Widows 2

Chapter Three

Dolly arrived at the car park on Hampstead Heath early, knowing the girls would not be there for at least another ten or fifteen minutes. It was seven in the morning, and she wanted to look over the area by herself. She parked her car dead center of the car park and sat. In front of her was the pond, and she turned round to look up to the hills and trees and the narrow pathways. Through the trees lining the car park she could see the row of elegant houses opposite. She sighed. Even at this hour of the morning the nearby roads were crammed with parked cars.

She got out of the Fiesta and slammed the door shut. In the middle of the car park were two large oak trees. You could either drive between the trees or to a small area to the left. Dolly walked across and looked down. A ditch ran around the car park, and a small wire fence. She began pacing carefully round the park, checking, double-checking, and all the time a voice inside her head kept saying, It won’t work, it can’t work — not here, it’s too open, it’s too vulnerable.

She heard a car pull up. Shirley was driving with Bella and Linda in the back. Bella got out, very businesslike, with a small notebook. Dolly glanced at her watch; she didn’t bother to mention that the girls were late.

Linda started wandering off toward the pond, and Bella barked at her like a bossy headmistress to ‘stop messing about!’ It was clear Bella had taken over things.

‘Right,’ she said, ‘everybody pay attention.’

They all stood in silence as Bella looked at her little notebook.

‘OK, this is the way it goes down.’ Bella went over the plans. Bella would be the coordinator and the lookout. She would position herself at the bottom of Pond Street by the cinema, close to a telephone booth. Shirley would park her car facing toward the car park, with a good view to the right and left. Linda would park her car midway between Shirley and Bella. When the girls were in position and saw that all was clear, and there was no sign of anyone else in the area...

At this point Dolly made a sweeping gesture, indicating the hundreds of residents’ cars.

‘Look, come on, Dolly, just let me get through it,’ Bella said sharply. ‘I know there’s gonna be a lot of parked cars, but not in the car park, all right? We’re gonna leave it till two, three o’clock in the morning, and it’ll be empty. There won’t be anybody round. And if it turns out there is, then we don’t go through with it!’

Dolly nodded her head. ‘OK, go on, I’m listening.’

‘Right. When everybody’s in position, we check out the area. If there’s anybody around, or anybody sitting in cars, we call it off. It’s crucial that the actual car park area is deserted, all right?’

All three nodded their heads in agreement.

‘OK, so this is how it goes down. Dolly...’

Dolly kept hearing Bella saying, ‘This is how it goes down, this is how it goes down...’ She wondered if they would be going down along with it.

When Bella, Shirley and Linda had checked the area and it was safe, they would wait. Dolly would have to pass Bella to be given the ‘OK’ signal to go ahead. She would then continue along Heath Street and park her car exactly across the exit gate of the car park. By this time, if all went to plan, Harry, having been given instructions to come alone, would have parked his car dead center of the car park with the interior lights on and his hands held up. This way they could see if he was alone and unarmed. When Dolly saw Harry and got the OK from the girls, she would get out of her car with the briefcase with £60,000 of stolen money from the raid. She would hand the briefcase over to Harry once she’d got his assurance that it would be the pay-off, and that he would leave the girls alone.

Dolly would then return to her car and be the first to leave the heath. She would be backed up by Shirley, who would drive off behind her. Linda would flash her lights to Bella, who would then put in a call to the police. The call would simply say that Harry Rawlins was alive, that he was at the location in a dark blue Jaguar with this registration number — information they already had from Vic Morgan — and he was believed to be carrying stolen money from the underpass raid.

Bella looked round at the watching faces. ‘Well? What d’ya think? It’s gotta work, Dolly. It’ll work, I know it.’

Dolly stared back. She didn’t think it would work at all. ‘How long d’you reckon the police will take to get here?’ she asked.

‘Well, we’re gonna test it out. I’ll put in a call from the phone booth and we’ll just see. The police station’s only just up the road, Dolly.’

Dolly sighed. ‘This area is so open, we’re so vulnerable — he could have any amount of people here.’

Bella looked exasperated. ‘Dolly, we’re gonna check out the area before you even drive up!’

Dolly went back to her car. Over her shoulder, she snapped, ‘You just make sure the police can be here in time to pick him up. I don’t want him to follow me, because if he does, I’ll lead him straight back to us and straight back to the rest of the money — and you know it.’

Bella marched after Dolly. ‘Look, I keep on telling you, it’ll work, Dolly, I know it!’

Dolly gave her an icy stare. ‘Fine. So they pick Harry up with the stolen money. What happens if he talks?’

‘What if he does?’ said Shirley. ‘There’s nothing to link us back to that raid!’

Dolly opened the driver’s door. ‘But they may start asking questions, Shirley. So I’d better get to that cash now, hadn’t I, ’cos we’re gonna have to move fast. You said it, Bella — we’ve got to cover ourselves three times over.’

Dolly slammed the door shut and the three girls watched in silence as she drove away.

Harry stared at his face in the mirror. He was unrecognizable, unshaven and wearing a filthy boiler suit, a workman’s cap and a scarf pulled round his neck. He turned to Tesco, who was sitting on the sofa, similarly dressed.

‘Less they see of our faces the better.’

Tesco picked up his cap and jammed it on his head. He grinned. ‘Sixty grand, eh? You think she’s gonna try something, Harry?’

Harry didn’t answer, just pointed to the gold watch on Tesco’s wrist.

‘Take that off.’

Swearing under his breath, Tesco took the watch off and slipped it into his pocket.

‘What d’you think she’s gonna do, Harry?’

Harry ignored him as he opened the plans of the nightclub. These were architectural blueprints, each area mapped out. Harry pointed at it.

‘We need to know how many work the kitchens, and what the access is like from the back of the club. That’s all we’re gonna do today.’ He walked to the door. ‘You got the crates set up?’

‘Yeah, and the truck’s standing by. We’ve got it for the whole morning. Come on, Harry — what do you think Dolly’s gonna do?’

Harry picked up a pair of gloves, said, ‘Don’t forget yours,’ and walked out.

As Tesco followed, he noticed that the phone had been left off the hook.

Audrey entered the kitchen through the back door. The place was a shambles. Greg was standing at the door eating a piece of toast, butter dribbling down his chin.

‘Don’t you ever clear up?’

Greg shrugged. ‘Gotta go to the JobCentre, then I got to sign on.’

Ray came into the kitchen and gave Greg a friendly clip round the earhole. ‘Don’t forget, you’ve got to be down at the garage by twelve o’clock.’ He grinned at Audrey. ‘I’ve hired Greg to clean motors for me.’

Audrey began to take her coat off. ‘Fine. But no more videos, right, Greg?’

Greg grinned. ‘Come on, you enjoyed them really, didn’t you, Mum?’

Audrey chucked a dirty dishcloth at him. Greg dodged it and darted out of the back door.

She was in no mood for jokes. She picked up the cloth and threw it into the sink, which was piled high with dirty dishes. She sighed, muttering under her breath. Ray came up behind her and slipped his arms round her.

‘You get out o’ the wrong side of the bed, did you, darlin’?’

Audrey pushed him away. ‘You’re gonna wish I had!’

Ray collected the rest of the dirty dishes from the table and took them to the sink. ‘I’ll wash up, Aud.’ He turned the tap on.

Audrey sat down, twisting her hands in her lap. Without looking at Ray, she said, ‘I bin to the doctor. I’m up the spout.’

Ray couldn’t hear her properly over the sound of the sink filling up. ‘What’s that? What you got?’

He looked at her over his shoulder and could tell from her miserable expression that it was something serious. He came and put his arm round her. ‘What’s up? Somethin’ serious, is it, darlin’?’

Audrey still couldn’t look at him. ‘You could say that. I’m pregnant, Ray.’ Audrey’s eyes filled with tears. She finally managed to look Ray in the eye. ‘Doctor reckons I’m about two months gone.’ She managed a teary smile. ‘So it wasn’t indigestion after all. I never thought... Well, I did, I thought it was the change, didn’t I? Gawd almighty, some change!’

Ray was rooted to the spot, staring, open-mouthed.

‘Well, say somethin’, like “I’m packin’ me bags!” or...’ Audrey fished in her pocket for a tissue and blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry, Ray.’

Ray got down on his knees. ‘Sorry, bollocks! From now on I’m takin’ care of the two of you. There’ll be no more market for you, my girl, eh?’ Ray was almost crying himself.

They held each other close, and the water spilled over the side of the sink and onto the floor.

Vic Morgan walked down the hospital corridor, tapped on the sister’s open door and popped his head in. She was standing at a filing cabinet, looking through the files.

‘Sorry to bother you, Sister, but I was wondering if there’s a George Resnick on the ward — Detective Inspector Resnick.’

She gave him a quick, appraising look, then nodded, before carrying two files over to her desk.

Morgan still stood at the door. ‘Er, I wonder if I could see him for a few minutes?’

She sat down, then opened a drawer in the desk and took out a biro. ‘Are you a relative?’ she asked without looking up from the files.

Morgan grinned. ‘Brother-in-law. I know it’s not visiting hours but I would appreciate it if I could just have a couple of minutes with him.’

He could tell from her expression that she knew he was lying. ‘I’m afraid Mr. Resnick is rather poorly.’

Morgan stepped into the room. ‘Is he going to have another operation?’

Sister shook her head. ‘No.’

‘Oh good — no need to cancel next Saturday’s football match, then!’

The sister showed no reaction to his joke.

