She’s Out

Chapter 19

The day blurred as they went about their business. A taped call from the signal box had verified that the train would be arriving at midnight. It was referred to only as the ‘special’ as Jim checked the alarm and police-station lines.

Angela left with the children and arrived at Mike’s home at three o’clock, unaware of what was to take place that evening. Mike opened the door, handed her the keys, and said he had to leave but would be back that evening. He didn’t touch her and was distant, even when she tried to reach for his hand. ‘No, just settle the kids in, I’ll be back later.’

She closed the front door, and went straight to the wall socket receiver as Dolly had instructed her. The girls were playing with Mike’s sons’ toys and Angela had a good nose around before she started to cook spaghetti for them. They had been scared of moving to yet another home but they all called Dolly and said hello to her and were told they would see her the following day. That reassured them and they went back to playing.

In a hired car, Mike headed for the manor. He had plenty of time so he drove carefully, making sure never to exceed the speed limit. The last thing he wanted was anyone to remember him so he didn’t stop at any petrol station, and just continued slowly, his gut churning, concentrating on the neat list of instructions which gradually calmed him.

The women checked and rechecked their lists in their minds: Julia the cladding and the bags, and the big machine for clearing up leaves. She tested the engine, the suction hose and the long trail of flex ending at the socket in the stables. The machine would be used to hoover up the money and they had already tested it to be certain that the suction was strong enough for their needs. Julia then went on to check the lime pit. It was ready for the mail-bags to be hurled into; the lime would eat away at the thick canvas, which again had been tried and tested. It was also deep enough to accommodate the number of bags they would be bringing from the train. The corrugated iron slats were standing by in position, the builder’s skip was in place and already attached to the truck so it could be towed across the pit opening. She was less tense than she had been the night before but she had a half-bottle of whisky with her. Connie did her jobs. Gloria and Ester headed for the bridge, with a dog’s lead, looking like innocent walkers, calling out for the fictional lost dog. They returned to the house, mission completed. Each reported to Dolly and she ticked and crossed out the jobs as they were done. Gloria collected the shotguns and cleaned and polished them.

Gloves, hats and boots were laid out in the kitchen. Norma’s police cape and hat were in readiness for Julia. The hours ticked by slowly, every minute seeming to take half an hour, and Connie believed the hands of the clock were not moving, she’d looked at them so many times.

Dusk came, and Dolly asked if anyone felt hungry. Nobody did. They were still quietly going about their tasks, checking and double-checking everything.

‘Keys are in the same place at the stable,’ Connie said, sitting down. She kept coughing as if she had a tickle in her throat and her hands felt icy cold with nerves.

Mike parked the car and, wearing a black polo-necked sweater, black ski pants and sneakers, a black woollen hat, eased the old rowing boat silently into the water. He had a fishing rod and a bag with him, nothing else. He rowed across the lake to the opposite side. He saw no one, heard not a sound. The lake was black, the bridge in darkness, lit only by the flash of the signals as a train passed across and on into the distance. He tied up the boat alongside the small wooden jetty and crossed to the anchored speedboat. He pulled back the canopy and climbed inside, checking the ignition and wiring. That accomplished, he went into the woods and searched for the lights. His gloves were sodden but he didn’t remove them. He had to pull away the bracken and twigs hiding the gear and he carried each item to the end of the jetty, where he set up the high-powered spotlight. The silence was unnerving, nothing moved and the lake remained still and dark. He could not risk testing the spotlight, just hoped to God it would work. If it didn’t, there was nothing he could do about it.

By nine thirty, the women were anxiously waiting for the time to pass. They didn’t speak but the atmosphere was very tense. Connie continued to clear her throat until Gloria said she should have a drink of water as it was getting on her nerves.

‘I’m sorry.’

That’s all right, love. Just a sip, mind — remember what I said about you drinking.’ Dolly was reading a magazine.

‘I hope we can trust him,’ Ester said for the umpteenth time. Dolly ignored her but she wasn’t really seeing any of the magazine pages of knit-yourself-a-bolero or the new-fashioned beachwear. She knew Mike had a hell of a lot to lose: two kids, a wife and a future, to put it plainly, but she didn’t bother saying anything to Ester. She’d said it before and knew it was just Ester’s nerves talking.

