quite tight, actually.’ Ester’s face twisted in fury. ‘She has a very good seat, as they say in riding circles.’

Julia was out of the door, shutting it behind her, before Ester could reply. She was pleased: Ester’s jealousy was proof that she cared.

Dolly drew up and parked outside Ashley Brent’s electrical shop. She squinted at the meter and shook her head with disgust: twenty pence for ten minutes — it was a disgrace! She walked to the boarded-up door of the shop, rang the bell and waited. Eventually a voice asked who it was.

‘Dolly Rawlins.’

There was a cackle of laughter and the sound of electronic bolts being drawn back before the door opened. Ashley Brent stood in the centre of his shop floor, arms wide, his glasses stuck on top of his bald head. ‘As I live and die. So you’re out then, gel. Give us a hug. You’re looking good, sweetheart. How long you been out, then?’

‘Oh, just a few months. Takes a bit of getting used to, especially those ruddy parking meters.’

‘Don’t tell me. I mean, in the old days you could find a broken one, use it for the day. Now they tow you away if it’s busted, tow you if you’re a minute over, tow you for any possible excuse. What they don’t do is tow the fuckers that block off the traffic. I’m telling you, everything nowadays is geared to get the punter, Doll. You’re screwed in this country if you got a leg it business, taxed, VAT... It’s like we got the Gestapo after us for ten quid rates due but then you hear of blokes coining it and they’re on social. Makes you sick.’

Ashley was a man who had verbal diarrhoea and it was always the same: he hated the Conservatives, hated the Liberals, the Labour Party, the blacks, the Jews. In fact, Ashley was a man who existed through his own venom and it was rumoured that when he went down for a short spell, his cell-mate had asked to be moved because Ashley even talked in his sleep. He offered tea, more verbals about the council estate across the road and, lastly, his kids. He went into a tirade about his thankless bastard kids and Dolly waited, looking around the equipment in the small, secure shop. Ashley was an electronic genius and ran a business loosely labelled as security devices and trade equipment. In fact, he sold bugs, receivers, transmitters, microphones. You name it, Ashley had it in his well-stocked shop and workroom. He ran a strictly cash deal for those wanting certain items and kept no record of them being purchased. Dolly spent three hours with him and left with a briefcase and a small carrier bag. He had filled and checked her parking meter as she sat and learned how to handle the equipment. It was mostly simple but a few items were more complicated. He was patient and gave good advice, yet never pressed for details as to exactly what the items would be used for. Whatever else Ashley was, he was totally trustworthy. You paid for that. Dolly gave him ten thousand pounds cash.

She was now very short of readies to pay the builder. Even with the money from Audrey and the guns, it was running out fast.

Susan Withey opened the door.

Dolly smiled sweedy. ‘Hello, I’m Mrs Rawlins.’

Susan hesitated. ‘Mike’s not here.’

‘Ah, pity. Well, could I come in? I want to talk to you.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘I do. It’s about Angela, your husband’s little girlfriend.’ Susan stepped back and Dolly pushed past her. ‘Oh, this is very nice. You do the decorating yourself, do you?’

Susan shut the door and followed Dolly into the sitting room.

It was after seven and they were all waiting for Dolly, not sure whether to start supper without her, wondering what she’d been doing all afternoon.

‘There’s a car coming up the drive now,’ Gloria said, ‘but it’s not Dolly. Looks like a flash Mercedes or some-thin’.’

Ester ran into the hall and looked through the broken stained glass in the front door. She tore back.

‘Get rid of them. They’ll want me. You tell them I don’t live here any more. Get rid of them, Gloria.’

‘Why me?’

‘Because you’re so good at it.’ Ester shot into the kitchen, pushing Julia back just as the doorbell rang.

Gloria opened the front door. ‘Yeah?’

‘Ester here?’

‘Ester who?’

‘Freeman.’

‘No. Sorry.’

Gloria tried to shut the door but it was kicked open. The man was swarthy, handsome-ish, with dark heavy-lidded eyes, a slightly hooked nose and thick oiled-back hair.

‘Eh, what you doing?’ Gloria shrieked.

‘I want to speak to Ester.’

‘She don’t live here, well, not any more. She sold this house.’

Gloria was lifted off her feet and hurled against the wall. She screamed but he gripped her face between his hands and pushed her head hard into the wall three times until she was too terrified to scream. She just stared wide-eyed.

