Widows

Chapter 41

The queues at passport control in Rio airport were long. Dolly and Shirley stood in different lines and at no time so much as glanced at each other. The waiting had made some passengers irritable and tetchy, but when they complained, the Brazilian immigration officers delayed even further.

Dolly and Shirley made their separate ways to luggage collection, where some passengers were already wheeling and heaving their cases toward the customs control. The air conditioning made the vast room cold, the muzak was a repetitive heavy drumbeat Samba and, combined with the excited chatter of Brazilian passengers and a long flight, the whole experience was exhausting.

Shirley could just see Dolly’s blonde head above the group of passengers who pushed and shoved their way toward the luggage carousel. At the only exit was a row of trestle tables with a customs officer standing at either end and a further two officers standing by the exit doors. They were all armed and were watching the passengers like hawks. Shirley could feel the sweat begin to trickle down her forehead as she fought her way toward the carousel.

As she waited for her suitcases, Shirley glanced over to the trestle table, where a line of passengers was waiting to go through. Her heart lurched: every passenger’s case was being searched. Articles of clothing were strewn out across the whole length of the tables as passengers and customs officers argued loudly. Shirley pushed closer to Dolly and eventually squeezed in behind her. She whispered in Dolly’s ear, her voice hardly audible above the din.

‘They’re searching everyone. Don’t do it.’

Dolly didn’t turn round. ‘You know what to do — now get away from me.’

Up came one of their red suitcases, but they couldn’t see if it was the one with the red tag or blue tag. As they watched and waited for the case to get closer a hand came forward and dragged it off the carousel. Dolly was about to have a go, when Shirley kicked her foot.

Charles, rucksack on back, smiled at Shirley. ‘Your case I believe? Do you want me to carry it for you?’

‘No, I’m fine, thanks. I’ve got to wait for me other one anyway.’

He pressed closer toward her, his BO smelling much worse after the long flight. ‘I don’t mind waiting with you... I wondered if maybe we could have dinner, do some sightseeing or just stay in together?’

Shirley had to get rid of him. She turned on him and spoke softly but plainly. ‘No way... just piss off!’

Charles wasn’t expecting such a sudden rejection and, taking a step back, trod on a fat woman’s foot. She squealed and pushed him hard; he started to fall backward and as he turned to regain his balance, his rucksack hit another woman, who swore at him in Portuguese. Apologizing to everyone around him, he skulked off with his head held low.

Shirley turned to tell Dolly to leave the case. She wasn’t there, but the case was. Shirley couldn’t bring herself to pick it up; but then she noticed it was the case with the blue tag. While everyone was looking at Charles, Dolly had lifted the other red case off the carousel, swapped it with the money case and casually walked off.

Shirley’s mouth was dry, and her hands sweated. When she looked over to see Dolly in the queue by the trestle tables, the money case by her side, Shirley thought she’d faint. Dolly seemed so calm as she inched closer to the customs officer, kicking the money case along as she moved. Figuring that, as Dolly hadn’t lifted the money case up yet, she wasn’t next to be searched, Shirley turned back to the carousel to see if she could get her case — but it had just gone past her for the second time!

Charles’s rucksack was on the trestle table next to Dolly. Two officers were dealing with him, going over every nook and cranny of his clothing looking for drugs, before they decided to take him off for a strip search.

A customs officer pointed at Dolly and then her case. Trying hard not to show how heavy it was, she lifted it onto the table and laid it on its side, then quickly placed her small holdall on top and rested her hands on it. The officer stared at her, held his hand out and snapped his fingers.

‘Passport.’

She handed it over; he took a quick look and put it down beside him. ‘You’se have anythings to declares?’ he asked in broken English.

Dolly smiled sweetly and shook her head.

‘Any foods or plants wiz you?’ he asked, still staring.

‘No, but I do have a duty free bottle of gin and some cigarettes in my holdall. Do you want to see them?’

‘Yes... Tell me why you are here? Business or holiday?’ He seemed to be looking for any involuntary signs of nervousness.

‘Holiday,’ Dolly replied calmly as she slowly unzipped her holdall. Her head was spinning like mad and she was controlling every nerve in her body to keep herself from showing any sign, any twitch, any flicker of emotion that might make the officer more suspicious than he already was. She didn’t have a clue what was going on behind her or where Shirley was, but she wished to God she’d hurry up and put whatever distraction plan she’d decided on into action.