Morgan moved a little closer to the desk. ‘Is he... er, having chemotherapy, then?’

She looked at him properly for the first time. ‘You know what a melanoma is? I would be grateful if you would stick to visiting hours in the future. You’ll see them on the board outside the ward. But since you’re here, I’ll let it go today. You can see Mr. Resnick for a few moments.’ A sad expression crossed her face. ‘He has so few visitors.’

Morgan walked out of the office and closed the door quietly behind him. It was as if somebody had slapped him in the face. Melanoma... Morgan pinched his nose and closed his eyes. Disconnected pictures, like a jigsaw puzzle, flashed across his eyes, and he saw his wife’s face, smiling at him, holding his hand — then the doctor telling them that she only had a little time to live. He couldn’t believe how little time. He remembered his wife clinging to his hand, knowing she was going to die, but what she was worried about was their son, Mark.

‘Take care of him, Vic,’ she’d said.

He tried to joke with her, told her that Mark could take care of himself, all they were worried about was her, they wanted to take care of her. And she smiled a sweet, gentle, dying smile, and said, ‘It’s too late, Vic. It’s too late.’

She died the following morning. He hadn’t been able to get to the hospital because of his work. They’d all been very kind down at the station, given him a couple of weeks’ leave, but it had happened so fast, so brutally fast. He didn’t take the leave they’d offered him but continued to work, and four weeks later his son Mark had died from an overdose. He took the two weeks’ leave then, and never returned.

Later, he’d opened his own investigation bureau. It seemed that he’d been alone for a long time now. Eight years. And one word had brought it all back in one flashing moment.

He breathed in, like an actor about to go on stage, put a smile on his face and pushed through the swing doors into the ward.

Micky Tesco drove the Warrington’s delivery truck slowly through the gates marked ‘In’ at Amanda’s nightclub and round the small car park at the front, with Harry in the passenger seat beside him. The ‘Out’ gates were on their right as they continued down a dip at the side of the club, and down a narrow alley that led into the large, open rear space of the club. There was building work going on, a couple of extensions in progress, as well as trees, garages and a fire escape. The only exit was the way they’d come in.

Harry swore under his breath. ‘This is a bitch, you know that.’

They parked the truck outside the kitchen exit and Harry hauled a beer crate out of the back of the truck, all the time carefully taking in the whole area. He looked at the fire escape, the trees, the row of garages. He saw a number of parked cars, presumably belonging to the kitchen staff.

Again, he turned to Tesco. ‘Christ almighty, a bitch and a half.’

Tesco began lugging a crate down. ‘Reckon we’ll need three or four blokes just to take the kitchens.’

Harry was already on his way to the kitchen entrance, down a flight of stairs in the basement of the building. As he got to the top of the steps, he paused.

‘You do the talking, and leave the rest to me.’

George Resnick looked much more like his old self than Morgan had anticipated. He was very pale and most of his hair was gone, but at least he was sitting up, and Morgan was grateful for that. As he walked along the row of beds, he passed what looked like several terminal cases. The smell of the ward kept bringing back painful memories and the effort of pushing them away made him hold the bag of grapes too tightly — he could feel the juice squeezing out between his fingers. As he reached Resnick’s bed, a wisp of smoke curled up.

‘I’ll have to ask you to put that out, Mr. Resnick.’

George Resnick was startled for a moment, then grinned. ‘Hello, you old so-and-so. You nearly gave me heart failure. How’re you doing?’

There was something of the old Resnick there, but the spark had definitely dimmed. Morgan found he couldn’t meet his eyes. He looked round Resnick’s bedside table.

‘You got something I can put these grapes in, George?’

Resnick leaned over to open the cabinet. ‘So what brings you here, Vic?’

Morgan managed a weak grin. ‘Heard you were running short of grapes.’ He pulled up a chair and placed it close to the bed.

Resnick was bent over, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet, when he winced with pain. He lay back on the bed, his face drawn, teeth clenched, and snorted as if the pain was coming through his nose.

Morgan looked round the bed and saw the tubes. ‘You all right, George?’

Resnick lay back, exhausted, and let out his breath. ‘I’m OK now. I’m OK.’

He didn’t look OK, and Morgan decided to cut out all the chitchat and get right down to it before the sister threw him out. He took out his wallet and held up the photograph.

‘This is Harry Rawlins, isn’t it?’

Resnick reached for the photo with his bad hand. Morgan could see how little movement he had in the fingers. Resnick nodded.

‘And Rawlins’ wife, she’d be blonde, about five-six, medium build, good taste in clothes?’

‘Yeah, that sounds like her.’

Morgan moved closer to the bed. ‘I’ve got her. She’s looking for him, which is why she came to me. Gave me a cock and bull story about a sister with a cheating husband.’

A little gleam came back into Resnick’s eyes. ‘Who else knows about this?’

‘Just you and me. Maybe we could do a deal, the pair of us. I’ll trade you for what you know, and get a slice of that reward for any information on the underpass security raid.’

Resnick was now much perkier. ‘You’re on!’ he said with a grin.

Morgan smiled. ‘OK! You can start by telling me everything you know about Dolly Rawlins.’

The basement kitchens of Amanda’s nightclub were a warren of little rooms. In one, there were two chefs, carving up some veal. In another, there were two washers-up, cleaning dishes and glasses.

Micky Tesco was going to town, chatting away with one of the chefs, saying that it wasn’t worth his job to let these crates go in without being signed for; he had to have a docket filled in. So where was the manager?

‘Too early. He’s not here. You better come back later,’ the chef told him.

Rawlins admired how Tesco worked on the chef, nattering on, picking up bits of food, acting as if he had all the time in the world.

Eventually the chef paused in his carving. ‘Look, mate, if you want to try and find him, feel free to go on into the club, but I’m telling you he’s not there.’

Tesco shot Harry a look and moved off.

Now it was Harry’s turn. He asked the chef how many men worked in the kitchens, when they came on, what time they left, all the time keeping up the chat as if it was just one working stiff to another. In between chopping meat and barking orders at his second-in-command, the chef revealed that at least fourteen people worked in the kitchens at night when the club was in full swing.

He suddenly turned to Harry. ‘What company did you say you were from again?’

‘Warrington’s,’ Harry replied without a flicker. The chef grunted and carried on what he was doing.

Tesco reappeared in the kitchen with a grin. ‘After all that, turns out we’re in the wrong club!’ He looked at Harry. ‘We’d better get going.’

They picked up their crates and with a friendly nod to the chef, they walked out of the door and up the basement steps.

Tesco threw the crates in the back of the truck, then walked round and got into the driving seat. He turned to Harry.

‘So what do you think?’

‘What do I think? Like I said, Micky, the place is a bitch.’

As Shirley came downstairs, she could hear the TV blaring. She walked into the lounge and there was Linda, curled up nice and comfy amid the cushions, gawping at the screen. Shirley swore she was so fed up with having Linda and Bella living in her house — particularly Linda — she’d prefer to have Greg back. She stood in the doorway with her arms folded.

‘Any chance of you cleaning the bath after yourself?’ she asked in a sarcastic tone.

‘Sure,’ Linda replied distractedly. She pointed at the TV. ‘What a load of old rubbish. Gawd almighty. I mean, I know it’s a kids’ program, but it’s completely ridiculous.’

Shirley looked round the room. There were dirty coffee cups on every surface. ‘And maybe when you’ve finished with the bath, you could do some washing up? If you get a minute, of course, Linda. Linda? Linda, are you listening?’

Linda seemed totally absorbed in the TV program.

Shirley rolled her eyes. ‘Right, I’m going to see me mum.’

‘Oh, in that case,’ Linda said, without taking her eyes off the screen, ‘would you pick up some coffee, tea, butter, eggs, milk...’

Shirley put her hands on her hips. ‘Oh, fine, I said I was goin’ to me mum’s, but I’ll take the trolley with me!’

‘Great. Oh, and don’t forget some soap, and cornflakes...’ Linda was still adding items to the shopping list as Shirley walked out of the room.

After a while she got up to change the channel. She saw the video machine under the TV had a film in it. She pressed the button and went back to sit on the sofa. It couldn’t be any worse than what’s on TV, she thought. She just hoped it was something for adults.

A minute later, her jaw hanging open, she found that it was.

Ray Bates had spent most of the morning at Mothercare. He felt a strange thrill, walking up and down the shop, looking at all the gear he could buy. He’d come back with a pair of tiny blue bootees and he had them in his hand, smiling stupidly at them, when Micky Tesco arrived.

He looked at Ray and the boots. ‘New line, is it?’

Ray beamed and told him the whole story. ‘I’m gonna be a father, at my age! Isn’t that fantastic?’

Tesco couldn’t quite take it in. ‘You mean Audrey?’

‘Yeah,’ said Ray. A worried look suddenly came over his face. ‘Tell you what, though, I hope to God business picks up!’

Tesco grinned and sat down. ‘You’ve obviously been keepin’ your end up!’

One of the bootees was flung at his head. Micky held it in his hand and plucked at the wool.

‘Shirley working, is she? Doin’ any modeling?’

‘Why? Gonna offer her a job, are you?’

Micky tossed the little shoe back. ‘Why not? Friend of mine runs a model agency. I think I could do something for her.’

Ray shook his head with a grin. ‘I bet you could, Micky, I bet you could!’