Gloria crossed and uncrossed her legs, just as she had for the last half-hour. They were at breaking point.

‘Time to get dressed,’ Julia said, and walked out. Connie sprang up and Dolly tossed aside the magazine.

‘We’ve got awhile yet, Connie, just relax.’

Julia pulled on her boots, a thick sweater over her shirt and began to do up the big rain cape. Like an omen, there was a sudden roll of thunder.

‘Oh, shit,’ Ester said, running to the window. ‘It’s gonna rain.’

‘Never mind the rain,’ Dolly said calmly. ‘If it’s raining the cops won’t hang around.’

‘If there’s a storm the horses will freak,’ Julia said as she picked up Norma’s police hat. ‘If the thunder makes them edgy, pull the reins in tight,’ she said, putting on the hat, and walking to the kitchen door.

‘Where are you going?’ Ester said sharply.

‘Just to take a leak,’ Julia said, slipping out.

‘You’ve already been,’ Ester said, following.

‘Let her go,’ Dolly said quietly, and Ester turned back, drew Dolly aside.

She whispered, ‘She’ll be snorting coke.’

‘I know, but if she needs it to straighten out, then let her do it.’ Dolly ignored the other women’s gasps, and looked out of the window. ‘It’s coming down hard, the ground will be slippery.’

‘Oh. Christ,’ Connie said, panting with nerves.

Dolly opened a bottle of Scotch and got down some mugs. ‘For those that need a bit of bottle.’

Upstairs Julia knocked back half a tumbler of vodka and then snorted two thick lines of coke, the last of it, but, then, this might be her last night. She stared at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. She looked huge in the big cape and boots, and she put on the hat, pulling it down low over her face, tucking in her hair. She had a black scarf round her neck, and she tested that it was loose round the front, ready to ease over her face. She looked at her reflection for a long time and then smiled. She was confident, and as she held out her hand in front of her, it was steady — even if her head wasn’t.

Julia got back as the women began pulling on their boots. No one spoke. She passed through the kitchen and a roll of thunder heralded her opening the back door, which still caught a bit from the damage of the police raid, and she yanked it hard. They could see the rain coming down in a sheet outside.

‘Well, take care. Hold the reins in tight, make them know who’s boss, especially over the jumps.’

They nodded, and Ester went over and reached up to kiss her face. ‘Take care, Julia, for chrissakes. Take care on that live rail.’

Julia smiled. ‘It’s Helen that’s got to take care. I don’t want her thrown up into a tree like that dog Connie told us about.’

Connie moaned softly. She was chalk-white but at least she’d stopped coughing. One good belt of Scotch had stopped that.

‘See you later.’ Julia went into the stable to saddle up Helen. She was the only one not to have her hooves clad as Julia would not use any road. She was to head to the far side of the bridge over fields and cross far along the line from their level crossing to ride back to the bridge. They all had their coats on when they heard Julia moving out. The clock registered ten thirty.

Mike blew into his gloves. His hands were freezing and he was sodden from the downpour. A bolt of lightning had lit up the bridge and lake for a second and he just hoped to God it had not lit him. There was still no sign of a living soul.

The convoy was halfway to its destination. The heavy rain did not slow it down and the armoured security wagon was cushioned between two police cars as it continued towards the station.

Colin was at the wheel, maintaining radio contact between all three vehicles. The empty mail-train left Marylebone station. At first they were told to stand by and wait as the engine was still playing up, even after a complete service, but the problem ceased as soon as they gained speed. The carriage to be used for the collection of the mail-bags was at the centre of the four-carriaged train. It looked like an ordinary passenger train except for the blacked-out windows. The three guards sat inside playing cards, a good hour to go before they picked up the money bags. They were relaxed and casual.

‘I’ll be glad when tonight’s over. I hope to God they don’t make this a regular thing, I hate getting home this late. Anyone know the next route they’re gonna take?’

‘No one does.’

