Angela was lying curled on her side, a sodden piece of tissue in her hand. She had cried herself into exhaustion. She didn’t look up when the door opened, thinking it would be a nurse. She knew it couldn’t be her mother—she hadn’t called her. She felt so sick and sad; she had never meant to hurt the baby but now it was too late. She was no longer pregnant; she had miscarried early that morning.
“There’s grapes and some clothes to change into.”
Angela recognized Dolly’s voice but was afraid to look at her so she just curled up tighter.
“I know you lost the baby, Angela, and I’m sorry, sorry for what you’ve done to yourself.” Dolly laid out the things she had brought. She stood near to the bed, but not close enough to touch Angela. “It won’t seem like it now, but maybe it’s for the best.”
“You’d know, would you?” came the muffled reply.
“No, I don’t really know at all. I ached for a baby, Angela, all my married life, so no, I wouldn’t know what it feels like to lose one.”
Angela sobbed. Dolly was so cold and hard and she so badly needed someone to put their arms around her. “Please be nice to me, Dolly, please.” Angela turned and held out her hand to Dolly.
“Come to the house and . . .”
“Can I stay? I’ll cook and clean for you.”
“. . . pack the rest of your things. That’s all I came to tell you. You have to leave but we’ll keep your things safe until they release you from here. And you should eat those grapes, almost eighty pence a pound.”
The door closed behind her and Angela fell back onto her pillow. She wished she’d killed herself properly, wished she had never woken up because she had nothing to live for, and no place to go.
Dolly walked into the kitchen through the back door, the smell of burning bacon making her wrinkle her nose.
“Oh, sorry, Dolly, it’s me. I can never get the hang of this Aga. I dunno whether to put stuff in the oven or stick it on the top there.” Connie shoveled charred bits of bacon onto a piece of paper towel, dabbing the fat off it.
“I been in to see Angela. She lost the baby.”
“Julia told me. She’s just bathing the girls—they’ve had their breakfast.”
Ester appeared. “Serves the little cow right. Any breakfast going?”
They came in in dribs and drabs but no one seemed inclined to start up a conversation about the proposed robbery. “You all got boots, jeans to ride in?” Dolly suddenly asked.
Gloria looked down at her wellingtons. Julia arrived with the three children, who hung back shyly at the door. Seeing her, Gloria asked, “Will these do?”
Julia shook her head. “No, but there’s no point in wasting good money if you’re only going to go once. Might as well wait and see, right, Dolly?”
Dolly was eating scrambled eggs and burnt toast. “I’ll need to borrow a pair of trousers. You girls are going to be left alone just for a while, but I got some things for you to do.” They were sitting at the big kitchen table as Dolly laid out drawing pads, crayons and picture books. “Now you be good, stay put in here and wait until we get back. Don’t leave the house, and I’ll know if you do because I’m gonna ask the builders to check on you.”
“They not comin’ today,” piped up little Sheena.
Dolly patted her head. “Ah, you don’t know, they come and they go. Just be good girls and watch the clock. When the big hand gets to—”
“I can tell the time,” said Kate, one of the twins.
“Good, then you stay put for two hours in here and I don’t want to have to tell you again!” Dolly was trying her best but she wasn’t used to handling little kids, as well as a houseful of adult ones.
Julia fitted her out in an old pair of her jeans which were too tight and the flies were gaping, but as Julia said, why waste money? They piled into Gloria’s Mini, all five of them, and headed for the local stables.
“I see they bleedin’ downed tools again,” Gloria said as they drove out of the manor.
“They’ll pick them up again as soon as they get paid,” Dolly replied.
“I thought our Connie was supposed to be keeping him happy,” Gloria sniggered.
“I’m already workin’ on him and the bloke in the signal box. I don’t intend to get through all the ruddy workmen, too. You do it.”
“Don’t mind if I fuckin’ do!” Gloria hooted.
Dolly closed her eyes. “I wish you’d watch your mouth, Gloria, now we got the girls living in. And that goes for us all. Cut down on the swearing.”
“Well, excuuuuuse me for livin’. I can’t help bein’ the way I am, it’s called frustration. I see her getting her leg over at every opportunity and—”
“Shut up!” roared Dolly.
“It’s the truth! I’ve not had a good seeing-to in years and it’s not for want of trying, lemme tell you.” Dolly knew it was pointless attempting to change Gloria. “Mind you, this horse ridin’, they say it gives you a climax, did you know that, Dolly? I’m lookin’ forward to it.”
