Jim hugged Connie tightly. He was feeling very drunk but not as drunk as Connie had hoped. He’d had three pints in the pub and one and a half bottles of wine at home, plus two of Dolly’s sleeping tablets, and he was still going strong, his face flushed, his eyes unfocused, but no way was he about to pass out.
“I love you,” he said, hanging his head.
“I love you too,” she lied.
“You do? Is that the truth?”
“Yeah, I love you, Jim.”
He stepped back, arms wide. “I don’t believe it. You love me?” She was getting really pissed off with him. Then he got down on his knees in front of her. “Listen, I know we haven’t known each other very long but I own this house, I mean, on a mortgage, right? But I own it and my car and . . . you really love me?” He kissed her hand, getting a bit tearful. She passed him another drink and he gulped it down. “I need a drink to do this, I never thought I would, okay, give me another . . .” She poured the remains of the bottle into his glass and he swallowed that too, still on his knees. “Will you marry me?” He looked up into her face as he slowly fell forward, his arms clasped around her legs, unable to keep himself upright.
“Jim. Jim?” She squatted down beside him and gave him a shake but he was out for the count. She slipped his duvet around him and put a pillow under his head before searching his pockets and looking through his wallet. Connie then searched every drawer and closet as he snored away, now curled up on his side. She was about to give up when she saw a small diary at his bedside. She flicked through it: just the odd memo about dental appointments and mortgage payments but listed at the back was a neat row of numbers. She jotted them down, not knowing if they meant anything or not, then turned off the lights and let herself out.
Connie waited for the late-night bus and still had a long walk home at the other end. It was raining and she got soaked, so by the time she got to her bedroom she was in a foul mood. She couldn’t sleep straight away because she still felt angry; she was being used, she told herself, almost as much as when she was with Lennie. Well, she wasn’t going to take much more of it. Let one of the others get pawed all over, she was well and truly sick of it. She even felt a bit sorry for Jim, who’d obviously fallen hard. She wondered if he’d remember asking her to marry him in the morning.
Connie tossed and turned, and then felt terribly sad. She realized Jim was the only man in her entire life who had asked her to marry him. She gave up on trying to sleep and decided to make herself a nightcap.
Connie was surprised to see Ester sitting in the kitchen in her dressing gown, her hands cupped round a mug of hot chocolate.
“Can’t sleep either, huh?”
Ester shook her head. She hated to admit it, but she couldn’t sleep for thinking of Julia being with Norma. “You have a good night?” she asked.
“Depends what you mean by good,” Connie answered, leaning against the Aga. “I found some numbers in his diary. They may be the codes, they may not be, I dunno. He asked me to marry him.”
Ester looked up. “What?”
“Yeah, funny, isn’t it? He’s a nice guy, and so’s the builder bloke, but all their niceness does is make me miss Lennie.”
“What?”
“I can’t stop thinking about him.” She fetched a mug and spooned in some Horlicks.
“Well, you’d better stop bloody thinking of him. Especially after what we all did to get rid of his body.”
Connie poured hot milk into the mug and stirred it, then joined Ester at the kitchen table. “Why is it I go for the bastards of this world and not the nice blokes?”
“Because, sweetheart, you’re a sucker.”
“I am not.”
“Course you are. Lennie beat the living daylights out of you.”
“He loved me in his way.”
“What way? Who you kidding? He had you on the game and you call it love? He’s not worth even thinking about—no pimp is.”
“He wasn’t my pimp.”
“Pull the other one and grow up. He wanted you back on the game. That’s why you ran off and left him, so don’t start fantasizing that it was all lovey-dovey and he’d have you in a cottage with kids and roses round the garden gate. He was a piece of shit.”
“You didn’t even know him,” Connie retorted.
“I didn’t have to. Know one, know them all. And you got so used to being his punchbag you—”
“I wasn’t!”
“Yes, you were!” Ester pushed back her chair and took her dirty mug to the sink, slamming it down on the draining board. “You got loving all confused with being smacked, sweetheart. Wallop, I love you. Beat me up and it means you love me even more—but then, when he’s got you on all fours, crawling like a dog, he’ll give you one last kick and you’re out, used, abused and your head fucked up.”
“You’d know, would you?”
“Yes,” Ester hissed.
“That why you go with women?”