Shirley had now retrieved her cases and was standing in the queue waiting for customs. Looking over at Dolly, she saw the customs officer taking the booze and fags out of her holdall and then rummaging through the contents. He lifted the holdall off the case, handed it back to Dolly and started to turn the case round so the lock catches were facing him. Shirley knew it was now or never. She unzipped her handbag, put her hand inside and started screaming.

‘Help me! Oh, my God, help me! Someone’s stolen my passport!’ She rummaged round her handbag, tipping it sideways so the contents fell to the ground. ‘It’s not here, it’s not here! I’ve been robbed. I’ve been robbed.’

Everything came to a standstill and all eyes were on Shirley. The two officers at the exit door stepped forward to see what the rumpus was, the man behind Dolly threw up his arms in despair, then started shouting something in Portuguese and pointing at his wrist watch. The officer dealing with Dolly told him to be quiet, but he wouldn’t let it go and even Dolly knew what he meant when he called the officer idiota.

The officer, now very angry, handed Dolly her passport, pushed her case to one side and signaled for her to get out of the way. He then turned to the man behind her and slammed his hand on the table.

Dolly slid her suitcase off the table. It was over. All eyes were still on Shirley, further back in the queue, who was still screaming while on her knees, frantically looking through her strewn handbag contents. Dolly melted into the crowd and slowly walked through the automatic exit doors.

It was not until the doors closed behind Dolly that Shirley waved her passport above her head, indicating she’d found it. The customs officers took her off to a room, with her suitcases, to speak to her. Now that Dolly had got through, Shirley didn’t feel nervous: she had nothing to hide or declare in either of her cases.

Unbeknownst to Shirley, Charles was being spoken to in the next-door cubicle about the commotion he had caused by the luggage carousel. He was in tears as he explained that at Heathrow he’d helped a lady with an overweight case by saying it was his and then offered to carry it for her after landing in Rio. He had been hoping to get his leg over and was very disturbed by her sudden rejection.

One of the officers who had spoken to Charles came in to join the two who were questioning Shirley. He spoke good enough English to report what Charles had said. ‘I’m ever so sorry,’ Shirley said, with a little pout. ‘I didn’t have enough to pay the luggage excess, so I’m afraid I was a bit naughty. It was a silly thing to do and I am ever so sorry. It wasn’t my idea to lie though — that man said it was perfectly OK and no one would mind really. Was that wrong? Oh—’ Shirley exclaimed, getting into full dumb-blonde mode — ‘do you think he had other ideas?’

An officer told her to wait and he left the room. Shirley was now beginning to feel nervous, as she had thought that she’d be free to go by now. The officer returned a few minutes later, sat down opposite her at the table and glared into her wide blue eyes.

‘Why you tell the young man you do a shoot for a magazine in Rio?’

‘I lied,’ she said, bowing her head to pretend she was ashamed, but also to hide her nerves. ‘I sort of fancied him and wanted to impress him and—’

The officer banged the table, making Shirley jump. ‘Then why you tell him piss off when you land in Rio?’

Shirley leaned forward confidentially. ‘Well, on the plane he was sitting next to me and I could smell how bad his body odor was. When he approached me in the luggage collection area it was awful! I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, but I had to be honest.’

The customs officers all burst out laughing.

‘He does smell bad!’ said one of them. ‘Especially in a small interview room! Off you go, missy.’ Opening the door for her, he ushered her out.

Alice found Resnick in a side room off the main hospital ward. He made a surprisingly small figure on the high bed, motionless, hooked up to a drip, his face so puffy and bruised he was barely recognizable. As she went over to him, she noticed his false teeth lying in a saucer on the locker and had to suppress a sob. Drawing up a chair as close as she could to the bed, she settled down to wait.

On her way to the hotel, Shirley looked out of the taxi window as Rio whizzed by, and thought of Terry. She had never known such an exhilarating feeling before. It was over, all over and she was free — free to do what she wanted, be what she wanted. She was rich. Very rich. She so wished that she could share this part of her life with the man she had loved. This was his dream too — well, maybe not Rio exactly, he was more of an East End boy — but being able to do anything they wanted. Shirley could hardly believe where she was and she certainly couldn’t believe how she’d got here. She couldn’t wait to see Linda and Bella again, she had so much to tell them.

For the first couple of minutes, there were no words, just squeals of joy, laughter, lots of hugging and lots of tears. Shirley had never been held so tight: it was as if they never wanted to let her out of their sight again. Although she had pictured Linda and Bella having loads of fun by a heated pool, they had pictured her in a police interview room being leaned on by some unscrupulous copper. They were incredibly relieved to be back together.