When they got to the riding school Sandy, a young stable girl with a high-pitched Sloane Ranger voice, began to bring out the horses, all shapes and sizes, as her assistant saddled them up. Julia began sorting through hard hats, which were compulsory, and they switched them round and tried them all on. Sandy kept on taking sly looks at the group of women and couldn’t help tittering as they appeared to be first-timers, apart from Julia. Just getting them mounted took considerable time, and when Julia left they all looked petrified, including Dolly. When her horse suddenly bent his head to eat some grass, she almost came off with a high-pitched “Help!”
They had a two-hour lesson and at the end of it they could all mount and dismount, knew how to use the reins, and had been led up and down the field. Gloria wandered into the stables, beaming from ear to ear as if she had just won the Grand National.
“It’s quite easy really, isn’t it?”
Sandy smiled. “Yes, if you’re a natural.”
“You think I am, then?”
“We’ll see. You haven’t really been riding yet.”
“Course I have. We been round the field ten times.”
“There’s more to it than that, Gloria.”
By lunchtime none of them could walk. Their thighs were on fire, and everyone was moaning. But Dolly had booked them in for another lesson in a second stable twenty miles away, so reluctantly they squeezed into the Mini again.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, you know, Dolly,” Gloria gasped. “I mean, I’m knackered after just two hours—and my legs! I think I’ve done myself some serious damage.”
Julia waved them off and decided to take the little girls out for a walk, but before she could set off, Big John arrived and said he needed to speak to Mrs. Rawlins. Julia told him she was not at home but asked if she could help. “Well, it’s just that she’s supposed to pay me the second installment. We’re behind now, and she did say today. I’ve got the lads on another job until she pays, but this scaffolding needs finishing and we got all that cement ordered and the sand.”
“I’ll tell her to give you a ring.”
He looked unconvinced. “This was a cash deal and she’s put me in a very difficult position.”
“She’ll call you,” Julia insisted.
He hung about a moment, then asked, “Connie here, is she?”
“She’s out.”
He returned to his truck; he was determined that until he saw the color of Mrs. Rawlins’s money he was not going to finish anything off or order another bag of cement. The reality was that he had been so desperate to get his firm off the ground that he’d stretched himself to the limit. He had a nasty feeling that his inexperience was going to teach him a hard lesson.
The afternoon riding session brought grave doubts that any one of them would ever be let off a leading-rein. Out of the four Connie was the best and the most confident, Gloria the worst. She yelled and shouted abuse to the embarrassment of the others and the prim stable girls. When they returned to the manor, Dolly was certain she would have to think about another way.
She made the children their tea, then sat with them and read them a story. For half an hour Dolly lost herself in the story and in the warmth of the three little girls. They were gradually becoming less fearful and more open. Dolly constantly repeated that the manor was their home, and no one could take it away from them; their mummy knew where to write to them and when she was back she would know where to find them. That was why she had brought them here.
Early next day Dolly drove into the village, toured the second-hand shops, and returned laden with hacking-jackets, jodhpurs, second-hand riding boots and two men’s riding coats. Some of the clothes were in good condition, some not so good, so she laid them all out, choosing the best for herself. That morning the lesson was booked for ten and, creaking in agony, the women argued and fought over each item like ten-year-olds. Gloria stuffed two pairs of thick woolen socks inside a pair of men’s riding boots as they were far too large; before Gloria could grab them Connie squeezed into a pair that were too small but highly polished. They didn’t look any more professional—on the contrary, they were like something out of a Thelwell cartoon and their riding was no better.
Sandy the stable girl led them all into the field connected to the stables and they proceeded to learn how to trot with gritted teeth and loud moans.
Julia remained at the house with the children, cooking breakfast and taking them on a ramble around the grounds. They shrieked with excitement when she brought out Helen of Troy and they each had a turn at being led round the yard. None of them had been in the country before or ridden a horse, and their excitement touched Julia. As a child she had wanted for nothing, she even had her own pony, and it made her realize just how wonderful a place the manor could be for kids like Kathleen’s.
It was early afternoon by the time everyone had cleaned themselves up, and the washing machine creaked under the weight of all their dirty clothes. The boots were lined up and the little girls given the task of cleaning them for fifty pence a pair. Soon Sheena seemed to be getting more boot polish on herself than on the boots, but, seeing they were happy, Dolly said nothing and called all the women into the office.