Ester whirled and slapped Connie’s face hard. “You don’t know anything about me. But lemme tell you, I know men, know them better than you or anyone else in this house ever will. You make me sick, moaning about that two-bit punk. Instead of bleatin’ on about how much he loved you, you should thank Christ he’s out of your life.”
Connie put her hand to her cheek. “Oh yeah, my life’s so much better now, is it?”
Ester shrugged. “It might be. I guess it depends what happens.” Then she walked out.
Norma took her time washing up the supper dishes, feeling awkward in the strange, old-fashioned house. Julia’s mother was very ill; the stroke had robbed her of speech and movement, and she lay in her bed, her eyes open wide, as if she was staring at the ceiling.
Julia had been shocked to see her so immobilized and, as a doctor, she had quickly assessed her condition and known instantly she would need round-the-clock nursing. It would be impossible for her to remain alone at the house, even with a housekeeper. She had sat beside her mother for most of the evening. She had a lot to say to her, but they had never really talked and now they never would. Her mother would never speak again. Julia even had to change her as she was incontinent, had washed her as if she were a baby, cleaned the bed and tidied her thinning white hair. She had not said a word but Norma thought her gentleness was touching. Now Julia sat staring at the silent figure, knowing a home was the only option left to her as a nurse was out of the question financially.
Julia held the frail, bony hand. “Oh Mama, we should have talked. I’d have liked you to know who I was but, well, it’s too late now.”
Norma peeked in. “I’ve cleared the dishes and cleaned the kitchen a bit. It was a bit grimy.”
“Thank you.”
Norma could tell Julia didn’t want to talk to her, that she somehow resented her presence. She crept to the bed and looked at the old woman. She made not a sound, didn’t move a muscle. There was just the vacant stare.
“You can share the bedroom with me,” Julia said quietly.
Norma whispered that she would go downstairs and watch television, and crept out again. Norma was trying her best, but all this creeping around made Julia want to scream.
She began to pack her mother’s nightwear, hairbrush and toiletries into a small bag, ready for the move. She would check all the homes that would take her and arrange a private ambulance in the morning. She opened and shut drawer after drawer as quietly as possible so as not to disturb her mother, carrying the garments back and forth to the open case on a low bedside chair. She thought she should perhaps put in some bed jackets or cardigans and started to search through the dressing-table drawers. She saw the newspaper-clippings, hidden beneath a fine wool shawl. At first she didn’t think anything of them but then, as she removed the shawl, she couldn’t help but notice the headline: “Local Doctor in Drug Scandal.”
Julia’s heart pounded. She sat down on the dressing-table stool and got out the neat stack of clippings. They detailed her arrest for possession of heroin, the charges for selling prescriptions and her trial and sentence. The secret she had so painstakingly kept from her mother, all the years of lying and frantic subterfuge had been a waste of time because all along she had known.
She screwed up the clippings into a tight ball and hurled them into the waste bin but it was a while before the anger rose to the surface, and she turned to the silent figure in the bed.
“You knew! You knew, all those years, and you never told me, you never talked to me!”
In the drawing room below, Norma heard the banging and scraping and quickly ran up the narrow staircase. When she got to the bedroom, she stood at the doorway, frightened, as Julia shook her mother’s bed until it rattled, until the old woman seemed about to roll out of it.
“No, Julia! No, stop it! For God’s sake, stop this!”
Julia then turned her fury on Norma. She was ready to lash out at her, at anyone who came near her, but Norma was quite able to take care of herself and gripped Julia tightly. “Julia, it’s me, it’s Norma, stop this . . .”
“She knew, Norma. All the years I’ve broken my fucking back keeping it away from her, and she knew.”
Julia stormed out of the room. Norma didn’t understand what she was talking about but she quickly settled Mrs. Lawson back on her pillows and tucked in the bedclothes. She leaned over the bed, touching the frail, wrinkled hand. “It’s all right, she’ll be fine.”
Norma felt such sadness as the mute figure’s helpless fingers tried to hold on to her and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Don’t worry, you’ll be taken care of, Mrs. Lawson, and I will look after Julia.”
Only the tears indicated that the old lady understood.
When Norma went into Julia’s room, she found her lying on her bed, the bed she had used as a girl, with fists clenched, cursing her own stupidity.
“You shouldn’t have done that, upset her like that,” Norma said quietly.
“What do you know?” Julia spat angrily.
“Well, maybe she can’t talk but she can hear, Julia.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
Norma began to massage Julia’s back. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t,” Julia said, her face buried in the pillow.