The video was still playing when Linda ushered Dolly into the room. She picked up the remote control and began to play the film back to catch up on the bits she’d missed. Dolly put her bag down and began dusting off her coat. She’d been at the damned drill hall again, and it was still filthy, absolutely disgusting — you’d think with kids round they’d clean the place. Then she looked at the screen and her mouth dropped open.

‘What in God’s name is this?’

Linda grinned. ‘I found it in the machine. Tell you what, that Shirley’s a bit of a dark horse. Let me rewind a bit. There’s a bloke — no word of a lie — who’s got one down to just below his knees.’

Dolly was disgusted. ‘Turn it off!’

The front door slammed and Dolly called out sharply, ‘Who’s that?’

Bella pushed open the door. ‘Only me.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘How does this sound — cops were down in the car park in under a minute. Rang them, said I’d seen a flasher, and... Bloody hell, what’s this?’

‘One of Shirley’s videos,’ Dolly told her.

Bella roared with laughter. ‘Shirley’s?’ She got closer to the screen. ‘Oh my gawd — how did those two get into that position?’

‘I think there’s three of them,’ Dolly said, shaking her head.

‘Oh yeah?’ Bella screeched. ‘You seen it before, have you, Doll?’

Furious, Dolly went and ripped the plug from the wall. ‘If that’s all you two have got to think about then I’m sorry for you!’ She looked at Linda. ‘You get a case for the money?’

‘Me and Bella talked it over,’ Linda said, ‘and thought a briefcase was a bit too obvious. So we decided to use one of Shirley’s old shopping bags.’

Dolly thought for a moment. ‘Fair enough.’

‘What time are we going to call Harry?’ Linda asked. She had to repeat the question three times as Dolly was just sat, staring into space.

Eventually, sounding distant, as if she was talking to herself, Dolly answered. ‘Not until way after midnight. The later the better. We still have to work out exactly how long it’s going to take us all to get there. Shirley will need at least three hours, knowing her driving.’

She opened the holdall to look at the money she’d taken from the drill hall, then leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes, muttering, ‘This is crazy, it’s crazy!’

‘You think Harry’s gonna try something?’ Bella asked.

Dolly opened her eyes and tipped all the money out of the bag. Her voice was chillingly cold. ‘I don’t think, I know it. Now, where’s Shirley?’

Linda picked up some of the money and began counting it. ‘Shopping.’

‘What time did she say she’d be back?’

Linda shrugged. ‘Dunno. She said something about seeing her mother.’

Bella picked up some of the money. ‘It’ll work, Dolly. Sixty thousand pounds is a lot of cash!’

This was the moment when Dolly could have told them just how much she’d cleaned out Harry for. But she didn’t. She just sat there and watched the two girls carefully counting out Harry’s pay-off.

Shirley couldn’t believe her ears.

‘Yeah, two months!’ Audrey repeated, a bit sheepishly.

Shirley almost had to hold on to the kitchen table to stop herself falling down. ‘But you can’t be! You’re too old!’

‘Oh, thanks a lot!’

Shirley picked up her shopping bag and put it on the table. ‘You’re not gonna have it, are you?’

Audrey laughed. ‘Of course I’m gonna have it.’ Then she looked at Shirley and added, ‘Ray’s over the moon about it.’

‘Oh, I’ll bet,’ Shirley shot back. ‘Gonna have a white wedding, are you, Mum? He gonna marry you, is he? Oh, come on, don’t be stupid. You can’t have it!’

Audrey put the teapot on the table and looked at her daughter.

‘I mean, what’s everybody gonna say, Mum?’ Shirley continued. ‘You can’t have a baby at your age. It’ll be a mongol!’

Audrey gasped. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say. Don’t say things like that, you hear me?’

Shirley took a cake out of its box and put it on a plate. ‘Does Greg know? How’s he gonna take it?’

Audrey got some plates from a cupboard. ‘I really don’t care what he thinks. It’s my baby — mine and Ray’s.’

Shirley went to the cutlery drawer and took out a cake knife. ‘Well, he’s gonna go off the deep end, I reckon.’ She shook her head. ‘I dunno — never mind about having another kid, you can’t even handle the ones you’ve got!’

Audrey took the knife from Shirley. ‘Well, if Ursula Andress can do it...’

Shirley looked puzzled.

‘The blonde movie actress — you know!’

Shirley rolled her eyes and Audrey started cutting the cake. Shirley put a hand on her arm. ‘You know you needn’t bother coming to me for a handout when Ray hops it — because that’s what he’s going to do. That’s what Greg’s so-called father did, what mine did. I haven’t seen my big brother Mike for years. And when he does come home you get into a right old state because of our dad leaving to live on the military base in Germany. It’s no wonder Mike wanted to go there and be with him instead of living here in this shithole. Every man you’ve ever had has only hung round long enough to get what they wanted and then pissed off!’

Audrey’s hand shot out and slapped Shirley hard across the face.

There was a strange moment as the two women looked at each other. In all the years and all the troubles they’d been through, Audrey had never slapped her daughter before.

Shirley picked up her bag. ‘You’re making a big mistake, Mum. You know you could still—’

‘Get out!’ Audrey yelled. She sat at the kitchen table, looking at the cake. She picked up a piece, then let it drop. Gently she rubbed her hand over her tummy.

‘You just don’t understand, Shirley,’ she said to herself. ‘It’s gonna be different this time.’ She wiped a tear from her eye. ‘Yeah, this time everything’s gonna be all right.’

A wave of guilt washed over her as Shirley opened her car door. For a moment she thought of going back and apologizing, but something stopped her.

She was just about to get into the car when she felt a slap on her behind. She turned round in a fury, expecting to see Greg, but it was Micky Tesco, standing there with a big grin on his face.

‘I can’t stand people who do that!’ she snapped.

He held the door open for her, still smiling. Shirley could smell his cologne.

‘You been to see our mum-to-be, eh, darlin’?’ he asked with a smirk.

Shirley could have hit him. She got into the car, but he still held onto the door.

‘You been doing any modeling lately?’

She opened her handbag and searched for her keys, wishing he’d shut up and go away.

He stuck his head in the car. ‘Friend of mine runs a modeling agency. I was talking about you.’

Shirley just laughed. ‘Oh, yeah?’ She couldn’t find her car keys.

‘Straight up! She wants to meet you. Marion Gordon.’

For a moment she stopped searching for her keys. Marion Gordon... she knew that name.

Micky straightened up. ‘You must have heard of her. I can fix you up an interview, no problem. You’re just the kind of girl she likes — you know, fresh, natural-looking.’ He paused, as if he was thinking. ‘What’re you doing right now?’

She looked at him, and he knew he’d got her, hook, line and sinker.

Shirley bit her lip. ‘What, meet her now? I’d have to change.’

He reached over and took the keys out of Shirley’s hand, then helped her out of the car.

‘Don’t forget your handbag, sweetheart.’ He reached into the car and handed her the bag.

Shirley knew he was manipulating her, but what rather disturbed her was that she didn’t seem to mind. She watched him shut the car door and lock it, before handing her back the keys. Then he gripped her elbow and led her across the street to his E-type Jaguar. He opened the passenger door, helped her in, shut the door — the perfect gentleman — and he was whistling when he got in next to her.

‘Well! Let’s go and see if I can get you a modeling job, yeah?’

‘What’s in it for you?’ Shirley asked, even though she knew the answer.

He smiled. ‘Well, one good turn deserves another, doesn’t it? So maybe you’ll have dinner with me one night. What do you say?’

Shirley didn’t reply, but he seemed to take that as a ‘yes.’ He revved the engine and they sped off.

‘Put your safety belt on, sweetheart. Don’t wanna lose you.’

Shirley did as he asked, but noticed he wasn’t wearing his. She glanced sidelong at him as he drove, and noticed a few other things. She liked the way he dressed: clean and sharp. And that cologne was rather nice. With his blond hair, piercing ice-blue eyes and perfect, even white teeth, she had to admit he was very striking. She settled back in her seat, liking the way he drove: fast, but always seeming to be in control.

‘Have you ever done any modeling?’ she asked after a while.

He threw his head back and laughed. ‘Yeah, once. I did a knitting pattern for Marion. That’s how I know her.’

‘So what happened?’

‘I couldn’t stand all the woofters about.’

‘So what do you do now?’

‘I’m in property, sweetheart. Buying and selling.’

Well, he must be doing all right, Shirley thought to herself. These cars aren’t cheap.

Micky accelerated expertly through the gears.

Got her, he told himself. I’ve got her...

Dolly had been washing up in the kitchen, and now she turned her attention to the stove, which was covered in grease after one of Linda’s fry-ups. She’d been back and forth to the various rooms in the house collecting dirty cups and saucers, including a saucer full of cigarette ends. Just the smell of it made her glad she didn’t smoke anymore. She missed having something to do with her hands, but that was a small price to pay, especially now that she was watching her weight.

Dolly was miles away when Linda came in, carrying a few more cups and saucers. She took them to the sink and picked up a dishcloth.

‘D’you want me to give you a hand, Dolly?’

‘If you like, love.’

Dolly had noticed a change in Linda of late. She was still nervous and jumpy, but instead of running off at the mouth, she was usually quiet. Often when they were together, she’d look over to see Linda just staring into space.

They washed and dried the dishes together for a minute in companionable silence, and then Dolly saw that Linda was crying, silent tears running down her face.

‘Has Bella been having a go at you again?’

Linda nodded. Dolly usually kept her emotions to herself, and she didn’t give her affections lightly. But she felt drawn to Linda now, almost like a daughter. She carried on scrubbing at a plate.