They stood around, waiting, as Dolly closed the door and crossed to her desk. She picked up a small black notebook and sat down. “Right, it’s obvious we’re gonna need two lessons a day.”
Gloria leaned on the desk. “I got to be honest, Doll, I’m not cut out for this riding business. It’s me size, you see. Being small I can’t get me legs round the horse.”
Dolly frowned. “We’ll get you a small horse, then.”
Gloria pulled a face. “You’re payin’.”
“Yeah, I am paying for everything, so shut up and listen, all of you.”
Julia stood by the window. “The builder was here, Dolly. You know he’s got a delivery of bathroom equipment arriving and he’s a bit sore. He could start causing trouble.”
Dolly moistened her lips. “Yes, I know. We’ll start with him.”
Dolly pointed at Connie and told her to keep Big John happy, to see him as much as possible and give him five grand that evening.
Gloria pouted. “All right for some. I wouldn’t mind keeping him happy—got a nice arse.”
No one paid her any attention; they were listening to Dolly as she described the old cesspit half a mile from the house. “I need to get it cleared, see how deep it is, so this afternoon, Gloria and Julia, that’s your job.”
“Oh, great! I just got meself cleaned up,” moaned Gloria, but no one took any notice.
“Connie, when you see John, I want you to order through his firm, without him knowing, about twenty kilo-bags of lime.”
“Why? What do we need them for?” Connie asked.
“To fill the pit,” Dolly said patiently.
She jabbed a finger at Ester. “You have an assignment. I want you to find out just how tough it is to unhitch a train carriage.”
“Oh, sure,” Ester said, smiling as if it was as simple as buying groceries.
“I’m serious. The mail carriage is in the center of the train, it’s an ordinary carriage. I want to know how you can unhitch it.”
“How the fuck do I find that out?”
“You’ve got a big mouth, Ester. Use it. Off the top of my head you can go to the railway museums, chat up a guard, not at the local station—any way you think—but I need to know if it’s done manually or—”
“Fine, I’ll do it,” Ester said.
Dolly made a tick in the notebook, turning a page. “Tonight, Connie, you go and see your boyfriend in the signal box. This time you find out the layout, how many alarms there are, how long it takes to get the law to the station.”
“You must be joking,” muttered Connie.
“No, love, I’m not. We have to know exactly what goes down when that mail train arrives, what he does, what—”
Connie broke in, “How do I do that?”
“Find a way, love.”
“Well, one minute you’re telling me to be with the builder, then the signal-box guy. I can’t do both of them.”
“Yes, you can,” Dolly snapped, and then looked at them all. “You have to do just what I tell you or this is finished before it’s started. I don’t want any arguments.”
“Can we ask what exactly you’re planning?” Ester leaned forward.
Dolly closed her book and stood up. “I’m going to London so I’ll need the car. I don’t want the kids left alone so one of you bath them, feed them and put them to bed. I might be late.”
She walked out and they watched her go, no one saying a word until the door latched. “She’s nuts, you do know that, don’t you?” Ester said angrily.
“But you’re still here,” remarked Julia tartly.
“Yeah, but not for long if she carries on like this. We got a right to know what she’s doing.”
Gloria heaved herself out of the chair. “Well, like she’s always saying, she’s paying, so let’s get on with it. I mean, I’ll do your job if you wanna do the cesspit.”
There was no way Ester was going to dig shit. She was still in agony from the ride. “I can’t. I’m injured.”
“Well then, we just do what the boss says,” Gloria sighed.
Connie said, “Okay, but I’ll never be able to get that information, you know. I’m not supposed to even be in the signal box.”
“Take him a bottle of wine,” Julia said, and stroked Connie’s shoulder. “One for the builder as well.” Connie shrugged her away.
“Right, let’s get on with it,” Julia said, and one by one they went to do their allocated jobs.
Angela left the hospital, caught a bus and then made her way down the lane to the manor. No one was in sight so she pushed open the front door.
“Hello? Anyone home?”
Ester appeared on the stairs and glared at her. “Just stay put, no need to come in.”
“I’ve come for my gear.”
Ester disappeared along the landing. The three girls peeped out from the kitchen.
“They’re Kathleen O’Reilly’s kids,” Ester called down.
Angela smiled. “Hello.”
“Hello,” said Sheena.
“How ya all doing?”
Before they could reply, Ester returned with a suitcase which she practically hurled down the stairs. “There’s your gear. Piss off and don’t come back.”