“Try me,” Norma said softly.
Julia rolled over and looked up into her face. “This was my bedroom, and you know something? I knew I was gay when I was about twelve or thirteen. She was a stable girl at the local riding school and we came back and we did it in here, then Mother served us tea. We laughed about that.” Julia sat up and leaned against Norma. “I wanted to make her understand . . . I wanted her to know who I was, Norma, but all she wanted was for me to be married and have kids. She still asks . . .” Julia mimicked her mother asking if she had a boyfriend and then she bowed her head. “You know, maybe she’s always known I was a lesbian but could never bring herself to talk about it.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Get her into a home tomorrow, sell this place and that’s it. There’s nothing for me here. Maybe there never was.” She sounded resigned.
Later that night Norma washed Mrs. Lawson. She kissed her and switched off the light before going up to bed with Julia. They made love and then Norma fell asleep.
Julia crept out from under the covers and slipped from the room. She removed Norma’s police riding cape and hat from the Land Rover, closing the back as quietly as she could. She packed them into a case and left it in the hallway before returning upstairs. But she did not go back to bed immediately. Instead she inched open the door to her mother’s room: she had not moved from the center of the bed, seeming somehow trapped inside the tight sheet across her chest. She appeared to be asleep.
Julia stood staring at her for about five minutes, and then silently left the room. She no longer felt anger, just utterly drained, and it was then she remembered. Her pace quickened as she went into the bathroom. She had to lie flat on the tiled bathroom floor as she unscrewed the cheap Formica surrounds of the bath, pulling them away and reaching around until she found the tin medical box. Only after she had re-screwed the panel into place did she open the old battered white box with the scratched red cross in the center. She sighed: there was the rubber tube, there were the hypodermic needles, the tiny packets of white cocaine and one small, screwed-up, tin-foil square of heroin.
The following morning Julia made a list of items she wanted from the house. She had arranged for a local estate agent to come in and had also found a home that would take her mother. It was expensive and Norma suggested they ring round a few others. “Nope. With the money from the house I can pay for it.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just got a lot to get sorted.”
Norma couldn’t quite understand Julia’s attitude. She was unemotional, all business. She simply put it down to her way of dealing with the situation and never thought for a moment Julia was high.
Julia didn’t see her mother again. Norma got her ready for the ambulance. Julia refused to help when the ambulance arrived, remaining in the drawing room when they took her away. She was still making phone calls, canceling milk, papers, and the housekeeper.
“She’s gone,” Norma said sadly.
“Okay, we can leave in about half an hour.” Julia continued writing, calculating how much the house would be worth. As it had been re-mortgaged three times, there would be little or nothing left from the sale. She was going to need money more than ever, and if it wasn’t from the robbery, she would have to find some other means to finance her mother’s stay at the home.
Norma did not notice her hat and cape were missing until they left. She didn’t seem unduly worried, blaming herself for forgetting to lock the car. “Probably be some kids. It’s a wretched nuisance because I’ll have to fork out for the replacements but at least they didn’t nick the car.”
“Yeah, that’s good,” Julia said, picking up the small case she was carrying out to the car. “Just a couple of things I thought I’d take back with me.”
Norma started the engine. “Well, if you need storage space, I’ve got a huge barn, and your mother has some nice pieces of furniture, antiques even.”
As they drove off, Julia didn’t look back. The house and her mother were in the past now. Her mother was as good as dead and at least there would be no more lies. She stared out of the window. “Stupid woman. Why did she never tell me she knew?”
Norma said nothing, knowing that Julia wasn’t expecting an answer. They headed back to the manor and Norma wondered if Julia would thank her for being with her, for caring, for loving her. “I love you, Julia,” she said softly.
Julia continued to gaze out of the window, not hearing, wondering if Ester was missing her. Then she began to think about the train hijack and started to smile: maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was just the thought of doing something so audacious, so crazy that lifted her spirits.
“Feeling a bit better?” Norma asked.
“Yeah, I’m feeling good, really good!”
Dolly was in a ratty mood. She was running low on cash and John was standing in her office, refusing to budge.
“I just want to know what’s going on. If I lay the men off, I won’t get them back. You got half a roof, scaffolding up, I got cement and sand out there. I’ve laid out for the equipment, Mrs. Rawlins. I’ve kept my end of the bargain.”
“Look, I’m sorry about this but there have been a few problems. If you give me another day or so—”
“But you say that every time I come here.”