‘Harry knocked the stuffing out of you, didn’t he, sweetheart?’

Linda was quiet for a moment. ‘I was so scared, Dolly. I thought I was dying. It was the water, I’ve always been terrified of water, ever since I was a kid.’

Seeing that Linda’s nose was running, Dolly held her hands up in their rubber gloves. ‘Here, there’s a tissue in my apron pocket.’

Linda pulled out the tissue and blew her nose. She started to tell Dolly a story about when she was at the orphanage. It was strange, really: these women had spent so much time together — had been through so much together — and yet they didn’t really know each other, what each of them was feeling deep down. Dolly was moved by Linda’s description of life at the orphanage; how she remembered her mother taking her there when she was three, three and a half. She remembered her smell, but she could no longer visualize her face. What she did remember was those endless days waiting for the mother who never came. And then the final realization that she never would.

‘Were you ever happy there?’ Dolly asked, as she carried on washing up. ‘Were they kind to you?’

‘Yeah, they were kind, but it could never make up for not having a mum. D’you know what I mean, Dolly?’ Linda’s drying up slowed to a stop with a plate still in her hand. ‘The only real home I ever had was the one with Joe. I’m not saying it was perfect, but he was always there for me.’

Dolly felt Linda’s hand on her arm.

‘When this is all over, when the money’s sorted and everything, will you...?’

Linda was finding it difficult to tell Dolly what she felt, what she wanted. But eventually it all burst out.

‘I’m no good on my own; I never was. I mean, I should be, ’cos that’s all I’ve ever been, really, on me own, apart from Joe. But Dolly, will you stay with me? I don’t know what to do with the money — I need help. I’ll even give you my share to look after!’

To cover her own emotions, Dolly turned the hot water on. ‘Oh, come on, you don’t want an old woman like me hanging round you!’

‘You’re not old, Dolly! You’re so strong — you never seem to worry about anything.’

Dolly laughed, shaking her head as she turned the water off. ‘Never worry? Oh, Linda, if only you knew!’

Linda suddenly felt protective. She slipped her arm round Dolly. ‘I’m gonna take care of you, Dolly. After tonight, it’s all going to be over. An’ then, well, we’ll be together, you an’ me. Is that a deal?’

Dolly hugged her. She realized that for all these months she’d had no real human contact — no hugs, no kisses — and she held on tight, not wanting to let go.

‘It’s a deal, darling,’ she said eventually, and Linda beamed at her, bright as a button.

‘Be like ’aving a mum!’

Bella’s voice cut through the air like a knife. ‘This a private conversation or can anyone join in?’

Linda and Dolly broke apart, a little embarrassed. Dolly picked up the dishcloth and chucked it to Linda. ‘Come on, get cracking!’

Bella hovered at the doorway for a moment, then said to Linda, ‘There’s some cups out by the telephone you could wash up.’

Linda meekly walked out of the kitchen to pick up the dirty crockery. Dolly continued to wash, placing each bit of crockery carefully on the draining board. Without looking at Bella, she said, ‘You lay off her, Bella, you hear me?’

Bella picked up the dishcloth and started drying. ‘Me? What have I done?’

Dolly scrubbed at a cup furiously. ‘She swears she never told that feller of yours anything, so just let it drop!’

Bella dropped one of the plates she’d been drying with a crash. ‘Oh, shit! That’s one of Shirley’s best.’

Dolly took off the rubber gloves and started to pick up the pieces.

Bella watched her. ‘I don’t mean half the things I say to Linda, I don’t, it’s just... I don’t know what gets into me, Dolly. But she’s changed — you don’t realize how much.’

‘Maybe she has changed, Bella. Maybe we all have in some way. Now go on, go and give her a hand.’

Bella gave her a little smile and went out. Dolly opened the bin. It was full of broken cups and saucers.

By the time Micky led her into Marion Gordon’s outer office, Shirley’s confidence was sky-high. He seemed to know the secretary very well, chatting easily with her, and then asked for the ladies’ room so that Shirley could go and freshen up. It was this thoughtfulness that Shirley liked, and all the time he kept encouraging her, telling her not to be nervous, that she was beautiful and there was no way Marion Gordon was going to turn her down. This was going to be her big break. He even took her to the ladies’ himself, opened the door and found the light switch for her.

‘Just put a comb through your hair, darlin’. Don’t put any make-up on — you look lovely as you are. And Shirley, smile! Come on, give us a smile!’

Shirley smiled back at him, then took a brush and comb out of her handbag and looked at herself in the mirror.

Micky stood at Suzy, the secretary’s, desk, his manner subtly different. ‘I’ll go on in, then.’

Suzy leaned back in her chair. ‘You are naughty, you know, Micky. She’s very busy.’

Micky leant over the desk and stroked her cheek. ‘So am I, my darlin’, so am I.’

He strode into Marion’s office without knocking. There wasn’t even time for Suzy to bleep her boss and warn her that he was coming in.

Marion sat behind her desk. The whole office seemed to gleam: white carpet, a white canvas director’s chair, white walls that were covered with photos of models, from magazines and commercials.

Micky leaned casually on the door, while Marion flicked the switch on the intercom and told her secretary to hold all her calls.

She was in her mid-forties and still looked good. She was a beautiful woman, but a face-job had probably helped.

She pushed her tortoiseshell glasses back on her head and frowned. ‘What do you want, Micky?’

He sauntered across the white carpet and sat in the director’s chair. He seemed harder, sharper, than when he’d been with Shirley.

‘I haven’t got much time, Micky. I’m a busy woman.’

‘It wasn’t always like that, was it, Marion? Once upon a time you had plenty of time for me.’

‘Times have changed, Micky. What do you want?’

Shirley came out of the ladies’ room and Suzy looked her up and down. Quite nice, she thought. Natural. But she seemed nervous.

Shirley looked round for Micky.

‘He’s with Marion. Would you like a coffee?’

‘Yes, thank you very much.’

From the small kitchen, Suzy watched Shirley walk round the office, looking at the photographs. She was really raw, this one. She wondered where Micky had found her.

In Marion’s inner sanctum, the atmosphere was getting heated. Marion stood up from behind her desk.

‘You heard what I said: no. I’m a good agent, darlin’, but I can’t just take anybody on, especially with no experience. What d’you take me for?’

Micky just smiled. ‘Legit now, are you? Straight?’ The old Cockney accent was creeping back in. He got up and walked round to her. ‘Nice office, sweetheart, but who’re you kiddin’? You think the Sundays wouldn’t relish a nice tip-off, eh? How many girls have you got on the game nowadays?’

Marion turned to him. ‘Give me a break, Micky. That’s all in the past. I’m a legit models’ agent now — I’m not into anything else. Why don’t you leave me alone?’

‘I’m only askin’, Marion, darlin’. She’s a lovely girl — why don’t you just look ’er over?’

Marion resisted the urge to slap him. She went back to her desk and opened a large leather-bound diary. ‘All right, Micky, I’ll see ’er. But I’m not agreeing to take her on. Knowing your taste in women, she’s probably a right little scrubber.’ She turned a page in the diary, but Micky snapped it shut, catching her long, red fingernails. She withdrew her hand quickly. ‘All right, Micky, I’ll see her next week.’

‘No, darlin’, you’ll see her now. And what’s more, you’ll take her on.’

Marion sat back. Micky Tesco frightened her, but then he always had. She watched him walking casually round her office as if he owned it. God, how she hated him. He peered at the photographs of the models, looking them up and down, then came back to her.

‘You’ll take her on, Marion, and then I want her doing the charity show on the fifteenth, at Amanda’s club. Be a grand in it for you.’

Marion laughed and shook her head. ‘You joking? Amanda’s nightclub? No way, baby. Look, I’ve already got a crack team going in on that; they want the best girls I’ve got. I can’t take on a rank amateur. What d’you think I am?’

Micky moved fast. He grabbed hold of Marion’s wrist, making her wince. ‘I know what you are, and I want her on that job, you understand?’

She pulled her hand free. ‘I can’t do it, Micky.’

He pulled her to her feet and gripped her tight by the arms. ‘Yes, you can, Marion. You can do anything I want. We go back a long way, remember?’

‘You never let me forget it, Micky, do you?’

She felt his hands gripping her tighter. He was like a snake, squeezing the life out of her. Then suddenly he eased off, and his voice was gentler.

‘This is the last time, Marion. I swear, on my life, it’ll be the last favor I ever ask you. Just get that little girl on that job at Amanda’s.’ Then he pulled her head back and kissed her, a hard, vicious kiss, and however much she hated him, Marion could feel a surge of heat inside her. Even now he could still do it to her, just like he had when he was a kid of sixteen. She’d been a fool to pick him up, but then she’d always liked pretty, sixteen-year-old boys, and Micky Tesco was a classic. He’d grown up now, though, wasn’t a pretty little boy anymore. He was more like a monster, and that feeling in the pit of her stomach made her ashamed.

She pushed him away, but he wouldn’t let her go. He wasn’t finished with her yet. He pulled her head toward him again and she felt herself responding. And then it was just like it had always been. With one hand, Micky cleared all the diaries and notebooks from the desk. He lifted her up and laid her across the desk.

‘Well, Marion, here’s one for old times’ sake...’

Shirley had finished her coffee and smoked a second cigarette. Suzy was getting a little edgy, continually looking toward the door, then back to Shirley. Eventually the door opened and Micky stood there, smiling.

He grinned over at Shirley. ‘Won’t be a moment, sweetheart.’ Then he shut the door again.