Angela was near to tears as she picked up her case. “I got no money.”
“My heart bleeds. Go on, get out.”
Angela walked back down the drive, dragging the suitcase, sniffing back the tears. She didn’t see Gloria and Julia way in the distance, digging and clearing the cesspit. Both wore thick scarves round their faces to combat the awful stench. They heaved bucketload after bucketload, chucking it into a wheelbarrow.
“This is making me sick,” said Gloria, retching.
Julia heaved up the wheelbarrow. “Keep at it. We’ve only cleared a quarter of it.”
“It’s not on, you know. This could give us a disease, it’s disgusting. I mean, this is—this is old shit, you know that, don’t you?”
Julia paid no attention as she wheeled the thick, stinking mud over to a pile of old bits of furniture and junk. She tipped out the barrow and stood away from the noxious fumes. She turned back as Gloria peered down into the pit.
“Now what? I can’t reach in any further with the bucket,” she yelled.
“We’ll have to get down into it, then,” Julia said.
“I’m not gettin’ in there,” shrieked Gloria.
“Well, one of us has to. We’ll toss for it.” Julia picked up a rake and asked whether Gloria wanted the rake or flat side. Gloria bellowed she wanted the rake side. Julia tossed the rake into the air and it came down flat side.
“You bloody did that on purpose,” Gloria yelled. She looked down into the pit again and back to Julia. “I got an idea. Why don’t we get the kids to do it?”
Connie breezed into Big John’s yard. He was sitting on the steps of his little hut.
“Hi, how are you?” She beamed as she walked over.
He didn’t return her smile. “Look, Connie, this has got nothing to do with you but that Mrs. Rawlins is making me bankrupt.”
Connie sat next to him and passed over the envelope. “Here you go, and there’s more coming in a day or two.”
John opened the envelope and then stood up. “I’d better go and divvy this up with the men.”
“Oh, right now?”
He looked into her upturned face. “I got to. When they finish the job they’re on, they’ll be on their way. If you want that roof done at the manor, I got to pay them.”
“How long will you be?”
“Ten minutes.”
She slipped her arms around him. “Then I’ll wait, but only ten minutes, and we can have a . . .” She kissed him and he gasped for breath when he broke away from her. “Don’t be long,” she whispered, biting his ear.
He blushed, glancing toward the gates then back to the small wooden makeshift hut. “You know, anyone can walk in here, Connie.”
She giggled. “Exciting, isn’t it? Besides, you can lock the main gates, can’t you? But I think it’ll be more fun if they’re open and we screw knowing somebody’ll walk in any minute. And look, I brought us a bottle of wine.”
He was all over the place, kissing her, groping her breasts, and then he sprinted to his truck. He shouted back that he would be no more than ten minutes.
She was still standing there on the steps of his hut, blouse open, as he clipped the gatepost in his haste to get out. She didn’t even wait for the tail end of the van to disappear before she shot into the hut and began to sift through all his papers until she found some order forms. She called a trade supplier and ordered the bags of lime to be delivered directly to the manor for a cash payment. She gave John’s firm’s reference and as soon as she replaced the receiver she hurried out, picking up her bag with the bottle of wine. Next stop, the signal box.
Mike had just finished his lunch and was about to go back to the station when the call came. He was eager not to let Susan answer it in case it was Angela again. They almost collided in the hall, they were both so desperate to reach the telephone first.
Mike snatched it up. Susan stood with her hands on her hips.
“Hello? Who is it?” Susan said petulantly.
“It’s my governor.” He glared at her so hard that she turned away and stomped into the kitchen.
“What do you want?” he said quietly, afraid Susan would still be listening.
“Need to see you, love, it’s urgent. I’ll be at the Pen and Whistle pub, the one on the corner by your mother’s flat, in the saloon bar, six thirty.”
“I can’t—I can’t see you.”
“I think you can, Mike. Six thirty, just be there.”
The line went dead. He stood there, holding the receiver, and then quickly dialed his station. He was put through to the incident room and he told them he was not feeling too well so he would be in a bit late. Then he looked toward the kitchen. He was sure that Susan was listening. All his anger and frustration welled up as he dropped the phone back down.
Ester, being lazy, called a number of railway museums first but was not getting the information she needed. She then tried another tactic, saying she was making a documentary film for the BBC and asking if she could she speak to anyone working at the museum who could assist her. She was given various numbers to call for permission to interview railway technicians and started working her way through them. Permission was not granted by British Rail, so she was now contacting the private railways, saying the BBC documentary had the full backing of the Transport Ministry, who were co-financing the film.