“I know, but I can’t help it if people don’t pay me. It’s not that I like doing this to you.”
“The place is unsafe, Mrs. Rawlins, and you got kids running around.”
Dolly opened a drawer and took out the last of the cash from the sale of the guns. Five thousand pounds. Now she was almost cleaned out. “Look, do what you can. If you have to lay a few of the men off then you have to do it but this is all I’ve got right now.”
John counted out the money, then stashed it in his pocket. “Okay. At least I’ll finish the roof,” he said as he walked out. She scratched her chin. The idea of the robbery was fading fast. They couldn’t manage the horses, never mind hold up the train.
Gloria yelled from the yard for someone to get Dolly as the truck arrived with the bags of lime. More money had to be paid over to the driver before he would even lift one of the twenty-kilo bags down from the back of the truck. Dolly then had to pay out for the skip that she had ordered. Money was always going out and nothing was coming in.
“What we gonna do with all this lime, then?” Gloria asked, prodding the bag.
“Tip it into the old cesspit.”
“Oh yeah? Well, who’s gonna do that?”
“All of you. Get them out there.”
“Bloody hell,” moaned Gloria.
Dolly clenched her hands. “Just get on with it!”
Connie, Ester and Gloria changed into old clothes, put on big thick gloves and scarves to cover their faces, and began to slit open the bags and tip them into the pit. The lime clouded and burned their eyes, making their skin itch, so there were further moans and groans. Julia returned, bright and breezy as she stood looking at the three figures resembling snowmen.
“It’s not funny! You get changed and give us a hand,” Ester snapped.
As Julia walked off, Connie called after her, “How’s your mother?” and Julia shouted back that it was all taken care of. Ester then hurled a sack aside and followed Julia. “Did Norma stay with you?”
“Yep, and I got her hat and cape.” Julia held up the case cheerfully.
“Well, you keep her away from here,” Ester said, and Julia smiled, happy that she was still jealous.
In the kitchen, she found Angela giving the three girls some lunch, and Dolly sitting moodily at the end of the table with her notebook open. She looked up as Julia walked in. “How was your mother?”
“Mute,” Julia said, and then leaned close to Dolly. “Got the hat and cape.”
Dolly nodded, then looked to the three girls. “I don’t want any of you going near the big pit out at the back. If you do, you’ll get a very hard smack and you won’t be allowed to ride Helen of Troy, do you all understand? I see one of you even close to the pit and I will make you very, very sorry.”
Their expressions were glum, and Angela poured another cup of tea for Dolly.
“What’s in the pit?”
“Mind your own business, Angela. Take the girls for a nice long walk up to the woods.”
Dolly didn’t touch the tea and instead went out to see how the others were doing. She stopped off at the stables to fetch an old canvas bag and walked over to the “snowmen.” “When it’s finished put this in, see how long it takes to disintegrate. Then fetch some corrugated iron. Take it off the stables roof at the back, and put it over the pit.”
Gloria saluted stiffly but Dolly was not amused and walked off round to the front of the house.
“She certainly doesn’t get her hands dirty, does she?” Connie said.
Julia poked at the canvas bag with a rake. The bag was disintegrating fast. “Look, Ester, it works. How was the riding this morning?”
Ester threw her gloves into the pit. “We’re bloody useless. Gloria almost fell off.”
“I didn’t,” Connie said proudly.
Julia slipped her arm round Connie’s shoulder. “That’s because you, my darling, have a good seat!”
Ester stared hard at Julia. It wasn’t like her to be so jolly. “You been drinking with Norma?”
“Nope.” Julia then single-handedly lifted one sheet of the corrugated iron and dropped it down over the pit. “Just feeling good, Ester.”
Mike knew something was going down when he saw Craigh and Palmer having a confab in the corridor. As soon as they saw him, they turned away.
“What’s going on?” Mike asked casually.
DCI Craigh sighed. “A lot, mate. Seems the ruddy estimates that bitch Rawlins sent in are now with the Super and he’s gone apeshit.”
“Shit,” Mike said ruefully.
“You said it, and it’s all over us. We got to get it sorted and, Mike, don’t expect to get off with a slapped wrist because I’m not covering for you and nor is he.” He jerked his thumb at Palmer. Palmer gave an apologetic shrug.