Marion was sprawled on the desk with her jeans round her ankles and her silk shirt unbuttoned. Micky looked at her with disgust.

‘Tidy yourself up. Come on, pull your trousers up, for Christ’s sake!’

Marion hastily hitched up her jeans and buttoned her shirt. She had to search round for her glasses.

‘Smile, sweetheart.’ Micky held his hands together like a camera. ‘That’s a good girl.’

He opened the door wide, beckoning Shirley over, and Marion just had time to sit back down at her desk, trying to hold back the tears.

‘Marion, I’d like you to meet Shirley.’ Micky ushered Shirley in and closed the door behind her.

Marion’s hands were shaking as she motioned for Shirley to sit down in the director’s chair. She looked at the pretty, innocent-looking girl before her and wondered if she had any idea what sort of a man Micky Tesco was.

‘So,’ she said, with a deep sigh. ‘You want to be a model, do you?’

Bella was standing at the window, waiting. They’d already called Shirley’s mother, only to be told, in a rather abrupt tone, that Shirley had left hours ago. Bella closed the curtain again and turned back to Linda.

‘Where the hell is she?’

Linda was sitting on the sofa. ‘You remember that little gun?’

Bella switched on the TV. ‘What film is this?’

Linda got up and switched the TV off again. ‘Listen to me. At the lock-up. Dolly had a gun.’

‘What about it?’

Linda chose her words very carefully. ‘Well, if something was to go wrong, I’d feel a lot safer if I had it.’

Dolly walked into the lounge. ‘Had what?’

‘Your gun,’ said Bella. ‘Linda was saying she’d feel a lot safer if she had it.’

‘No. No guns,’ Dolly said.

Linda appealed to her. ‘Look, I just thought... for protection, you know — if something goes wrong.’

Dolly turned on her sharply. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said? No guns!’ She sat on the sofa. ‘Right, I’ve been working out exactly what we’ll say...’ She looked at the sofa. ‘What in God’s name is that?’

It was the most extraordinary Guy Fawkes dummy: a pair of ratty jeans stuffed with old tights and bits of newspaper, a bulging sweater — and now Linda was stuffing the seat of a pair of tights with bits of old magazines.

She held the dummy up. ‘It’s great, isn’t it? When I’m parked, for cover, I’m going to put his arms round me like this. And then, you see, we’ll look as if we’re snogging. I mean, if Harry drives past and sees me sitting in the car, he might think it looks suspicious, right? But if he sees a couple snogging, he won’t pay any attention, right?’

Bella was sarcastic. ‘Brilliant. What sort of a feller has a head the size of a peanut, with a pair of knickers on top?’

Linda giggled. ‘It’s not finished yet. He hasn’t got his hat on.’

Dolly shook her head, watching the two girls. ‘You’re like a couple of kids!’

Linda was now dancing round the room with the ridiculous dummy, a pair of shoes dangling from the legs of its jeans.

‘For Christ’s sake,’ said Dolly. ‘Can’t you two concentrate on anything for more than two seconds? Didn’t you hear what I said? I’ve worked out what we say to Harry.’

Linda put the dummy down. ‘Sorry, Dolly. Which one of us is gonna make the call then?’

Dolly looked up. ‘Who the hell do you think?’

In a cozy corner in a little pub in Mayfair, Micky poured Shirley another glass of champagne, and she drained half of it in one go. She couldn’t believe her luck. The meeting with Marion Gordon had gone just the way she’d always dreamt it would. Marion had looked her up and down, asked her to walk the length of the room, and then sat back. She’d seemed a little bit edgy, but maybe they were always like that, these high-powered model agents. Quick as a flash, she’d said she’d fix up a photographic session, and might even have a job lined up for her.

Shirley was brimming over with happiness, and the words were tumbling out over each other.

‘Oh, Micky, the girls she’s got, they do Vogue, Elle, Tatler, all the really top jobs. I’ll never be able to thank you properly!’

Micky smiled and filled her glass again. ‘Oh, I’ll think of a way, darlin’.’ He took a quick look at his watch. ‘I’m afraid I’m gonna have to make a move.’

Shirley looked at her own watch and gasped when she realized the time. She stood up. ‘Oh, my God, I’d no idea it was so late!’

Micky picked up her bag. ‘I’ll drop you back at your car. Here you go, don’t forget your handbag.’

‘Oh, thanks, Micky.’

Micky stood close, but he didn’t reach out to touch her, he just smiled down into her eyes. ‘That’s all right, Shirley. Come on, let’s go.’

For a moment Shirley had thought he was going to kiss her, and even though part of her wanted him to, she was pleased he didn’t. It made her like him even more.

He opened the door and guided her toward the E-type. Still the perfect gentleman, he helped her in, then bent over the seat belt. This time she really wanted him to kiss her. She was intensely aware of his hands, his body, the smell of his cologne. Shirley was tall, at least five-eight, and Terry, her husband, had only been about five foot six. She’d never minded, never really thought about it, but suddenly it was nice to be with somebody so tall, so strong-looking.

As the car moved off, she seemed to be in a dream. Micky was looking at her.

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘I can’t believe I’m gonna be a professional model now. It’s what I’ve always wanted.’

He smiled. He had a lovely smile, thought Shirley.

But Tesco was thinking: Shit, I’m gonna be late for Rawlins. He’ll hit the fucking roof.

Harry entered the lock-up and put down the cases he was carrying. Gordon Murphy had already made coffee and was sitting on one of the orange boxes, studying the layout of Amanda’s nightclub.

‘Not exactly a piece of cake, is it, Harry?’ he said.

Harry helped himself to coffee and sat down with a wry smile. ‘Never said it was, did I?’

Murphy grunted. ‘Well, the man we need to look over the place is Colin Soal. D’you know him? You’ll have to pay through the nose, but he’ll do a good job. He’ll scope out every inch of the place, down to the toilet paper. We’ve gotta have a good man inside there, Harry. There’s so many entrances and exits, and that kitchen’s a bastard.’

Harry didn’t answer. Eventually Murphy looked at him. ‘What d’you reckon about Colin Soal?’

Harry seemed tetchy, looking at his watch. ‘Yeah, I remember him. He was... A bit long in the tooth now, isn’t he? Where the hell is Micky?’

Murphy nodded at the suitcases. ‘You on the move?’

Harry smiled. ‘Well, if the wife can find me, so can half of London.’

‘D’you think Dolly’s going to try and pull something tonight?’ Murphy asked. ‘You got any idea where she’s gonna hand over the cash?’

Harry’s mouth tightened. He didn’t like all these questions. ‘No idea.’

Harry got to his feet and started pacing up and down. His fists clenched and unclenched as he worked himself up into a temper. It was coming back to this place, he thought, this stinking lock-up. He hated it, but it was one of the few things he’d got left; she’d taken everything else, the bitch.

Harry went to the telephone, which was in a small annex.

‘Don’t worry, Harry, the phone’s on. I got that sorted,’ Murphy called to him. Harry made Murphy nervous when he was like this, prowling round like a caged animal.

Harry went back to his pacing. Then he stopped, facing the dividing wall with the adjoining lock-up.

‘You check out the place next door?’

‘Yeah, couple of kids bought the lease, and the next one along. Printers or something. They’re a bunch of wallies. What’s the matter, you hear something?’

Harry was still facing the wall, listening.

‘Oh, it’ll be the rats,’ Murphy said. ‘The place next door’s crawling with them.’

Harry slammed his fist into the wall. ‘Where is that stupid git?’ He turned sharply as Tesco breezed in.

‘Someone mention my name? Hey, you should keep that door locked, you know. Anyone could come in.’

Harry just stared at him. ‘You’re late.’

Micky sat down next to Murphy and picked up a coffee mug. ‘This hot, is it? Good.’ He turned to Harry, trying to keep up the chat, telling him everything he’d done, before Harry could tear him off a strip. ‘I been fixing up that girl I told you about, the model for the nightclub. You said, “Get a girl on the inside.” Well, I’ve got one.’

Harry came and stood over Micky. ‘When I tell you to be somewhere at a certain time, I want you there.’ He gave him a cold stare for a few seconds. ‘How much does she know?’

Micky shrugged. Harry really did frighten him at times, but he was determined not to show it.

‘Nothin’, I told her nothin’. She’s straight, just a dumb chick. What is this? Why the third degree?’

Harry sat down next to him. ‘You gotta new place for me to stay?’

Micky could feel his own temper rising. He hated being pushed all the time. He also hated being stared at by Gordon Murphy.

‘Yeah, I got a pad for a couple o’ weeks. I bin doin’ what you told me, Harry — I can’t be in four bleeding places at once!’

All Harry said was, ‘I don’t care about that. You were late.’

‘All right! I was bleedin’ late!’ Micky snapped.

‘Why don’t you drop it, Harry?’ Murphy said quietly.

Harry gave him a look. ‘Fill ’im in. We’ll meet up here later.’ He turned and walked out.

Once he was gone, Micky stood up and kicked over the orange box. ‘Who the friggin’ hell does he think he is? I’m not takin’ that, not from him, not from anybody!’

Murphy smiled and put the orange box back. ‘You just did, son.’

‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ Dolly shouted, her eyes blazing with anger.

Shirley stood in the center of the lounge with a hangdog expression. ‘I... I went out for a job.’

Dolly lifted her hands in despair. ‘A job? You went for a bloody job? I don’t believe it.’

‘She’s been drinking too. You can smell it on her!’ Linda chipped in.