‘Bloody train’s clapped out. You’d think carrying this much dough they’d have some kind of high-powered armour-plated one, wouldn’t you?’

The rain splattered on to the carriage windows. ‘Your deal, mate, and let’s hope this doesn’t get into a fuckin’ storm, we’ll be soaked.’

‘I won’t. I’m not moving out. Let the security blokes carry the gear in. Right, ace’s wild, this one’s dealer’s choice.’

His two friends groaned as the train continued down the tracks, unimpeded by any other. There was an ominous distant roll of thunder.

Julia moved slowly across the field. She was worried they would all have trouble as the ground was slippery, the mud forming in some of the ditches between the fields. She opened two gates in readiness. They stuck in old tractor ruts and she had to dismount to secure the gate back, lifting it slightly over the squelching mud. She checked the time; she’d have to get a move on, the gates had already delayed her by three or four minutes. Julia pushed the horse on in the dark night. She was just a shadow, no lights, no streetlights. She began a steady canter in a wide circle. She had a long ride ahead to get back to the far end of the bridge, right round the far side of the lake and then up a dangerous high bank to take Helen on to a narrow ledge before moving down on to the line itself. It didn’t worry her — she’d been doing it for weeks — but she felt uneasy about the heavy rain. The steep bank was slippery and Helen could stumble or, worse, she might inadvertently hit the dangerous high-voltage cable, but she didn’t slow her pace, just kept going.

The women parked the Mini in a narrow field gateway. They kept to the grass verge as they headed towards the stables, passing two small cottages. Lights were on in both and they moved silently in single file: Dolly, Gloria, Ester and, coming up at the rear, Connie.

They saw no one, and there was only one street-light to worry them, almost directly outside the cottages. They carried the cladding and saddle-bags between them, only Gloria, Ester and Dolly with the shotguns. They found the stable key and unlocked the main doors. By torchlight they began to clad the horses’ hooves in the thick sacking bags. It was eleven fifteen; they had three quarters of an hour before the train was due.

When the horses were ready, they rode out one by one, each with their orders and position, the rain still pelting down. The sacking would give more grip in the mud.

Dolly was first out. She walked her horse down the lane, then made for the woods. It was inky black and not a light could be seen until she broke from the cover of the trees and headed towards the railway line below. She had to cross a small bridge about half a mile from the signal box. She winced as the horse’s hooves thudded on the wooden-planked bridge. She held the reins tightly, keeping to the narrow grass verge, and started to make her way along the side of the tracks. She slipped off the horse and tied him up firmly. She had seen no one, and in fact she began to be glad of the rain as it was really pelting down. Dolly squeezed under the protective wired fence, already cut in readiness, and moved inch by inch towards the station car park. Above was the signal box, lit up, with Jim inside. Dolly crept beneath it, taking out the wire-clippers and the razor-sharp hatchet. Now she would have to wait and hope to God nobody walked by the slip road and saw her horse tethered. But as they had done it eight or nine times and no one had ever passed even close to it, she hoped they would not tonight. Half an hour seemed like a long time.

Connie and Gloria, using a different route, rode, like Julia, to the far side of the bridge. Unlike Julia, they did not have the long ride to get on to the tracks. The horses slithered a little in the mud but, on the whole, were steady as they galloped towards the far side of the lake. They had one riderless horse, Ester’s, as she had already gone to her designated position, on the far side of the bridge. Once there, with the shotgun ready and loaded, she was to wait for the train. It would not be stopped in front of her; they were going to blow it half-way across the bridge, further down the track, the old railway sign the only protection for Ester if too much Semtex was used. She prayed that Gloria now knew the right amount.

Dolly could hear the distant rumble of the train. It was still so far down the tracks she couldn’t see it but she tensed up in anticipation, hoping that the others were in their positions and ready.

Connie and Gloria tied up the three horses firmly. They were a bit frisky and didn’t like the continuous heavy downpour. Connie followed Gloria as they passed the jetty and Mike appeared. He did no more than look towards them, signal, and start to move to the end of the jetty. He then crouched low, waiting. There were still about twenty minutes before the train was due at the station.