Hours later and the chatter was still in full flow, as was the champagne. The suite looked more like a Harrods’ sale room, with boxes of beautiful designer gowns and dresses everywhere. The three young women were like excited children racing around, whooping and dancing in the small hours, champagne corks popping.

Next door, Dolly lay in the bath. She could hear the girls shouting and laughing and was glad they were happy. She had arrived about half an hour after Shirley, but her reception had been more reserved. Dolly wished she could evoke emotion, in herself and in others, but she’d always been so tightly wound she didn’t know how to express herself. I think they know how fabulous I think they are, she thought as she lit another cigarette and sipped on her champagne. They must know how proud I am of them? When Dolly had divvied up the £120,000 from her suitcase, the girls’ eyes had almost popped from their heads.

Dolly looked at the cigarette between her wrinkled fingers. She’d been in the bath long enough for the water to be only just lukewarm now, but she didn’t care. As the tension seeped from every muscle in her body, she didn’t care about anything. Dolly closed her eyes.

‘Come on, Dolly!’ Linda shouted from the living room.

Dolly smiled. How she’d missed those dulcet tones. A cork popped and the girls shrieked as though it was the first of the day, even though it must have been the fourth. Touching the soft, fluffy soap suds, she was reminded of Wolf. She felt sick and then, as she tried to get up, she felt dizzy and slid back into the bath, the cigarette dropping from her fingers. As Dolly watched it disappear beneath the water, she wanted to cry. Her emotions were so close to the surface but they refused to come out. Whether her sadness was for Wolf, Harry or herself, she wasn’t certain — but, naked and alone, she felt so incredibly vulnerable.

Nearly 6,000 miles away, holed up in his stinking lock-up with only the vicious Alsatian for company, Harry Rawlins felt equally vulnerable, but for very different reasons. He had never felt so powerless or so alone. He was a dead man: he couldn’t surface, he couldn’t touch the cash in any of his bank accounts, he couldn’t even go home. He’d have to leave the country, but he didn’t know how long he would have to wait before he could do that safely. Dolly... he clenched his fists at the thought of her. Years ago, he had wept with her for their stillborn son. He had betrayed her — but she had beaten him at his own treacherous game.

But it wasn’t over, no, not by any means. No one beat Harry Rawlins.

Shirley was in the bedroom looking at herself in the long mirror, wondering if she should have put on the blue dress. No, she thought, the silver one is perfect. She stepped back to admire her slender body. Boy, do I look good... In fact, more than good — I look absolutely beautiful.

Bella walked in through the adjoining bedroom door. She shimmered, draped from head to toe in a black sequin dress. ‘Nice bum!’ she commented to Shirley and they both laughed. She shouted to Dolly to come out and join the party.

‘Come on, Dolly!’ Shirley added. ‘We’re all waiting for you!’

Shirley’s money was in bundles on the coffee table. Linda’s was piled in her lap and she was singing at the top of her voice. Bella’s money was thrown, carelessly, on an elegant armchair. She sang along with Linda, belting out their own dodgy version of ‘My Way.’ Shirley swirled round the room, loving the feel of her dress as it spun out and showed her knickers. Bella, not to be outdone, went into a Shirley Bassey stance and began singing ‘Goldfinger’ over the top of Linda. The atmosphere was electric as the girls let loose, without a care in the world.

Shirley gulped more champagne, lit a cigarette and began parading up and down the room as if she was on a catwalk. Linda stood up with a hairbrush in her hand and pretended it was a microphone.

‘An’ now we have Miss Shirley Miller! And what are your hobbies, Miss Miller?’

‘Well, I likes children and ROBBIN’ BANKS!’ Shirley shrieked as she threw a wad of her money into the air.

Dolly knotted the dressing gown round her waist, wiped the steamy mirror clear, and stared at her face. Her wet hair hung down like rats’ tails. She looked — and felt — haggard and old. She pressed her forehead against the cold mirror. The tears wouldn’t come now. That it? she thought to herself. Crying done. All dried up and sealed back inside.

Linda helped herself to some caviar from the room service trolley and fingered Dolly’s pile of notes, which were in her small holdall on the sofa. Dolly had explained that she’d split the money equally, and that the rest was hidden in the convent. She’d also explained that she’d taken back £5000 from each of them to cover all their up-front expenses. Everyone had been more than happy with the deal, but something else was now on Linda’s mind. She stood close beside Bella.