‘You tell Ester we need to speak to her, understand?’

Gloria nodded as he slowlv released her and then as if to make sure the message was understood he swiped her with the back of his hand and she fell to the floor. She didn’t get up, not until the front door closed behind him. Then she slowly staggered to her feet as Ester peered out of the kitchen.

‘Well, thanks a fuckin’ bundle for that,’ said Gloria, touching her nose. ‘He whacked me into the wall, whacked me in the face and you friggin’ let him do it.’

‘Was it Hector?’ Ester asked as she peered out of the broken window.

‘I dunno who it was — he was too busy whacking me to give me his fuckin’ name. Look what he done to me face.’

Julia held Gloria’s face between her hands and pressed her nose. ‘It’s not broken.’

‘Oh, great, I should be grateful for that, should I?’

They all jumped as a car tooted and Ester shrank into a corner. ‘Shit, are they back?’

Connie went over to the door.

‘Don’t open it,’ Ester hissed.

‘It’s Dolly,’ Connie said. ‘She’s driven on round to the backyard.’

‘Don’t say anythin’ about this, Gloria,’ Ester pleaded.

‘Well, she might just notice me nose is red and bleedin’ and me blouse torn,’ Gloria retorted in fury.

‘Look, they want money. I’ve not got it so just cover for me — you know how she can get.’

Dolly called out, and they all turned towards the door. They couldn’t believe their eyes.

Kate and Mary were twins aged nine and Sheena was five. They all had bright curly red hair like their mother, round white faces with blue eyes, and were dressed in an odd assortment of charity clothes. They were sullen-faced as if they had been crying and they clung tightly to each other in fear.

‘These are Kathleen’s kids and they’re moving in.’ Dolly held up her hands. ‘Don’t anyone say anything. There was nothing I could do about it, they’re here, so let’s make the best of it. Can someone get a room ready or two? Do you want to sleep together?’

The three little girls nodded in unison and clung even tighter together. ‘Right, let’s get your coats off. Connie, bring their cases in from the car and someone put some supper on and get a room aired...’

Gloria turned away. ‘I’ll do it. I just fell down the stairs and hit me nose so I need to go and wash me face.’

Mike charged in. Susan was sitting on the sofa, clutching a handkerchief.

‘Has she left?’

‘Yes. I went into the hall to call you and when I went back she just said she had to leave.’

Mike marched up and down. ‘What did she want?’

Susan stood up and hit him. ‘She told me about you and that Angela. She’s pregnant, did you know that? That bloody tart you’ve been screwing is pregnant.’

Mike closed his eyes and sank down on to the sofa.

‘Well? What are you going to say? Don’t you have anything to say to me?’

‘What else did she want?’

‘Isn’t that bloody enough?’

Mike leaned back. At first it was just treacle he’d felt round his shoes, then ankles, then it felt like cement. Now it felt like someone had fitted him with a straitjacket. Susan waited but he didn’t say a word. She stormed out, slamming the door behind her, and he stayed there, eyes closed, head back, trying to assimilate everything, sort it out in his head. What did Dolly Rawlins want? He never even gave Angela a thought — he was too concerned with himself.

Beneath the coffee table, which was placed against the wall, was a 13-amp adaptor. A table-light plug was fixed into one but in the other socket was a plug, not connected to any electrical appliance. The switch was turned on. The plug was a neat transmitter, that Mike was even paying for. Not that he knew or even contemplated that anyone would be bugging him. But Dolly was. She had inserted the plug the moment Susan had left the room.

‘Neat, isn’t it?’ Dolly said, as she showed the women the second 13-amp adaptor she’d bought. She then showed them two pens that were also transmitters, pens you could even use to write with. They stared like a group of kids at the equipment: the small receivers, the black box and, lastly, the briefcase that would enable Dolly to open up three electronic channels and record anyone she had bugged.

‘What’s all this for?’ Ester asked.

‘What do you think?’ Dolly said, as she studied the leaflets.

‘You planning on bugging us?’

‘Don’t be stupid, Connie. These are to be put to good use.’

Dolly glanced up at the ceiling as she heard a soft cry. She said to Gloria, ‘I thought you told me they were asleep.’

‘They were last time I looked in but it’s a strange house, Dolly, and, well, they’re scared.’