Gloria and Connie moved to the end of the bridge, along the railway line in the opposite direction from Ester. Gloria motioned to Connie to remain behind as she bent low and, keeping pressed to the small parapet at the edge of the rail, she checked that the wires and the plastic-covered packages were all intact. She worked quickly and only hesitated once as she double-checked the live and the earthed wire. She had gone over it so many times she now closed her eyes tight and swore. ‘Please, dear God, have I got it right? Red into the right socket, blue into the left and the earth between them?’ She pictured the neat drawings Mike had made that Dolly had told her to burn, wishing she still had them.

‘You can do it blindfolded. Come on, gel, don’t blow your bottle now.’

Gloria inched her way back towards Connie, who was holding her shotgun. She whispered, ‘Can you see him? Is he in position?’

Connie screwed up her eyes to peer over the bridge and looked twenty-five feet down. It was pitch black. ‘I can see something at the end of the jetty.’

Gloria nodded. They were under strict instructions not to speak, not to say one word throughout the robbery. She could just make out the outline of the tethered horses by the trees.

Julia had a tough time riding Helen down the steep bank. The horse didn’t like it one bit and kicked out with her back hooves as Julia held on like grim death. She gritted her teeth as they slid further towards the track. Helen tossed and jerked her head but they were on the narrow edge before the line itself so Julia eased Helen forward, one hoof at a time, on to the centre plank. Either side were the live cables but there was an eight-inch-high border and she began to move Helen slowly down the precarious narrow plank. She was as dainty as a ballerina, encouraged and patted, as they got closer and closer to the spot Julia had rehearsed for stopping the train. Now came the really dangerous move: she had to turn Helen to stand sideways on, blocking the entire rail. A roll of thunder made her freeze as Helen tossed her head. Not liking the narrow ledge, the horse lifted one foreleg and almost came down on the cable but Julia shouted sharply. ‘Still’, a police command, and the wonderful old horse froze her position. Julia waited for her to settle before turning her and moving slowly sideways.

Mike brought the boat further round. He had the spotlight switch in his hand. He could see none of the women, but knew they must be in position because the horses were tethered.

The lead police patrol car pulled into the station forecourt, and an attendant switched on the exterior lights. The platform was lit up in readiness as the train approached, the level-crossing gates clanging shut. The rear police patrol car remained just behind the security van as the guards waited for the go-ahead to begin moving the money bags on to the train. The rain was bucketing down. Two officers had not got their raincoats with them so they took shelter under the platform awning.

Jim, his hut lit up, watched the train hiss to a halt. He gave the thumbs-up to the driver who waved from the train cabin. He did not get out, simply waited in his cabin for the signal to move on.

The guards opened the central carriage, carrying clipboards and documents. Two guards from the security wagon approached and checked their documents with the other guards and as the police formed a protective line either side of them, they opened the wagon and began to carry the bags aboard the train. They moved fast, expertly, calling the identity number as each bag went aboard. It took no more than ten minutes for the train to be loaded. As the carriage gates closed, the security guards returned to their empty wagon and the police didn’t hang about either. They waited only for the signal from the signal box, and the engine hissed and began to move down the tracks, across the closed level crossing and on to the bridge.

Dolly saw the security wagon move back the way it had come and then the two patrol cars draw away from the station. She was willing them to move off, out of sight, one hand on the electric power switch for the signal box, the other clenched around the hatchet for the alarm wires. She knew exactly which ones they were because this moment, like the entire raid, had been rehearsed. The mains box opened and closed four times. Even so, when that power went out in the box, the moment of panic for Jim was only going to last a second or two before he hit that separate linked alarm switch. If that went off, the two cop cars could turn back within minutes and they’d have major problems. She had to pull the main switch and slash the wires within seconds of each other.

The train passed, one carriage, second carriage, mail carriage, last carriage, and she said to herself, ‘Now, now, now.’

The lights switched from red to off, perfect. The signal box went completely dark. Jim didn’t panic, went towards the emergency generator but, as he was about to switch it on, he heard something from beneath him. He could not ascertain what it was, his eyes still unaccustomed to the dark.