‘Shall I tell Shirley about the phone call?’ she whispered.

Bella spun round and gave Linda a dirty look. ‘No. Just forget it. You don’t know it was him for a fact. You agreed you must have been mistaken, so forget it.’

Shirley poured herself another glass of champagne. ‘What were ya both talking about?’

Linda gave Bella a quick look, then sat on the sofa. ‘I put a call into London, to Dolly’s house. I know we weren’t supposed to, but, well, I did cos I was worried about you.’

Shirley shrugged her shoulders. ‘Dolly never said anything to me.’

Linda looked down. ‘Dolly never answered. Harry did.’ Before Shirley could speak, Linda carried on, ‘I know it was him. It was Harry.’

Bella poured herself a drink. ‘I’m not arguing with you, sugar, we’ve been over it a dozen times already.’

Shirley couldn’t take in what Linda had just said. She looked toward the bedroom. ‘Are you sure? Are you sure it was him, Linda?’

‘He was the only one who ever called her “Doll.”’ Linda was getting uptight. ‘The man said, “Is that you, Doll?” It had to be him. He used to call for Joe and his voice sounded the same. I’m tellin’ you — Harry Rawlins is alive.’

They sat in silence, looking at each other. Was Harry alive and, more importantly, did Dolly know all along? Shirley was the first to break the silence. She told them everything: Harry’s shredded clothes in the wardrobe, Eddie watching the house day and night, Eddie breaking in and killing Wolf, Eddie beating her up. She leapt to her feet as if she’d had a sudden revelation: ‘I knew it! Well, actually, I thought she might be shacking up with Eddie, but Harry makes much more sense. So, she never lost him.’

Linda was on her feet in a split second, her face tight and ugly. She kicked the money case. ‘This is a kiss off! To keep us sweet. And who do you think’s getting the rest? Eh? Harry will be emptying them convent lockers as we speak... if the rest of the money was ever there in the first place.’

Bella put her glass down and stood up too. ‘Just take it easy. We don’t know if any of that’s true. We don’t even know if he’s really alive; I mean, if he is, why would she come here?’

None of them heard Dolly come out of the bathroom.

She was dressed in a hotel dressing gown that was at least two sizes too large for her and she looked like someone’s old grandma. They didn’t know if she’d heard what they had said, but she said nothing. She just went to the money case and started to move all of Harry’s clothes into a hotel laundry bag.

The girls looked to each other and Bella gave Linda the nod.

‘I put a call into London this morning, Dolly, to your place.’ Linda started cautiously.

Dolly appeared not to hear. She just opened her own case and, rummaging through, held up a gray dress. ‘I could wear this. Won’t be as dressy as you lot, but I could wear this. Or I’ve got a cocktail dress, I think I put it in here somewhere.’

‘Is Harry alive?’ Linda asked.

Dolly lifted out her cocktail dress, held it against her body. ‘What do you think?’

Linda stepped forward and snatched the dress from her hands. ‘Harry answered the phone. He’s alive, ain’t he?’

Dolly’s eyes glazed over. She had no fight left and no will to go on. She felt as if someone had kicked her hard in the pit of her stomach. The burning feeling began to spread outward and upward, engulfing her entire body, but when she spoke her voice was calm. ‘If you say so, Linda,’ she said, still with her back to them all.

‘I do say so, Dolly. And you know he is.’ Linda asked the question on all of their lips. ‘What about the rest of the money? What you really done with it? Harry got that now, has he?’

Dolly was burning up, her mouth incredibly dry. She swallowed hard. ‘You think I’m working with Harry? You think I knew?’ she said, still not turning to face them.

Bella held Linda back as she tried to grab Dolly’s arm. ‘We just need to know what’s going on, Dolly,’ she said calmly.

Dolly turned and looked at each girl one by one. She was trembling as she moved over to the drinks trolley. She put out a hand to reach for the bottle and her hand shook so much she couldn’t lift it. Then her whole body started to shake uncontrollably.

‘Is he alive, Dolly?’ Linda persisted. Dolly was shaking like a frail old lady. Bella and Shirley looked at each other, worried that something was terribly wrong.

The sudden, frightening explosion of emotional anger took them all by surprise. Over went the drinks trolley, glasses, food, anything Dolly could lay her hands on she hurled across the room. She grabbed her holdall, pulled handfuls of her money out and flung it at the three women. Her voice was like a low growl to begin with; then it got louder and louder as she snarled like a mad dog over and over: ‘YES, YES, YES, YES, YES!’