She looked at the list of essential items listed by Dolly: size and weight of the train compartments, couplings and sidings. Underlined was how long it would take to unhitch one carriage from another. She sighed: this was going to take forever.
Big John had only been gone twelve and a half minutes, more or less flinging the money at his men and racing back to his yard. He quickly ran a comb through his hair, wishing he’d got a spot of cologne, then locked the big double gates before running over to his hut. He threw open the door, his heart pounding.
Connie had left, no note, nothing. She’d even taken the bottle of wine.
Still carrying her suitcase, Angela walked along the road toward Mike’s house. It was growing dark and it had taken her hours to hitch a ride from the manor. She saw Mike’s car parked outside his house and was in two minds whether or not to go and ring the doorbell. She wanted to confront him, tell him about the baby, but the nearer she got the more her confidence dwindled. She definitely didn’t want to see his wife. She sat down on a wall, wondering if he would come out.
Inside the house, Mike and Susan were having one hell of a row. She was demanding to know all about Angela, the phone calls—everything—and he was refusing to answer. “You stay out all night, and don’t speak to me. How do you expect me to feel?”
Mike clenched his fists. “Susan, I’ve told you, there is nothing—nothing between me and this girl.”
“Then why does she keep calling you? Why was that Mrs. Rawlins round here? Is it true that she’s pregnant?”
“Leave it alone, Susan. I mean it. Just shut up about it. You’re driving me nuts.”
“And you’re driving me nuts,” she said in a fury, watching as he grabbed his coat. “Where are you going?”
“Out. I can’t stand it here.”
“One of these days you’re gonna come back here and the locks will have been changed.”
He sighed. “Sue, listen, give me a break. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now and I just can’t tell you about it.”
“Try me, go on, try me!” she shouted.
He ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t even know where to begin. How could he tell her about his mother, the diamonds, the trouble he was in at work? He knew she wouldn’t be able to deal with it. Right now, Angela was the least of his problems. He was afraid of what Dolly Rawlins wanted, scared he was heading into even deeper trouble, but he couldn’t tell anyone, especially not his wife. Susan broke down in tears as he walked out. She ran up the stairs and was about to open the window, call out to him that they had to talk, when she saw Angela.
Mike yanked open the car door and then suddenly Angela was there. “We got to talk, Mike.”
“No, we haven’t. I got nothing to say to you, Angela, just go away from me. I don’t want to see you. Stay away from me and my house.” He got in and slammed the door shut. She rapped on the window and when she wouldn’t stop he wound it down.
“I lost the baby, Mike.”
“I don’t care, Angela, you hear me? I don’t care.”
She was sobbing, looking like an orphan with her suitcase. “I got no one to help me, Mike,” she wept.
He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took all the money he had and held it out. “Here, take this, take it, it’s all I got on me.”
“I didn’t come for money,” she wailed.
He pushed the money at her. “Take it, Angela. I can’t see you, so please stay away from me. Just go away, Angela!” He threw the money onto the pavement, and started the car. It was six fifteen, and although he was afraid to meet Dolly Rawlins he was more afraid not to, so he drove off.
Angela picked up the four twenty-pound notes, unaware that Susan was watching from the bedroom window, crying just as hard as she was, and wishing she had enough money to get the locks changed there and then.
Gloria and Julia were both deep in the cesspit, clearing away the filth. Their heads appeared at the lip as Ester carried out two mugs.
“All right for some,” moaned Gloria, accepting the tea.
“Blimey, it’s deep, isn’t it?” Ester remarked.
“I’d say this is for the mailbags,” Julia replied. “What do you think?”
“I dunno—who knows what the old bat’s doing? But as long as it’s not for us, who cares?” Ester set off back toward the house.
Gloria looked at Julia. “What if she’s got us diggin’ our own bleedin’ grave? She shot her old man, remember. I wouldn’t put nothing past her.”
Connie was perched on the counter in the signal box, a chipped glass of red wine in her hand, which she clinked against Jim’s mug. “Cheers.”
He moved closer. “You could get me the sack you know, Connie.”
“Who’s gonna know I’m here?”
“Well, anyone passing can see us.”
She slithered off the counter to sit on the floor. “Now they can’t.” She began to run her hand up his trouser leg.