Dolly hurried upstairs and crossed to the room set aside for the kids. She eased open the door and could see them lying huddled together. The twins were sleeping but little Sheena was mewing like a kitten. ‘What is it, darlin’?’

‘Dark,’ came the whimpered reply.

Dolly fetched her own bedside lamp, and covered it with a headscarf. ‘There, how’s that, then?’ Sheena’s eyes were wide with fright. ‘Would you like me to read you a story?’

The little girl nodded and Dolly opened one of the cheap plastic suitcases and took out some dog-eared books.

‘Which one is your favourite?’

‘Three Little Piggies,’ Sheena whispered.

‘Okay, Three Little Piggies it is. Oh, you’re all awake now, are you? Well, cuddle up and I’ll read you a story.’

Dolly read until one by one they fell asleep. She went on until she’d finished the book and whispered, ‘No one will blow my house down, no big bad wolf. This is my house.’

Downstairs, Gloria picked up a transmitter. ‘She’s obviously serious about it. This gear must have set her back a few quid.’

They heard Dolly coming down and started to make conversation.

‘What time did Angela leave?’ Dolly asked as she walked in.

‘She went out in style,’ Gloria said, then repeated what had happened, only a little shame-faced that she hadn’t told Dolly immediately.

‘She tried to top herself,’ Ester said, but then Julia interjected that she had called the hospital and she was off the danger list. They were unsure, however, if the baby would be all right.

Dolly sighed. No matter what she felt about Angela she was sad. Dolly yawned. ‘You go and see her tomorrow, Julia, take her a few things. Just check on her.’

‘She’d not get me whippin’ in grapes, she deserves all she gets, the nasty little snitch,’ Gloria said.

Dolly yawned again.

‘So, you gonna tell us, Dolly, what all this gear is for?’ Ester sat next to her.

‘Yes, but not tonight, I’m too tired. We’ll discuss it in the morning.’

‘Is it the security wagon?’ Ester asked.

‘Nope. Like I said, we’ll talk about it tomorrow, I’m run ragged now.’

‘It’s the train, isn’t it?’ Connie said.

Dolly slowly got up. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘The mail train?’ Ester asked, springing to her feet.

‘That’s right.’

Julia was resting one foot on the fireguard. ‘You’ll never do it, Dolly. I spoke to Norma. She said the security for the drops is really tight and there’s no access by road. You’d never get a truck or a car up there without the cops knowing. That’s why they chose this station, for its inaccessibility.’

‘We wouldn’t be doing it by car.’ Dolly was on her way to the door.

‘On foot? How the hell could we carry big fat mail-bags?’

Dolly cocked her head to one side. ‘We wouldn’t carry them and we wouldn’t be going by car, or on foot.’

Ester smirked. ‘Helicopter, is it?’

Dolly opened the door. ‘We hit the train on horseback.’ They fell about laughing. Gloria snorted like a braying donkey. Then they saw that Dolly wasn’t smiling. She looked from one to the other, her voice quiet, calm, without any emotion. ‘Julia gave me the idea, so as from tomorrow we start to learn to ride. Every one of us. If we can’t do it, then we look for something else. There’s a local stable within half a mile of here. They’ve got eight horses. We’re all booked for the early-morning ride so I don’t know about you lot but I need to get some sleep. Goodnight.’

She shut the door behind them and not one of them could speak.

‘I’ve never been on a horse,’ Connie said lamely.

‘Me neither — well, nearest I got was a donkey ride on Brighton beach,’ Gloria said.

‘It’s bullshit, isn’t it, Julia?’ Ester said flatly. ‘She’s joking.’

Julia prodded the fire with the poker. ‘I don’t think she’s joking. One, she’s laid out for all that equipment, two, she was up by the woods, checking out the station. I think she’s serious. That’s why she’s made Connie, me, even you, Ester, start checking it out.’

Overhead, the chandelier creaked as Dolly walked along the floor above them. Her footsteps sounded ominous and the long shadows cast from the fire were scary as they loomed large across the big dilapidated room. One after another they opened their mouths as if to say something but nothing came out. They were all thinking the same things. Was Dolly serious? Was the robbery for real? But it was Julia who broke the atmosphere, laughing softly. ‘She’s pulling our legs. Let’s have a drink.’