Dolly slashed down the hatchet. The wires strained and two or three remained intact. She slashed again and then pocketed the hatchet before clipping at the cables. One sprang away, then the second. She had four more to go as Jim began to panic. His delay in getting worried gave Dolly the valuable time she needed to put the live wires against the generator sides. If Jim tried to switch on up in the box he’d get quite a shock — not enough to kill him but enough to stop him trying it again in a hurry.

Dolly ran under the fence, and was almost at her horse when she froze. Jim was hurtling down the signal box steps, having almost been thrown across the signal box when he tried the emergency generator. He leaped down the steps, still semi-shocked, and fell to the ground. He moaned, clutching his ankle, rolling in the grit of the signal-box forecourt. He couldn’t hear Dolly, let alone see her, as she mounted and headed towards the bridge, the train moving slowly up ahead. But her horse was nowhere near as well trained as Julia’s so it was a much slower ride. He was nervous and skittish and no matter how much she pressed him forward, he refused to go at speed.

The guards aboard the mail carriage had no idea anything was wrong at the station. They were moving and would soon pick up speed as usual, the bridge crossing always being slow. The windows of the carriage were all blacked-out; they saw nothing, heard nothing.

The train driver didn’t look back. He was used to the bridge crossing and could do it blindfolded. In fact, he looked over to the lake a moment before the flashlight swung from side to side twenty yards up ahead of him. He put his hand up to shield his eyes from the bright light as it swung, indicating for him to stop. He began to brake in plenty of time, moving almost at a snail’s pace as he leaned out of his cab. All he could see was a police officer standing sideways across the track.

‘You fucking crazy?’ he screamed. Now he rammed on the brakes but they were still travelling so slowly, it didn’t jolt or jar the rear carriages. The train just slowly trickled to a halt. He presumed something had fallen across the tracks, waiting as the interphone rang from the centre carriage. He picked it up. ‘There’s a problem on the line, let me get back to you.’

He still held the phone as Julia began to move closer, very slowly. He leaned even further out. ‘You’re taking one hell of a bloody risk — there are live cables under you.’

Still she waited. Then she switched on the flashlight again, shining it at the driver’s face, as she eased the horse on to the narrow verge, moving away from the rail tracks, backing Helen dangerously along the stone-flagged parapet. Again he yelled at her, asked what was going on, but she was edging further and further away from the train and to safety. If it started and tried to pass her, there wouldn’t be room for the horse — it would swipe her belly.

‘What the hell is going on?’ the driver yelled again. The guards were now lifting up the blinds on the covered windows. The train had been stationary for one and a half minutes.

Julia was within six feet of safety when she turned the flashlight on once, twice, three times and Gloria pressed down the detonator. They were just a fraction off but the explosion ripped through the second carriage instead of directly between it and the mail carriage. She swore as the carriages rocked and shuddered and the railway line buckled under the impact. Next she crawled to the second device and thumped it down. This time it was almost right on its marker as the rear carriage broke loose. The explosion was terrifyingly loud, echoing across the water, glass and metal splintering. There was hardly a window left intact. The guards sprawled across the floor lying face down. They didn’t know what was going on.

Gloria had used too much Semtex and there was a dangerous gap in the bridge itself. The tracks beneath the carriage had buckled towards the gap but in the frantic next stage they didn’t realize the imminent danger as there was so much going on. Some of it was rehearsed or surmised by Dolly, and Julia didn’t waste time being impressed, but it was Dolly’s calm voice she could hear in her mind, ‘Soon as you move from the track, you chuck this into the main front carriage, as close to the driver as possible. It’ll work on a long radius and scramble any calls he tries to make from the train to the next station. It won’t give us long but it’ll be long enough.’ It was another of Ashley Brent’s toys.

Julia was clear and galloping to her next position. She now collected Dolly’s horse and began to drag it towards the others down below by the lake. Dolly was on foot and running towards the centre of the bridge.

Ester rammed her shotgun through the broken window. The men inside still lay sprawled on the floor in terror as two more shotguns appeared through the broken windows from the other side. Dolly was the only one to give the order and she screamed it. ‘Open the doors. Come out.’