Dolly whipped round with a furious look and just managed to stop herself from slapping her. ‘Shut up, Linda!’

Linda was hurt. ‘Well, she has been,’ she protested. ‘My God, if it was me...’

‘Well, it isn’t, so that makes a change!’ Dolly snapped.

Seeing them bicker gave Shirley her courage back. ‘It’s not as if I’d done something terrible. You told us to act like normal — and that’s what I’ve been doin’. I’ve always wanted to be a model... And, I mean, you’re not even goin’ to make the call till after midnight!’

Dolly couldn’t believe this girl. ‘Didn’t it ever occur to you that we might have been worried?’

Shirley did feel bad about that, but she wasn’t going to back down. ‘I wasn’t gonna give up my chance, Dolly; not for you, not for anybody! I don’t care about my share — you can have it!’

‘Just you hold your temper, my girl,’ Dolly said.

‘Why the hell should I?’ Shirley shouted. ‘This is my house! You’re shouting at me and it’s my house!’

Bella snorted. ‘Two weeks in LA and she thinks she’s a bleedin’ movie star!’

Dolly turned to Linda and Bella. ‘Right, get into the kitchen, the pair of you, and make us something to eat. Go on, now! And you, Shirley, sit down.’

Shirley stomped over to the sofa and plonked herself down. ‘All right, Dolly, I’m sorry, OK?’

Dolly ignored her while she fetched her notebook from her handbag, then joined her on the sofa. Shirley took out her cigarettes and lit one. Dolly wafted the smoke away from her face.

‘Right, fine, now this is what you’ve got to focus on. I’ve worked it out. This is your route, Shirley. You head toward Hampstead, coming up Haverstock Hill here...’ She pointed with a pencil. ‘You turn right into Pond Street, here. You pass Bella, standing on the corner by the phone booth outside the cinema.’

‘Me mum’s pregnant,’ said Shirley.

Dolly looked as if someone had just hit her on the head with a brick. She did a very slow turn toward Shirley. ‘What?’

‘I know, it’s disgusting, isn’t it?’

Dolly threw down her pencil. ‘I don’t believe it, I just don’t believe it.’

‘Well, nor could I!’ said Shirley. ‘I mean, she’s forty-four, same age as Ursula Andress, but...’

Dolly could feel the fury building up inside her, but she knew she had to control herself. Between gritted teeth, she said, ‘Shirley, just pay attention, all right? Let’s go over your route again.’

In the kitchen, Linda was frying up bacon and eggs. Not used to an electric cooker, she had the heat on too high and the bacon was burning, grease spitting everywhere.

‘It’s all sticking to the pan!’ she called out.

Bella was hacking her way through a loaf. ‘It can’t be, Linda. It’s a non-stick pan. Why don’t you put some butter in?’

The smell of burning brought Dolly into the kitchen. She was about to ask Linda what the hell she was doing when there was a scream. The three women froze.

Shirley burst into the kitchen, clutching Linda’s dummy. She was hysterical, her voice shaking.

‘Is this supposed to be funny?’ She threw the doll on the floor. She was almost in tears.

Dolly sighed and turned to Linda. ‘Where did you put it?’

Linda was like a naughty schoolgirl, head down, blushing. ‘I sat it on the toilet. It was a joke...’

‘Well, it bloody backfired, didn’t it? Just take it away.’

Linda picked it up from the floor.

Shirley was taking deep breaths, getting herself under control. ‘I thought it was him...’

Dolly looked at each of them in turn. ‘You want out? Well, so do I. The sooner I see the back of the lot of you, the better.’ She walked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

For a moment they just looked at each other, then Shirley suggested that someone should take the pan off the cooker before they burned the house down. She followed Dolly out, giving Linda one last, filthy look before she went.

Linda stood there, still clutching the dummy. ‘I didn’t mean any harm...’

Bella took the pan off the stove and turned it off. ‘It showed us one thing, didn’t it? We’re all scared of him.’ Her face was tight. ‘I hate him.’ She thought for a moment. ‘You leave first, don’t you, Linda? D’you remember where it is? In the boot of the second or third car, just by the door.’

Linda looked confused. ‘What d’ya mean? What’re you talkin’ about?’

Bella looked at her. ‘When we leave tonight, you go first, you go to the lock-up, and you get that gun.’

‘But... But Dolly said no guns, Bella.’ Linda hugged the dummy.

Bella’s voice was harsh. ‘Yeah, she said a lot of things. But I want bloody protection. If that bastard Rawlins tries anything, I’m gonna kill ’im — so help me God, I’ll kill ’im! Now will you get the gun, Linda?’

Linda swallowed. ‘OK.’ Like a child, she put her hand out for Bella to shake. ‘Friends?’

Bella walked out of the kitchen.

Linda started to feel that old, clammy fear, the one at the orphanage, when Mummy didn’t come — when nobody came — and she knew she was all alone yet again.

Rawlins sat at the small table by the telephone, drumming his fingers impatiently while he waited for it to ring. Next to the phone was an A — Z and a notepad. Rawlins checked the time on his watch. He wondered if he’d been wrong; perhaps Dolly wasn’t going to call. But then he relaxed in the chair. No, he knew his Dolly; he knew she’d call.

The girls were all sitting in the lounge, eyes on the clock. Bella gave Linda a slight nod.

Linda got to her feet. ‘Right, it’s best if I go now, Dolly, so I can check out the area.’

Dolly looked at her watch, as if she didn’t trust the clock. ‘All right, Linda, off you go. But remember, if you see anything, anything at all—’

‘I know.’ Linda nodded. ‘I’ll call it off. But don’t worry, if I get a move on, I can give that place a really good once-over.’ She marched to the door, then came back with a sheepish grin and picked up her dummy. ‘Good luck, everyone — see you all there!’

At the door she changed her mind, went over to Dolly and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Take care, Dolly.’ Then she went to Shirley and gave her a kiss. ‘Take care,’ she said. She turned hopefully to Bella, but Bella gave her one of her looks, then, as Linda bent down, she whispered, ‘Just get the gun.’

Micky Tesco was wearing black leathers and a motorbike helmet, the visor raised. He looked over at Murphy, who was sitting calmly, reading a trashy women’s magazine.

‘I can’t take much more of this hanging round. If I’d known we were goin’ to be this long, I’d have brought me bleedin’ camp bed! I’m not waiting all fuckin’ night!’

Murphy didn’t look up from the magazine. ‘For sixty grand, you’ll wait, Micky.’

Dolly tried to keep her hand from shaking as she dialed. Bella and Shirley stood over her, watching the phone as if it were a live thing.

Dolly’s back suddenly went rigid. ‘It’s ringing!’

Bella whispered, ‘I’m with you. Go on, do it, girl...’

The phone was picked up.

‘Harry? This is Dolly...’

That was the signal. Shirley and Bella nodded to Dolly, gave her a last thumbs-up, and left her to make the deal with Harry.

Linda drove toward the lock-up, the dummy propped up on the passenger seat. She drove fast, concentrating hard on not making any mistakes, and she could feel herself beginning to sweat. She turned the radio on and fiddled with the tuner until she found Radio Luxembourg. There was a ballad playing, a heartbroken girl singing, ‘We will meet again, when the night is over, we will meet again...’ It sent chills up Linda’s spine, so she turned it off and drove on toward the lock-up in silence.

‘Fifteen minutes? You must be joking!’ Harry protested. ‘I’ll never make it! All right, all right. Now, you wanna go over the details one more time, Doll?’

While he spoke, Harry was carefully tracing a route with a red felt-tipped pen across the map. ‘OK now, this car park, Dolly...’ He ringed it with his pen. ‘I don’t know any car parks on Hampstead Heath, Doll... All right, OK, just take it easy, I’ll find it.’ He traced the roads surrounding the car park. ‘OK, yup, I’ll find it, but it might take more than fifteen minutes, all right?’

Dolly’s voice at the other end of the phone was tense. ‘Fifteen minutes is all you’ve got. And I want the headlights off, interior lights on. If I see any sign of anyone, anything suspicious, I’ll drive straight on by.’ She found her mouth had gone dry. ‘I want you to step out of the car. We meet out in the open.’ Up to this point she’d managed to stay calm, but now suddenly she could feel her voice cracking, tears welling up. She wanted more than anything not to cry, and she gritted her teeth, trying to keep her emotions under control. ‘Harry, if you try anything — if you come after me, if you try and follow me — I’ll talk. I’m prepared to lose everything, you understand me, Harry? Everything. You’ve got to leave us alone, all of us.’

Harry was on his feet now, the book and maps bundled together in his pocket. ‘It’s a deal. You’ve got my word. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes, then, Doll? You there, Doll?’

But Dolly had already hung up. Harry slammed the phone in its cradle, then quickly picked it up and began dialing.

Linda let herself into the lock-up and looked round at all the half-wrecked cars. Then she saw the light coming from an open door and heard the muffled voices. She looked round in panic, dropped her car keys, and bent to pick them up just as Micky Tesco ran past her, his visor over his face. He fired up his motorbike, which was parked near the main doors. He was followed by Gordon Murphy.

Linda crawled behind one of the cars, trying to make herself invisible. She peeked out to see Gordon Murphy walking toward the main doors. As he started opening them, he yelled, ‘Just you make sure you get the money!’

Micky was revving up the bike. ‘I hear you!’ he shouted back. Then the bike sped away.

The place went dark as Murphy closed the doors. Linda stood up and began to search frantically round the floor for her keys.