“Hang on a second—lemme just sort this out. It’s the six o’clock, then we got fifteen minutes.”
Connie watched as he pulled levers and answered the phone. She began to ease down her panties. She held them up, waving them. “Can I have another drink down here?”
Jim began heaving the rail levers faster than he ever had before while Connie crawled across the floor and started undoing his flies. By now she had a good sense of where the phone connection wires ran but she didn’t have any knowledge of the alarms. All she knew was that it was going to be a very long night.
Dolly sipped the lemonade, flicking through her little black notebook. Mike stood over her as she looked up, smiling.
“Nothing for me, but do get yourself a drink, love, if you need one.”
“I don’t.” He sat down, having a good look around the bar. “What do you want?”
Dolly shut the book, had another sip. “Some information—sort of like a trade.”
“What information?” he asked, his heart pounding. He knew something bad was coming but when it came it left him shattered. “I can’t find that out! That’s classified!”
She leaned forward and tapped his arm. “Yes, you can and you will, otherwise I will have to inform your superiors about those diamonds, about your mother, everything. It’s up to you, Mike. Tell me now if you don’t want to do it. You must have some old friends from your Army days—they might be helpful, but if you don’t want to do it . . .”
“I’ve just said I don’t.”
“Oh, I know you did, but you see, Mike, that’s because I don’t think you really believe that I’d be prepared to go back to prison. But I would, and I wouldn’t be on my own. You’d be sent down as well, and they might even haul your mother back from Spain. So let me ask you again—can you get the information I need?”
He shuffled his feet, took another look around. “How long have I got?”
“Two days, no more.” She drained her glass, placing it carefully back on the beer mat. “I’ll call you, don’t you call me. Two days.”
He sat, head in his hands, as she walked out. The cement was drying, up to his chest now. He didn’t know whether to throw the table through the pub window or do as she had asked: find out how much money the mail train was carrying, and if they were going to continue using the same route. He looked at the slip of paper she had passed him with the name of the security firm on the side of the vans she’d seen outside her local station. It was a reputable firm and he didn’t know if he’d be able to get any information from them. He needed a drink, a large one. No way would he be able to go in to work. He really did feel ill.
Dolly drove back to the manor and as she turned into the drive the headlamps picked out the large rubbish tip still burning. She got out, leaving the lights on, and walked past it to the cesspit. She nodded to herself, satisfied it was big enough and, most certainly, deep enough.
When she got in she found the kitchen in a mess: dirty soup plates, mince in a pan, dried-out baked beans in another, stacks of used cups and mugs. Every surface was food-stained and filthy. She pursed her lips and dumped her handbag, throwing aside her coat. She found Ester lying stretched out on the sofa with a glass of wine, reading the TV Times. Julia was asleep in an easy chair, the television on in the background. Neither heard Dolly. She walked up the big staircase and looked into Connie’s room, but it was empty. Then she went up to the second landing to the children’s room.
The last person Dolly expected to see was Gloria, wrapped in an old dressing gown, sitting with Sheena on her knee. The other two were fast asleep in the big old-fashioned double bed. “Oh, said the little pig. What will the big bad wolf do?” Gloria rocked the child, stroking her hair. “Well, he’ll huff and he’ll puff and he’ll blow the house down.”
Sheena lifted her tiny hand to Gloria’s cheek. “You’re not our mummy, are you?”
Gloria shook her head. The little girl’s question touched her heart—so many different homes, so many different foster carers, the little girl was completely confused.
Gloria kissed her. “No, I’m not your mummy.”
“Doesn’t she love us anymore?”
“Yes, of course she does. But you know, Sheena, a long, long time ago I had a little girl, just like you, and I had to go away, just like your mummy has had to go away. My little girl never had a nice house to live in and I couldn’t ever see her again but you will. Your mummy being away doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. She does. And she’s arranged for us all to look after you until she comes back. Do you understand?”
“No.” Sheena yawned.
“My little girl never understood but then it was too late, you see, I couldn’t see her. But you’ll be able to see your mummy. One of us will always take you to see her so you won’t forget who she is, and in the meantime we’ll all be like extra mothers. How’s that?”
Sheena was asleep, and Dolly stayed where she was, looking at a Gloria she hadn’t known existed, a sad, lonely Gloria who was being so gentle and caring, so unlike the hard, uncouth harridan she showed to them all. They all had secrets, all had hidden pain. Somehow she had not expected Gloria to have so much.