The girls stood huddled together. They’d never seen Dolly like this before — they’d never seen anyone like this before! They had no idea what to do, how to help, how to comfort, how to make the pain she was in go away.

When Dolly had nothing left to throw, her face twisted and she began pulling at the dressing gown, trying to rip it with her nails. Her head shook backward and forward as she glowered at them like a rabid animal. It was a terrifying thing to watch. She pulled the dressing gown off her shoulders and began to scratch at her bare arms. Deep red welts appeared and her voice rose higher and higher. ‘You want to know what it felt like?’ Dolly yelled. ‘What it felt like to find out? It was like a raging fire inside me. It’s still inside me: he’s inside me... out, get him out of me, dear God get him out!’

Dolly’s scratched her arms deeper and harder until the blood ran down to her fingers.

Linda’s eyes almost popped out of her head, Shirley’s face began to pucker like a frightened child, but it was Bella who took action. Linda thought she was going to slap Dolly out of her hysteria, but she grabbed her in a bear hug and held her as tight as she could. Dolly struggled, her arms pinned at her sides by Bella’s huge strength. Dolly sobbed in Bella’s arms and, as she loosened her grip, Dolly slid to the floor and landed on her knees.

No one knew what to do.

The tears Dolly had wanted to cry for so long finally came in floods. She wept as she had never done before. She had wept for Harry many times, but these awful wrenching sobs were different, and although the pain was excruciating, they were a welcome release.

Hardly able to stand it, Shirley stepped forward to comfort Dolly, but Bella stopped her. Dolly had to let it all go, because keeping it all inside was killing her. The sobbing went on and on and on until finally Dolly was so exhausted that she had nothing left. Helping her to her feet, Bella gently held her again, rocking Dolly back and forth and whispering to her that it was all right. It was all right now. It was all over.

None of them could believe that this was the strong-minded woman they had fought and argued with for months and months. Linda felt so guilty she couldn’t look at Dolly and just sat clenching and unclenching her hands. Shirley lit a cigarette, bent down and held it out to Dolly, but she was too exhausted even to lift her hand to take it. Shirley held it to her lips and Dolly drew on the hot smoke, pulling at the cigarette like a baby with a dummy, filling her lungs and slowly letting the smoke drift out.

The tears rolled down Dolly’s face, but she made no effort to wipe them away. She tried to stand, but was too weak, so Bella guided her to a chair. Dolly sat motionless, the front of her dressing gown wet with tears and the sleeve wet with blood.

The girls waited.

Eventually Dolly spoke. Her speech was a stream of disjointed thoughts as she tried to piece it all together.

‘I suspected when I went to Jimmy Nunn’s place... but not for certain... and... I didn’t want to believe it was possible... I thought I’d buried him, but it was Jimmy Nunn. I buried Jimmy Nunn... I cried for Jimmy Nunn... Harry must have been driving the front van... I’m so sorry. He was the fourth man and I’m so very, very sorry for what happened to your fellas.’

‘But Harry’s watch. Was Jimmy wearing it?’ Linda asked sincerely.

Dolly shook her head. ‘Only Harry knows...’

She held out her hand for another cigarette and Shirley handed one to her. Dolly sat and smoked in silence. Then her face suddenly twisted, her body shaking as she spoke. ‘The way that Trudie looked at me when I introduced meself! It was as if I was a piece of dirt. I think he was there. Hiding. Wolf knew, I think. Wolf could smell his dad in that grubby little dump of a flat. Just like he smelt him in the lock-up.’ Dolly held her head in her hands in disbelief. ‘I loved him so much. He was my life, I loved him from the first moment I saw him.’ She took a moment to try and calm herself. ‘Even when I pieced it together, I still — I still wanted him back.’ She lowered her head with shame. ‘I still loved him then, I wanted to be with him, but I couldn’t tell you, I couldn’t tell you that. I was too ashamed.’ Dolly wiped her nose with the sleeve of her dressing gown and looked up at the girls. ‘I wouldn’t have let him touch your money,’ she said. ‘He would have had to kill me first.’

Dolly stood up, tall and straight. She tightened her dressing gown belt and ran her hands through her hair. She was a fighter: she always had been and there was still plenty of fight left in her.

‘I’ve left him nothing,’ she told them. ‘No money, no ledgers, nothing, not even a roof over his head. I’ve sold the house and everything in it from under him. On paper he’s dead, so there’s nothing he can do about it. All he can do now is go on the run. And keep running.’