Mike hesitated. “What if I’d got a tip-off about—”
“We don’t want any more of your fuckin’ tip-offs, we got enough problems.” Craigh prodded Mike with his index finger. “You sit at your desk. This Rawlins business has left us with a lot of aggro and there are old cases that now take precedence. But if there’s to be an internal investigation, I’m warning you, I’m not taking the rap.”
Craigh stormed off down the corridor and Palmer looked after him, then back at Mike. “Super’s in with the Chief now so we just have to wait. Maybe it’ll all blow over.”
Mike could feel the pit of his stomach churning. He felt trapped and he couldn’t see any way out of it. When he got to his desk there was a message to call Colin. Mike held the slip in his hands, half of him wanting to come clean, to tell Craigh everything. He wanted to tell him about Angela and about his mother, but the more he thought about just how much there was to confess, the more he panicked. He was trapped, all right.
Mike took the pen Angela had given him out of his pocket and sucked at the end of it. Then he looked at the clock. He had another couple of hours’ work before he could skive off. Maybe the best plan of action was to see how things played out, go and see his mate again, go and talk to Rawlins, and then make the decision as to whether or not he should spill the beans.
While Angela was putting the children to bed, the women came in to see Dolly as she sat behind her desk. “Shut the door,” Dolly said quietly.
They lined up, sensing something was going down. Dolly tapped the desk with her pencil, flicking through the little black book. She pointed at Connie. “You. We have to find out if the numbers you got from the bloke at the signal box are the coded alarms.”
Connie chewed her lip and sighed. “How do I do that?”
“Get in the signal box and, I dunno, switch on the alarm, see what happens.”
Gloria sat down. “Well, we really are professionals, aren’t we?”
Dolly glared at her. “I want you to scout around under the signal box, see where their main electrical and phone cables are, see if we can cut them.”
“Then there’s this.” Dolly took out the pen and opened it, slipping in the small batteries. “Connie, give this to the bloke in the signal box. This transmitter you place somewhere inside the box. The tail wire, make sure it hangs loose so we get a clear reception. Shove it on a shelf or somethin’. Shouldn’t be too hard, it’s only just bigger than a matchbox. I’ve got one under the signal box already but the batteries need changing.”
“We got anything from the signal box?”
Julia snorted. “Yeah, we know when they eat, fart and go home.”
Dolly was surprised at Julia—she wasn’t usually so crude. “What’s the matter with you?”
Julia wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Got a bit of a cold coming on. Apart from that I’m fine. How are you?”
Dolly raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine, Julia, but we don’t want you in bed sick if we got to ride with you.”
Ester propped herself on the desk. “Dolly, when are we gonna be told just how we go about the whole thing? I mean, you’re a great one for giving orders but we don’t really know what we’re doing all this for.”
“I’ll tell you when I’m ready or when I think you’re ready. Now get on with your jobs, all of you.”
Julia sniffed and looked at Ester. “What do you want us to do?”
Dolly jerked a thumb toward the receiver and the headphones. “You take it in shifts to listen in at the signal box.”
“Who’s listening in to the copper?” Gloria asked.
“I am,” Dolly said as she picked up her briefcase and walked out.
Ester nudged Julia. “You think she’s listening in on us?”
“Put money on it,” Gloria said.
It was a long night, Julia and Ester taking it in shifts, boring hours of listening in at the signal box. It only became interesting when Connie turned up. She hitched up her skirt as she perched on the table and crooked her finger at Jim. “I got a present for you.”
Jim was hungover and feeling a bit sheepish. “Look, Connie, about the other night.”
“Forget it, you said a lot of things that maybe you didn’t mean.”
“No, I meant every word, I just didn’t mean to pass out.”
She wound her legs round his waist. “Here, this is for you.” She unwrapped the pen and slipped it into his top pocket. “Keep it close to your heart.”
Ester looked over at Dolly as she walked in. “He’s got the pen. It was a bit distorted to begin with but now we can hear them snogging clear as a bell.”
Dolly glanced at Julia, who had the earpiece in. “I’m off, be back late. I’m taking Gloria’s car.”
Julia beckoned to her and she moved closer. “I think they’re having it away, lot of heavy breathing, you want to hear?”
“All I want to hear is the code for those alarms.”
Connie pulled down her skirt and stepped out of her panties as Jim closed the gates for a passenger train. He didn’t mess around when it came to his work, even when Connie nuzzled up behind him and wrapped her arms round his chest.
“Just stay off me a second, I got work to do, darlin’.”