Mike switched on the powerful beam of the positioned spotlight, twisting it a fraction to aim directly at the centre carriage. He had seen the train moving off and knew or hoped the driver’s phone would be scrambled. Then he jumped into the speedboat and with the rowing boat trailing behind, headed at top speed for the bridge. He cut the engines as he came directly in line with the spotlight. It covered the doors of the train and the path down to the rowing boat.

The dazed and terrified guards came out one by one. Dolly took up her position, screaming instructions as she pointed the shotgun towards them. ‘Lie down, face down.’

Suddenly she saw, to her horror, that the mail carriage was slowly moving to the gap in the bridge. It was going to go over the side as it creaked and groaned towards the gap.

The guards lay down beside the track, as, unaware of the danger, Connie and Gloria went aboard. Ester came round to the open doors. The sacks were passed out and dropped into the rowing boat, easily seen by the spotlight. Inch by inch, the carriage kept moving closer to the hole as they worked frantically. Below, Mike stacked the bags, gesturing to the women without saying a word. They all knew the danger but Dolly stood over the men, who didn’t move as they lay face down listening to the bags crashing down and the awful sound of the carriage as it ground towards the gap.

The guards were helpless to do anything and, if they moved so much as a muscle, they felt a hard dig in the centre of their back. The women all wore ski masks, not one showing her face as they worked on, lifting, passing, dropping the mail-bags, the danger obvious, the carriage still on the move.

Jim had limped to the nearest house and called the police. He was incoherent but kept repeating police and train and bombs. It was confused but the police were moving out and heading towards the railway station. They would be there in four minutes.

Ester was first to leave. She ran down to the horses and loosened the reins of hers, dragging him towards the water. Julia was already waiting, looking with desperation towards the bridge. Then the spotlight cut out, the batteries overloaded, leaving the bridge in darkness. ‘Jesus, God, they’re gonna go down with the bloody carriage. It’ll hit the rowing boat.’ She wanted to scream out to them to get off the bridge but still the bags came over until the boat sat low in the water.

‘Get out, move it,’ muttered Ester.

Gloria was next to leave, and the carriage suddenly shot forward by three feet, so that it hung like a seesaw over the bridge. Mike started the speedboat. He didn’t care if they lost one or two bags — he wasn’t going to risk being under the bridge any longer. He opened the throttle and headed back to the jetty. Next stage was hurling the bags out of the boat and into the saddle-bags on the waiting horses. Mike began helping Ester and Julia. They turned as they saw masses of bricks and twisted metal crash from the bridge. Connie, still inside the carriage, whipped round to see Dolly waving for her to get out, but she froze as the creaking grew louder and louder.

Dolly looked at the men, and back to Connie. She reached out and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her forward.

‘Jump.’

Connie pulled back, stiff with fear, but Dolly repeated, the delay taking vital minutes. They would never make the run back to the horses and she pushed at Connie again. ‘Jump!’

Dolly pulled Connie to the edge of the crumbling bridge, and half-holding, half-dragging her, they jumped the twenty-five feet to the water below. The shotgun flew from Dolly’s hand as she hit the water.

Connie surfaced first, gasping and flailing in the water with her hands. ‘I can’t swim.’

Mike had hurled out the last bag. He had stacked two in the speed-boat and jumped aboard, heading across the lake towards the other side, unaware that both Dolly and Connie were in trouble in the water. Connie was bringing Dolly down time and time again as she clawed and scratched at her in a desperate panic to stay afloat.

Julia lifted her filled bags off Helen and climbed back into the saddle. ‘Just keep moving as planned — Ester, go on! We’ll catch you up.’ She kicked the horse’s ribs and set off into the lake, Helen not batting an eyelid as they waded deeper and deeper. Connie and Dolly remained dangerously close to the water underneath the rocking carriage. Bricks and concrete slabs began to plummet into the water.

Julia waded deeper, and Connie clung to Dolly, who tried her best to keep the frightened woman afloat. They had no time to clutch at Julia’s hands so they just grabbed Helen’s tail as Julia turned in the water and headed back to the shore. Gloria and Ester had gone, leaving the tethered horses standing loaded with mail-bags.