The car park was dark, silent and deserted.

Shirley dropped Bella by the phone booth next to the cinema. Bella looked round the empty streets toward the car park. ‘It looks pretty quiet, but have a good check round and come back.’

Shirley drove off.

Bella checked that the phone was still working. She stepped out of the booth and stood in the cinema entrance. Hidden from the street, she watched.

Eventually Linda found her car keys and started searching the boots of the old cars. She found the small velvet bag in the third one, just where Bella had told her it would be. She felt inside and there was the gun.

She was scared that Murphy had put a chain on the door, but her luck was in. The door opened and she slipped out.

Harry had a quick look round the flat, seemingly in no hurry, before shutting the door behind him. He calmly crossed the road to his Jaguar and drove away.

Dolly checked her watch for the fifteenth time and picked up the bag containing the £60,000. She turned off all the lights in the house and went out to her car.

As Shirley pulled up, Bella stepped from her hiding place in the cinema entrance and hurried to the car.

‘Linda’s not in position!’ Shirley exclaimed.

Bella was calmer. ‘Have you checked out all the parked cars?’

Shirley nodded. ‘I’ve looked in every last one. It’s like a graveyard up there. But where’s Linda? What should I do?’

Bella looked back up Pond Street. It was empty. She turned back to Shirley. ‘Look, go and get into position. Park right on the corner. Anything goes wrong, just give me the signal, flash your lights.’

‘Yeah, I know what to do, but what about Linda?’

Bella decided to tell her. ‘It’s OK, she’s gone for a gun.’

Riding the bike hard, Micky Tesco came up East Heath Road and on past the ponds, ignoring the car park to his right. He continued toward the Vale of Health, then veered across the road, up onto the pavement and cut the headlights. He moved onto a narrow pathway on the heath itself, then switched the engine off and pushed the bike toward the top of the hill. It took time; the bike was heavy and he needed all of his strength to do it. He heaved it into a position where he had a perfect view of the car park below him. The place was still deserted. He was in good time. Looking up the hill from the car park, Tesco, in black leathers and helmet, on the black bike, would be practically invisible.

Gordon Murphy headed in the opposite direction, coming down East Heath Road toward the car park. He passed a block of exclusive flats overlooking the heath, passed the car park and the ponds on his left, then turned right on to Downshire Hill, making a quick U-turn so he could park facing the car park. His instructions were to keep out of Harry and Micky’s way. His job was to follow Dolly and find out where she was staying. That was all he had to do. He switched off his lights and sat, waiting.

Shirley was unaware that while she had been talking to Bella on the corner, Tesco and Murphy had taken up their positions. As she returned and parked her car, the heath seemed as still and silent as before. She was now in position, facing the car park, waiting. Linda had still not shown up.

Linda had reached Englands Lane. She knew she was late, still more than five minutes from the car park, and the dummy lurched sideways in the seat beside her as she screeched round the corner.

Bella watched Harry Rawlins’ Jag pass the cinema, heading toward the car park. She looked toward Shirley’s parked car. There was no warning flash, so all must be well. But where the hell was Linda? She looked up Pond Street again, toward Haverstock Hill, hoping to see her appearing.

Harry arrived at the car park, drove up past the big oak tree and did a slow U-turn, ending up dead center of the car park, as Dolly had instructed him. He turned his lights off, and for a moment he was in total darkness. He glanced up toward the hill, hoping Micky Tesco was in position. Then he turned and looked across East Heath Road to where Murphy should be parked. He flicked on the interior light and opened the doors.

It was frightening. There he was, sitting in the car just as they had planned, clear as daylight. For the first time, Shirley had a really good look at Harry Rawlins.

As Bella was staring up Pond Street, desperate for a sight of Linda, Dolly drove past, heading toward the heath. With no warning signal from Bella, she drove on.

Shirley saw Dolly in the green Ford heading toward the car park and inched herself up in the seat. As arranged, Dolly parked her car exactly across the exit. Now Harry couldn’t get out. So far, everything was going according to plan. The one missing link was Linda...

Micky Tesco tensed when he saw Dolly’s car pulling up.

Gordon Murphy had the key already in the ignition, poised, ready to follow Dolly as soon as she started to move.

Dolly stared. She could see him now. She watched as he got out of the Jaguar and stood there. He was smiling. He lifted his hands above his head, then shook his arms in a comical gesture to indicate that he had nothing up his sleeve, nothing in his pockets. He turned round, as if he was making a joke of the whole thing. Seeing him there, actually seeing him, just two hundred yards away, made Dolly suddenly unsure whether she could go through with it. His presence totally unnerved her. She clenched her fists hard, her nails almost cutting into her palms, in an effort to pull herself together.

Right, here we go, she thought. She reached over the back of the seat and picked up the shopping bag full of money.

Linda veered right on to Pond Street, her tires squealing — and straight into the path of a car accelerating up the hill. Blinded by her lights, the other driver swerved out of her way and crashed into the wall surrounding the church. Linda pulled up and stared in panic behind her. The driver and a female passenger got out, shouting and screaming at her. The windscreen had shattered, and the front end was badly dented, but they were both on their feet and she couldn’t see any blood, so Linda turned and drove on toward the heath.

Seconds later, the badly shocked driver saw a patrol car passing on Rosslyn Hill and ran toward it to flag it down. Linda was so focused on catching up with Bella she didn’t see it turning down Pond Street behind her, its lights flashing. As she accelerated down the hill, the patrol car was already radioing in for backup: ‘Red Ford Capri heading down Pond Street toward the heath, registration RKT 23X, repeat...’

At the bottom of the hill, Linda already had the passenger door open as Bella ran from the cinema. She was hysterical, shouting, ‘Give me the gun!’

As she drove on toward the car park, Linda tried to fill Bella in on what had happened at the lock-up. ‘There was a motorbike! Harry’s not... It’s the motorbike, the motorbike!’

Bella leaned across Linda and hit the horn as hard as she could, trying to warn Dolly not to hand over the money.

Dolly and Harry were only yards apart. He held his hand out for the shopping bag as he approached her.

Linda and Bella, car horn blaring, screeched up.

Dolly turned; Harry turned.

Bella was out of the car, running like a crazy thing toward Dolly, screaming: ‘Dolly, run! Don’t give him the money! Run! Run, Dolly!’

As soon as Tesco saw the bag about to be handed over, he kicked the bike into life and raced down the hill without lights, wheels lifting off the ground at one point, bumping fast across the pathway. When he hit the car park, he headed straight across the gravel toward Dolly.

Bella was still running toward Dolly, the gun held out stiffly in front of her, Linda trailing behind. Dolly clutched the shopping bag to her chest as she backed toward them. Harry took it all in, saw Tesco coming toward them on his bike, and turned back toward the Jaguar.

From his position, Murphy couldn’t make out what the hell was going on. There seemed to be people running in every direction, car horns blaring, people shouting, lights flashing. He strained forward for a better view, turned the engine on, and then his headlights — still it was chaos. Gravel churned as Tesco hurtled toward Dolly.

Linda screamed at her to get away. ‘It’s the bike — the bloke on the bike’s going to take the money. Run, Dolly!’

Harry started the Jag. Bella was running toward him, shouting something, pointing a gun.

Dolly was dazed, trying to work out who was shouting what. As Shirley jumped from her car and ran for the car park, Tesco tried to grab the shopping bag out of Dolly’s hands. He got a good grip on it, but Dolly wouldn’t let go. As he tried to accelerate away, she was pulled off her feet and, still holding on to the money, was dragged across the gravel behind the bike. With a snarl, Tesco kicked out at her, his foot connecting with her arm, and she lost her hold on the bag. Then he was gone, almost doing a wheelie as he screeched round the tree, out of the car park and down the road toward the cinema.

Harry was also on the move, aiming the car at the gap between the tree and the ditch. Bella was running alongside, trying to open the driver’s door, while keeping the gun aimed at Harry. The car bounced over a dip and Bella stumbled, let go of the car and dropped the gun.

Murphy still sat, watching to see where Harry was going and trying to decide what to do.

Shirley had now joined the other women, and the four of them made a circle round the still-moving Jaguar. Harry was heading toward the tree where Dolly was standing, her face picked out by the headlamps. She held her hand over her eyes, blinded by the glare. Linda was the one who realized what would happen. She ran up behind Dolly and, screaming at the top of her lungs, pushed her out of the way of the car as it lurched past.

As Dolly picked herself up, they all heard the siren as the patrol car hurtled up the road from the cinema toward the car park. That was enough for Murphy, who quickly left his parking spot and drove away in the same direction as Tesco.

Still surrounded by the running women, Harry maneuvered the car backward and forward, tires spinning on the gravel, and then crashed straight through the barrier on to the road and away, the patrol car flashing past him in the other direction.

Shirley screamed a warning to Dolly.

‘Police! Police!’

Dolly didn’t need telling twice. ‘Get out! All of you back to your cars! Move!’

Dolly and Bella made for the green Fiesta.

‘Where’s Linda?’ Dolly asked, her breath heaving. They could see the red Capri, the doors still open.

‘She’s there,’ Bella yelled. ‘Now come on, let’s go!’

The three cars all hurtled out of the car park just as the police approached the entrance. They sped off into the night, leaving the patrol car uncertain who to follow.

Dolly watched anxiously over her shoulder as Bella drove. ‘Linda... Has Linda made it?’

‘It’s all right, I saw her in the car,’ Bella told her. ‘The money, Dolly. Did you get the money?’