Connie sighed, moving close to the alarm box and special telephone. “If something went wrong on the rail, Jim, what would you do?”
“Get the sack if they found you here.” He looked toward the station as the train chugged up the tracks.
“I mean if there was an accident,” she asked, sliding down so she couldn’t be seen from the station.
“Well, with the alarms I got a direct line to the local cop shop, fire brigade and ambulance. They can all be here within four minutes.”
She watched him as he went about his business, pulling the levers down, moving backward and forward across the hut.
“What about the live-wire cable?”
Julia switched on the main speaker and she, Ester and Dolly could hear the train thundering past the signal box. Then they heard something else, a third voice.
John had been playing detective, and now he knew his suspicions were right. He was standing at the gates, his car engine ticking over, when he looked up at the signal box. He knew it was her right away. As the gates opened and the train passed, he saw her more clearly. She was laughing and chatting away. He drove into the yard beneath the box and ran up the wooden steps, then banged on the door.
“Connie, I know you’re in there. Connie!”
He burst into the signal box, and Jim whipped round.
“What you think you’re doing?” John yelled at Connie.
“Seeing an old friend,” she shouted back.
John turned toward Jim. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Jim looked at Connie in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” she shrieked, pushing John back.
“You liar! This is the second time I’ve seen you up here! I’ll get him the sack, that’s for starters. You shouldn’t be up here.”
“I can go wherever I like, it’s no business of yours.”
“Yes, it fucking is!”
John threw a punch at Jim who ducked, looking down at the station, terrified someone would be watching. He backed away.
“Look, mate, I dunno who you are but you’d better get out of here.”
John grabbed Connie. “She’s coming with me.”
“I am not! You don’t own me,” Connie yelled, kicking out at him. She was close to the alarm switch, just inches away.
Dolly put her hand over her face. “One of you had better get up there, get her out.”
The alarm went off. Julia winced, the sound so loud it screamed through the room. “Jesus Christ, it’s the fucking alarm!” Ester yelled.
Jim’s face drained of color. He shouted for Connie and John to get out as he dialed the station to report a false alarm. Connie saw him punch in each number and then closed her eyes, trying to fix the order in her memory as John tried to haul her out. They could hear somebody shouting from the platform below. “Get out of here!” Jim roared. He knew if they were discovered in his signal box he’d lose his job for sure.
By now a passing patrol car had heard the alarm and was already heading toward the station, siren blaring.
John dragged Connie down the steps and had only just shoved her into his van when the patrol car hurtled into the yard. The two uniformed officers got out as Jim appeared at the top of the steps. “It’s okay, no problem. It was just a routine test.”
The officers hesitated, one continuing up the steps while the other crossed over to John.
“What you doing here?”
John grinned. “Sorry, mate, just having a quickie with the girlfriend when it went off—talk about being caught short.”
The officer nodded, looking into the van. Connie tittered nervously.
“Well, you shouldn’t be in this area, so go on, on your way.”
John drove out, Connie sitting as far away from him as possible. “You had no right to do that, you know,” she said. “I don’t belong to you. I can have as many boyfriends as I like. You even live with a girl and I don’t get uptight about that.”
“I don’t live with anyone anymore.”
“Well, don’t blame it on me.”
John slammed on the brakes. “I thought you were serious about us.”
“Oh, do me a favor.”
“I just did. You could have been arrested for being up there with him, you know, and he’ll probably lose his job.”
“Only if you rat on him.”
John clenched the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. “I don’t understand you, I thought—”
“You thought what?” she said, her face red with anger.
“That maybe you . . . well, I made a mistake.”
“Yes, you did, John. I don’t like being told who I can go out with by you or anybody else. If I want to screw—”
“Stop talking like that.”
“Talking like what?”
He turned on her. “A cheap tart.”
She slapped his face, almost wanting him to slap her back, but he shook his head and turned away.
“I’ll take you home.”
He started the engine, feeling sick. “Why did you lead me on?” he asked softly.
She gently touched his shoulder. “I’m just not ready to get serious about anyone, not yet.”
He shrugged her hand away. “It’s not as if you’re any spring chicken. How old are you, anyway? You carry on like this and no decent man’ll want you.”
Connie felt as if he had punched her, harder than Lennie ever had. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Well, you got a good figure but I don’t think you can count, sweetheart. You’re not twenty-five.”