Bella put up her hand as if she’d heard enough. ‘Take it easy, Dolly, you don’t know for certain he’s alive — none of us do. But even if he is, why sell everything so quickly and leave yourself with nowhere to live?’

Dolly smiled and calm spread over her face.

‘What are you going to do, Dolly?’ Shirley asked.

‘Buy twenty years of my life back.’ She walked toward the bedroom.

‘That’s it, Dolly. You have a lie down,’ Linda said.

Dolly turned, her hands spread against the bedroom doorframe as she regained her strength. ‘I’m not tired. I’m going to get a new face, a new body even. They can do wonders nowadays, and God knows I’m rich enough. I’ll buy youth with my share, and I’ll soon look as good as any one of you.’

She stared at them, swaying slightly, then turned and walked into the bedroom. She needed to be alone.

Bella recalled Dolly that day at the beach when they were rehearsing the robbery. She remembered the way Dolly had punished herself, desperate to be as good as them, putting on a show of bravado that she was as fit as they were. Bella knew she was acting her socks off then, just as she was now, and she was damned good at hiding her true feelings: she was feeling old and out of place. Looking at Shirley and Linda, Bella saw they were taken in by the act and believed Dolly was going to have a facelift.

Shirley followed Dolly. ‘Come on. Get into your nice dress! The table’s waiting — best club in Rio.’

Dolly stopped for a second, braced herself and turned to Shirley. ‘I’m going to stay here, but you go. Enjoy yourselves. I’ve got a new life to plan.’

Bella picked up the cocktail dress, a few others from Dolly’s case and some more that Linda and Shirley had bought. She walked into the bedroom, placed the dresses on the bed and stood with her hands on her hips. ‘We ain’t takin’ no for an answer, darlin’,’ she said to Dolly. ‘So, get out of that oversized dressing gown and slip into one of these.’

Dolly looked at Bella and Bella could see the longing to be young again in her eyes. ‘Your new life starts right here, right now, Dolly,’ she whispered. ‘It don’t take no planning.’ Then she spoke louder so that Linda and Shirley could hear her. ‘Linda’ll do your hair.’

Linda raced to the bedside drawer and pulled out a hair dryer. ‘I do a cracking blow job!’ she announced. As the girls laughed, a smile crept over Dolly’s face.

Bella chipped in again. ‘And to round it off, Shirley, our very own professional model and catwalk star, will do your make-up. By the time we’ve finished, you’ll look twenty years younger.’

Shirley pulled Dolly over to the dressing table, while Linda ran to her bedroom and got her heated rollers. Dolly had a childlike look on her face as she sat in front of the mirror: Cinderella about to go to the ball.

‘What you want — the silver lamé or the sequins?’ Bella asked as she picked up two evening gowns from the bed.

Dolly looked at her through the mirror. ‘Be a bit of a mutton in that, won’t I?’

Bella laughed and chucked the lamé to one side. ‘The sequins will be just fine!’ She caught Dolly’s eye in the mirror and gave her a wink, but looked away as she saw Dolly’s mouth begin to tremble. She didn’t want to set her off again. Dolly had done the emotional abandon bit... now she needed to get pissed and let her hair down.

As Linda began blow-drying Dolly’s wet, matted hair, she didn’t even realize that she was lightly squeezing and affectionately stroking Dolly’s shoulder with her thumb. But Dolly knew. It was the first time Linda had ever shown any real sign of friendship and Dolly felt so moved that she couldn’t help but touch Linda’s hand. Linda closed her fingers around Dolly’s and, looking in the mirror at their reflections, Dolly could see the guilt in the younger woman’s eyes. ‘Leave it all behind, eh, Linda?’ Dolly said quietly. ‘All the cold, and the rain, and the mistakes.’ This was Linda’s pardon from Dolly — and Linda accepted it with a smile. There was, at long last, an understanding among them all.

The room gradually filled with laughter and chitchat about hairstyles, dresses and make-up. Dolly felt loved in this moment and, whether it lasted or not, she was going to enjoy every second of it. Their friendship warmed her, strengthened her and made her feel wanted. For now, she was one of the girls, but unlike Shirley and Linda, Dolly was not a widow. Not anymore. And she would never forget what Harry Rawlins had put her though.

One day she’d see him again. One day he’d have to face her.

Harry was still alive and she would find him. Wherever he might be.