Dolly’s face was set, her mouth rigid. ‘Just drive, Bella. Just get us home.’

Murphy couldn’t get any sense out of Micky Tesco. He was so proud of his motorcycle antics, he kept looking at the money, saying, ‘We did it, by God we did it! You see that wheelie I did, over the ditch? Eddie Kidd, eat your heart out!’ Then he suddenly looked at Murphy. ‘Murphy, you shouldn’t be back ’ere. What you doin’ back ’ere?’

Harry entered the lock-up silently. ‘I’d like to know that, Murphy. What are you doin’ back here?’

Murphy looked at Harry, then at Micky. He knew he’d blown it. ‘It was the Old Bill, Harry.’

Harry nodded. ‘The Old Bill.’

‘They were there in a flash, Harry. Somebody must have tipped them off.’

‘Doesn’t mean you’ve gotta piss off! What a bloody cock-up!’ Harry shouted furiously.

Micky grinned, pointing at the money. ‘Come on, Harry. Does that look like it’s a cock-up?’

Harry glared at him. He felt like slapping his face. He jabbed his finger at Murphy.

‘I told you to stay on her, follow her. That’s all you had to do. She must have driven straight past you, and you blew it!’

Micky didn’t understand why he was so angry. ‘But we got the money, Harry!’

This time Harry did slap him, a quick, vicious swipe. Micky reeled back, and Harry looked at the money spilled across the floor.

‘That is a frigging piss in a frigging, fucking ocean.’

‘Better than a kick in the arse, though, isn’t it?’ Micky said sullenly, rubbing his cheek.

Murphy could see Harry was on the point of really losing it. ‘I panicked, Harry,’ he said, holding his hands up defensively. ‘It won’t happen again, honest.’

Harry looked at him almost in disgust. ‘Again? You think you’ve got the bottle for the jewel caper, do you?’ Again Harry prodded him. ‘Do you? You make me sick, the pair of you. Fuckin’ amateurs!’ Harry walked out, throwing instructions over his shoulder. ‘Lock the place up and stash the cash...’

Micky picked up Harry’s two suitcases and jogged after him. ‘I’ve got a great pad for you, Harry. Just you wait and see...’

Left on his own, Murphy looked at the bundles of banknotes spread over the floor. He got down on his hands and knees and started to pick them up.

‘You told her to get this?’ Dolly held out the gun, deliberately pointing it almost at Bella’s face.

‘It was for you. To protect you,’ Bella said sullenly.

‘Well, you certainly made a bloody mess of that, didn’t you?’ Dolly snapped.

She began pacing up and down the room, hands on hips. ‘I’ll give her hell when she gets here!’ Dolly looked down at the scrunched-up sheets of newspaper and old tights — stuffing for the dummy — scattered on the sofa. It suddenly dawned on her. ‘Oh God, it was the dummy!’

Bella looked puzzled.

‘You didn’t see Linda in her car — it was the dummy.’

Shirley and Bella looked at each other, dumbstruck, then back to Dolly. She was rubbing her head, trying to piece it all together.

‘Which one of you pushed me?’

They just stared at her.

‘Out of the way of... his car.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say his name. ‘Come on, which one of you was it?’

Bella and Shirley both shook their heads.

Dolly picked up the gun and slipped it into her coat pocket.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Bella.

‘I think we’d better get back up there. Shirley, you stay here in case she comes back.’

Shirley looked nervous. ‘But what shall I tell her? I mean, what should I do?’

‘Tell her she’s for it. Tell Linda she’s really for it this time.’

Micky was showing Harry round the flat he’d rented for a couple of weeks — well, not rented, borrowed. It was certainly much more Harry’s style, all very plush, with gold dolphin taps in the bathroom. Micky pointed to the bidet and picked up a bottle of Badedas.

‘You never know who you’ll meet...’ he drawled in a TV ad voice.

Sometimes Micky really got up his nose, but Harry couldn’t help smiling. He walked out of the bathroom and into the stunning lounge, with the brown-tinted mirrored walls and thick-pile carpets.

‘How long we got this place for?’

‘Few weeks. Friend of... a friend had a slight run-in with Her Majesty’s...’

Micky didn’t mention that it belonged to a coke dealer who’d been done for dealing and was serving six months. Flashy so-and-so, Italian feller. Micky knew Harry would really go for a flash place like this. Yeah, he thought to himself, he was beginning to suss Harry out.

‘Fancy a drop of chilled Chablis, Harry?’

Harry smiled, patting Micky on the shoulder. ‘I shouldn’t have sounded off like I did, Micky. You did a good job, and like you said, sixty grand is better than a kick in the arse.’

Micky grinned from ear to ear. Suddenly, him and Harry were friends.

The area round the oak tree in the car park had been sealed off with blue and white tape. There were two police cars in attendance, an ambulance and four other cars standing by. Already, great arc-lamps had been erected to illuminate the ditch and the surrounding area.

Linda’s car was also surrounded by red tape. Local residents in dressing gowns huddled outside the tape, watching the goings-on. A man with a coat over his pajamas wandered over.

‘It was a woman, but they wouldn’t let anyone look. Nobody can get close,’ he told them.

Two police officers were standing ankle-deep in the muddy ditch, pulling the body of a woman out of the filthy water. An ambulance crew was waiting with a stretcher at the edge of the ditch, and the police officers carefully passed the body over. It looked like a muddy, discarded rag doll.

Dolly and Bella stood with the group of watchers, frozen to the spot.

Dolly made a move toward the body on the stretcher, but Bella held her back. ‘Don’t, Dolly.’

Hanging on to each other, they watched as the ambulance crew covered the body with a red blanket.

‘She’s dead.’ Dolly’s voice was empty, expressionless.

More uniformed and plain-clothed officers clustered round the shape under the red blanket. It seemed so small and still in comparison with the milling bodies.

Bella couldn’t believe it. She kept staring at that little figure under the blanket, willing it to get up, sit up and say something — something silly, something funny, that this wasn’t true, this was just a nightmare, and she was going to wake up any minute.

Dolly had left the scene and was walking briskly up the street. Bella ran after her.

‘Dolly, Dolly, you can’t just walk away.’

Dolly kept going, her face white. Bella tried to stop her, pulling her back, but Dolly shook her off, walking stiffly as if under remote control, just saying, ‘Go back and tell Shirley.’

Bella stopped and saw them lifting the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. She started to cry. She looked to Dolly for help, but Dolly kept on walking.

Bella leaned against a tree and wept.

Over and over in Dolly’s mind, a voice was saying: ‘Be like ’aving a mum... Don’t leave me, Dolly... I want to stay with you, Dolly... Be like ’avin’ a mum... a mum...’

Her rage was like a train in a long, black tunnel. Then suddenly it burst out into the light and Dolly screamed, ‘You bastard, Harry! You bastard!’

Some of the little group of bystanders turned when they heard it, but they couldn’t make out what the woman was saying, and instead their attention was caught by Bella, who still stood weeping against the tree.

Then somebody said that they were bringing something out of the red Ford Capri. They all turned as the policeman held up Linda’s dummy, its feet dangling, its head nodding, still with its cap on.

It was 6:30 in the morning when Vic Morgan pulled up outside 44 Elgin Mansions to begin his round-the-clock watch on Harry Rawlins’ place. He poured himself a cup of coffee from a Thermos, and was settling in for a long, uneventful wait, when he saw someone walking up the road toward him, and almost dropped the coffee in his lap.

Dolly Rawlins. She seemed different, an odd, haunted look on her face, and she seemed to be walking in a daze. She stopped outside the entrance and just stood, staring up for a long time. Then, as if snapping out of a dream, she pushed through the swing doors and into the block. Morgan got out of the car and followed.

Dolly’s feet were like lead as she trudged up the staircase. She felt the gun in her pocket. The metal was icy cold.

Morgan moved soundlessly up the stairs behind her until she reached the door of number 44. He watched through the banister rails and heard the bell ringing through the empty flat. Dolly’s left hand was held to her side and that was when Morgan saw the gun.

She rang the bell again, and as it dawned on her that nobody was there, she seemed to deflate, leaning her head wearily against the door.

He moved quietly behind her. Very gently, he said, ‘Mrs. Rawlins, you all right, love?’

She didn’t seem surprised, just turned her face away, muttering, ‘No... no...’ under her breath.

She let him take the gun, let him hold her for a moment, then guide her down the stairs, and all the time he was talking to her, as if he was talking to a child. ‘That’s it, that’s a good girl, you lean on me, that’s a good girl. Now mind the stairs, easy does it, good girl. You all right now?’

Dolly rested her head against his shoulder, the fear and the anger all drained out of her, and for the first time since she could remember, she felt safe. Safe and at peace.

The chalk squeaked down the blackboard as the morgue attendant wrote the name ‘Linda Pirelli,’ checking the spelling against the file in his hand. He then walked past the rows of drawers until he found the one that had been pulled open and there she was — naked, her head and shoulders covered with terrible bruising.

He checked that the name tag was still attached to her right toe, and could feel that she was not yet cold. He slowly pushed the drawer back in.

He flipped a page, noting that this one was due for autopsy the following day. There were already brief notes from the doctor, who’d done the first examination, stating that the girl had not died from the injuries inflicted by some kind of vehicle but from drowning. She had been found face down in four inches of muddy water.

The attendant put the report on the desk. Another day, another body. He picked up the morning newspaper, turned to the back page with the sports headlines, and began to read.