She didn’t know what to say. She just felt the tears welling up, trickling down her cheeks. She was only thirty-five but he made her feel as if she was old and worn out. She snuffled as the van turned into the lane by the manor.
“Just drop me here,” she said quietly.
He stopped the van sharply, then leaned across her to open the door for her.
“Jim asked me to marry him,” she said as she climbed out.
“Well, he’s a sucker. He can have you and don’t worry, I won’t rat on him. He’s gonna need every penny he can get keeping you—unless you do more of those films you told me about.”
She slammed the door hard and teetered off along the uneven road in her stilettos. John watched her perfect arse as she sashayed along. Then he drove off, wondering whether or not he could make it up with his girlfriend. Maybe he should even ask her to marry him. She was a decent girl. Sometimes it takes a piece of trash like Connie to make you come to your senses, he thought.
Julia passed him on her way back to the manor. She pulled up alongside Connie and wound down the window. “I was sent out to see if you needed any assistance.”
“I obviously didn’t,” snapped Connie, continuing toward the front door. She watched Julia drive round to the stables before she let herself in, and ran up the stairs, trying to avoid seeing anyone else, but Dolly caught her halfway. “You get the alarm codes? You set it off, didn’t you?”
Connie sniffed, refusing to look at her. “Yes, I got them, but right now I want to be alone.”
“Come on now, Connie love. Come back down here and tell me all about it.”
“Just stop telling me what to do, I done what you wanted, now leave me alone.” She went on up the stairs.
Dolly looked at her watch and then back to the drawing room. She was tired herself but she had to make sure Mike wasn’t setting them up. It was in danger of all falling apart and it seemed, at times, that she was the only adult amongst them. Maybe she should call it all off, and just get rid of the lot of them. She smiled, imagining pushing each one of them into the lime pit.
Connie sat at her dressing table, studying her face in the mirror. “Maybe you are old,” she whispered, and then quickly did a movie-star pout. “Gonna be rich, though, and then you’ll always be young and beautiful, and . . .” For the first time she knew for sure she would go through with any robbery Dolly Rawlins had in mind. She stopped making her Marilyn Monroe face, and the real Connie appeared, the other side that she always hid away, the angry, bitter, tough little Liverpool tart that’d give any lad a backhander, just like her dad gave her, like every man seemed to think he could. She’d taken the punches, taken the shit, all her life, but she wasn’t going to take any more. She closed her full, sexy lips in a tight line. “Fuck you, Marilyn.”
Connie breathed on the mirror and, with the tip of her finger, traced the numbers. Now, thanks to her, Dolly had the code for the alarm. Connie beamed: she wasn’t as dumb as they all made out, but, as the numbers faded in the mirror, she began to panic, searching for something she could use to write them down. She found her black eyebrow pencil and a piece of tissue, then closed her eyes, replaying in her mind the moment Jim, in his panic, punched in the numbers. She might be no good with words, for reading and the like, but she’d always been able to count. No punter ever short-changed tough little Connie Stevens by a penny.
When Dolly appeared, she asked her twice if she was sure she had the right code, staring at the tissue with the childish figures.
“Yeah. If the alarm goes off, we call that number.”
Dolly gave that odd smile. “You did good, darlin’, very good.” Connie felt good, but there was no further praise as Dolly left the room, folding the tissue and putting it into her pocket.
Dolly went out alone later that night. If Jim had just used the telephone, then the wires had to be beneath the hut, and all she had to do was cut them because the alarm would also be connected to the central box. She used a map-reading torch, inching her way beneath the signal box, to check for herself. And, sure enough, in the area marked “No Admittance,” was a large, secure BT fixture, similar to those in residential areas, the ones an engineer sits by with hundreds of tiny wires, and you pass him by wondering what the hell he is doing. Dolly could just make out that she would need some kind of sledgehammer to pry it open. It didn’t matter which wire belonged to which telephone; she’d simply slash her way through the lot of them.
Dolly enjoyed the walk back to the house in the darkness. The air smelt good and clean, a light rain had fallen, the ground sparkled in the moonlight, and she smiled to herself as Harry talked to her in that low soft voice.
“Check everything out for yourself. Never leave anything to chance or to anyone else. Remember, Doll, look out for yourself.” Dolly stopped and his voice died. It was strange, because a new thought dawned on her. What if it had been her voice that Harry had listened to? Maybe it had been Dolly who had quietly pushed him in the right direction. She had just never been given the credit. At least, not until it was too late.