As they reached the shore, Connie began to scream but Dolly slapped her face hard. ‘Get out of here! Get on your horse and get out! Move it!’

Connie, sobbing and soaked to the skin, stumbled to her horse. She could hardly mount but neither Julia nor Dolly paid her any attention as they heaved Julia’s bags on to Helen. They had a long way to go before they were finished.

Mike left the boat, ran to his car. He remained calm, refusing to allow himself to put his foot flat to the car floor. If he was caught now, speeding or otherwise, he had two mail-bags crammed with money in the boot. He took the route away from the station and as far from the manor as possible. He had every road listed and directions at the ready. Dolly Rawlins hadn’t left anything to chance. He hadn’t seen that she and Connie had almost drowned.

The police cars, four in all, were hampered by the closed level-crossing gates and lack of information, but by now the scream was on that the mail train had been hit and their radios blurted out instructions for blocks to be set up on all major roads within the area. They had no information as to what getaway cars were being used by the bandits. Their instructions were that all vehicles were to be stopped and searched.

No police car could get anywhere near the bridge. The guards were running down the sides of the track, their only exit from the bridge. The carriage remained balanced. Police vehicles began to attempt to make their way down to the lakeside. There was pandemonium on all sides and as they tried to question Jim he broke down. He didn’t know anything, he could tell them nothing, he had seen no one, no vehicles. He was still in a state of shock.

The three guards were in a similar state as, one by one, they were helped from the bridge. One man was bleeding badly from where the glass in the carriage window had slashed his cheek. An ambulance was called.

Mike made it on to the motorway. No roadblock was as yet set up but he didn’t look back, he just kept on driving. It was a long drive home and he wasn’t safe yet. He wouldn’t be until he boarded the plane. He didn’t give any thought to the women. He just drove and stayed within the speed limit.

The final stages were hampered by exhaustion but not one of them flagged. They pushed themselves on. They had galloped across the fields, up through the woods, keeping to cover as much as possible. They galloped down from the woods into the manor grounds, their bags thrown from their horses and left by the side of the lime pit, which was open and ready.

Julia leapt from Helen in her haste to start ripping open the mail-bags. She hurled the money into the skip and threw the bags into the lime pit. Connie rode up, hurled her bags to the ground and, still sodden from the lake, wheeled her horse round and galloped off, passing Dolly, the last to return, just as she headed down from the woods.

Julia grabbed Dolly’s bag, ripping it open. The money was stacked high in the open skip but she never stopped and, as the pit gurgled and hissed, she pressed the empty canvas mail bags down with a rake. Without pausing for breath, she dragged the corrugated iron across the pit. She hooked up the skip chains to the old truck standing by in position and began to drag it across the pit, over the corrugated iron. It left deep indentations in the wet ground — the rain had not stopped all night.

Meanwhile, the rest of the women restabled the horses, gathered up the cladding used on their hooves and took them to the stable yard tip. They threw them in and set fire to them but they were so wet they took a while to ignite. The horses’ tack was replaced in order. No one spoke — they could hardly draw breath from exhaustion and panic — but they were still going by their plans, even down to replacing the stable-keys in their hiding place. Then they went to the parked Mini, where Gloria was waiting patiently at the wheel. They almost had to haul Dolly inside she was so tired. But it was not over, not yet.

By the time they returned to the manor, Julia had still not finished. She was hoovering up the money from inside the skip, then emptying it into thick black rubbish bags, each one tied hard at the neck. Gloria ran from the Mini as the others moved into their jobs, lifting the bags, stashing them into the back of the car. They pushed and squashed them inside as bag after bag was tied and handed over.

Gloria and Connie began a slow studied walk, eyes to the ground to look for any single note that might have come loose. They didn’t need any torches now as the sun was coming up and it was light. The Mini stashed to the roof, Julia and Ester drove out. They knew they could be stopped at any second and neither spoke as they drove on, both their mouths bone dry with nerves. They still had not seen a single police car as they drove into Norma’s cottage pathway and round the back to the barn.

It was pitch dark, and Julia used a small map torch held in her mouth to force open the door of the old coal chute. It had been painted as the cottage was now centrally heated but the chute was wide enough to take a coal bag and long enough for the bags to be rammed against each other. The other end of the coal chute was blocked off, bricked over down in the cellar. All they had to do was stuff the bags down the hole and replace the covering. Julia had brought some blackened putty to replace any dislodged from the wall as the door had not been opened for years. It was painted black, with design and date picked out in white and red — a feature of the old cottage wall. Now it was more of a feature to them because it held all their money. They had to shove hard to get the door to shut when they’d finished.

Dolly had now joined Connie, who was on her hands and knees searching the ground. The shotguns had been ditched in the lake, the mail-bags were hopefully rotting, but still it was not over — not until Dolly was satisfied they were in the clear. One note and they’d be screwed. They found four or five but kept on searching as Gloria raked over the deep tracks left by the skip. She brought stones and branches and stamped them down to disguise any movement around the pit.

They did not stop until Julia and Ester returned. Then they parked the Mini and headed into the kitchen. Dolly set light to the black book in front of them and threw the ashes into the waste-disposal unit. All their equipment had already been dumped in the local tip but still they checked that there was no incriminating evidence around the house. It was almost seven o’clock before Dolly ordered them to change and get into their beds. They’ll be coming and they’ll be around for a long time. We just sit tight, stay calm, and keep on here as if nothing ever happened. This is the most difficult part. Any one of you can blow it so it’s up to you all now, and I dunno about you lot but I’m totally knackered.’

She walked slowly up the stairs and they saw her going to her room. No one congratulated anyone, Connie broke down crying and Gloria gave her a squeeze, telling her to hold it together. They then went their separate ways to bed.

Julia hugged her pillow tightly, the exhaustion still held at bay by adrenalin. She watched as Ester flopped back on the pillows. ‘Well, so far so good. We did it.’

Ester drew up the sheets around her chin and turned away. Julia leaned over her. Ester was crying and Julia kissed her shoulder, but didn’t say anything because she felt like weeping herself.

Connie cried herself to sleep.

Gloria lay wide awake, waiting for the knock on the door. She was still waiting when she fell into a deep sleep of exhaustion like the rest of them.

Dolly, in her room, couldn’t stop smiling. It felt so good — she felt so good. She couldn’t think of sleeping and she had one eye on the clock, waiting to hear if Mike had made it home without any trouble. In the end she felt her eyes drooping and couldn’t stay awake. She slept with her arms clutching her pillow like a lover.

Mike let himself into the house. He emptied the money bags, putting the cash into two big suitcases and covering them with clothes he’d already got prepared. He then sat in the dining room, watching the mail-bags burn. It took a long time and a whole packet of firelighters as the canvas was supposed to be fire resistant. He even poured some white spirit on top of them but it was a hard job for them to catch alight. Then he took the ashes outside and tipped them into the dustbin, went back in and emptied two rubbish bins full of junk Susan had chucked out while she had been packing. It was a while before he was satisfied the ashes could not be found.

Angela was fast asleep in his bed. He stood watching her from the doorway. She looked so young and innocent that he couldn’t resist kissing her just one last time. She woke with a start.

‘Will you call home and tell Dolly you and the kids are okay? Do it now, so she’s not worried about you.’

She yawned and sat up as he walked to the door. ‘I’ll get the girls dressed and start breakfast.’

Dolly could hardly raise her head. Her whole body felt stiff all over as if she’d been in a boxing match. She blinked as the phone cut through her brain and eventually reached out for it. It was Angela, just to say they were fine and would get the first train back.

‘Good.’ Dolly leaned back on her pillow. ‘Get a cab from the station, will you? And some fresh bread from that little corner shop.’ She hung up and looked at her bedside clock. Mike was home safe. He’d made it. She closed her eyes, wondering if they all would. Any moment she knew the scream would go up and she would bet any of the cash they’d got stashed away that the manor would be one of the first places they started at. ‘Well, let them come,’ she whispered to herself. We’re ready and waiting.’