She's Out (36 page)

‘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 couldn’t deal
with it. Right now, Angela was the least of his problems. He was afraid of what Dolly Rawlins wanted, scared he was heading even deeper into 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 him. And what was worse, she
saw Angela.

Mike yanked open the car door when she confronted him. ‘We got to talk, Mike.’

He got in and slammed it. ‘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.’

‘I lost the baby, Mike.’

‘I don’t care, Angela, you hear me? I
don’t care
.’

She was sobbing, looked 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, please stay away from me.
Go away, Angela
.’ He threw the money on to the pavement, and started the car.
She sobbed even louder and he hesitated, but then he saw the time: it was six fifteen. Although he was afraid to meet Dolly Rawlins he was also afraid not to, so he drove off.

Angela picked up the four twenty-pound notes, unaware that Susan was watching from the bedroom window. The two of them were crying. Susan knew it had to be the girl and she’d seen her
husband giving her money, which made it even worse. She wished she had enough money to get the locks changed there and then.

Gloria and Julia were both in the cesspit, still clearing away the filth. It was deep, and their heads appeared at the lip as Ester carried out two mugs.

‘All right for some,’ moaned Gloria, accepting the tea.

‘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 towards the house.

Gloria looked at Julia. ‘What if she’s got us diggin’ a bleedin’ grave? Just so long as Dolly Rawlins doesn’t intend finishing us all off. She shot her old man, you
know. I wouldn’t put nothing past her.’

Later that night, 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 saw her panties, 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 might be a very long night.

Dolly sipped the lemonade, flicking through her little black notebook. Mike stood over her as she looked up then smiled.

‘Nothing for me but 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. It’s up to you, Mike. Tell
me now if you don’t want to do it. You must have some old friends from the army days – they might be helpful, but if you don’t want to do it . . .’

‘I’ve just said so.’

‘Oh, I know you did, but you see, Mike, I don’t think you really believe that I’d be prepared to sell myself down the tubes. But I would, I’d go back inside and I
wouldn’t be on my own. You’d be sent down as well, and they might even get your mother back from Spain. You tell me now – can you get the information I need?’

He shuffled his feet, took another look round. ‘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 to continue the same route. He looked at the slip of paper she had passed him with the name of the security firm she had taken from the
vans she’d seen outside her local station. It was a well-known firm: he didn’t know if he could get any information from them. He needed a drink, a large one, to stop himself shaking.
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
towards it. She examined it, satisfied it was big enough and, most certainly, deep enough.

When she got in she found the kitchen in a mess: dirty soup plates, tinned mince on a pan left to one side, 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 blaring. Neither heard Dolly. She walked up the big staircase, 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 any more?’

‘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 double 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
exterior she showed to them all. They all had secrets, all had hidden pain. Somehow she had not expected Gloria to have so much.

C
onnie was doing up her blouse and Jim his trousers at the same time as he closed the gates for the nine-thirty express to pass through. John stood
at the level crossing, waiting, impatient that he’d just missed the orange light. As it turned to red, he looked at the signal box, as if to blame it for his being held up, and saw her,
laughing, her arms wrapped around the attendant. He was stunned. He kept blinking, sure he must have been mistaken. It wasn’t his Connie up there, was it?

Connie skipped down the steps, looked up and blew a kiss, then hurried towards the taxi rank. She was in the cab heading for the manor when the gates opened and didn’t see John charge up
the steps of the signal box or witness his embarrassment when Jim opened the door.

‘Connie here, is she?’ John blurted out.

Jim covered well. If she had been caught in there with him, he’d have been in trouble. Not that he knew who the big broad-shouldered bloke was. He just acted dumb.

‘No, nobody here but me, why?’

John looked past him into the hut. ‘No reason. Sorry, mate. Sorry to bother you.’

He walked down the steps, then stopped. Jim was still at the door. He wanted to say she was his, but decided against it. Better to make sure that she was before he threw his weight about.

Jim knew he’d have to ask Connie about the bloke but only when the time was right. They’d not even been out on a proper date yet. Half of him still couldn’t believe what had
taken place – he’d never experienced anything like it. Blown in his own signal box! But there was no one he could tell, especially not anyone from the company as he’d be fired on
the spot. It had happened though, and as if to assure himself that it really had he drew Connie’s lacy panties from his pocket.

‘Shit, I forgot me knickers,’ Connie said as she walked into the house, slamming the front door. They weren’t worth going back for. She called out she was
home, then hurried into the kitchen and began to draw on the back of an envelope everything she could remember. She was just finishing when she heard the front doorbell ring.

Ester came in, looking perplexed. ‘I didn’t hear a car, did you, Connie?’

‘No. Who do you think it is?’

Dolly appeared on the landing. ‘Answer it, Ester.’

Ester pushed Connie forward. ‘You answer, just in case.’

Dolly thumped down the stairs as the bell rang again. She went for the door and swung it open. Angela stood on the doorstep. ‘I’m sorry, I got no other place to go – thumbed a
lift back.’

‘Well, love, you can thumb one right out again,’ Dolly replied.

Connie felt sorry for Angela. ‘Ah, let her stay for just one night.’

Ester scowled. ‘You joking? No way, chuck her out, Dolly.’

‘Oh, please don’t! I’ll cook and clean, I promise.’

Dolly opened the door wider. ‘Right, one night. Go up on to the top floor. Your old room’s gone so use another, then come down and clean up the kitchen and make us some
dinner.’

Angela almost kissed her hand but Dolly stepped away, letting the door bang shut.

‘You must be mad,’ Ester said, going back into the drawing room.

Connie smiled at Angela but got pushed into the room by Dolly. ‘Give us a call when it’s ready, will you, love?’ Dolly said as she went into the drawing room.

Gloria clattered in. ‘I don’t fucking believe that girl’s cheek. I just seen her making up her bed.’

‘Just for tonight,’ Dolly said.

‘What? Are you crazy?’

Julia yawned. ‘Well, the kitchen’s a mess, the kids’ room’s a mess, we need somebody to cook, do all the ironing and washing, plus she’s going to cook dinner so
that should keep her occupied for one night, anyway.’

Dolly sat down, took out her notebook, and flicked through it.

‘Bit bleedin’ risky, isn’t it?’ Gloria said, warming herself by the fire. That boyfriend of hers – what if he’s sent her?’

Dolly looked up. ‘You want to hear him? He’s got problems, his wife . . . But so far he’s not made any calls to his station about us. I think we got the bloke by the
balls.’

They focused on Dolly as she took out the tape and slipped it into the small cassette player.

‘You got him taped?’ Ester said.

‘Didn’t I tell you? Have a listen.’

‘You got him taped at his house? What about at his nick? It’s not who’s he’s calling at his home that’d worry me but what he and his mates are doing.’

Dolly said nothing because she knew Ester was right.

They sat round listening to Susan and Mike arguing. They all laughed, apart from Ester, as if it was a joke. They even heard his kids yelling. Dolly left them to it, went to the kitchen to have
a private confab with Angela. She could feel Ester’s eyes on her and it unnerved her slightly, only because she knew Ester was right: Mike had also to be monitored at his station.

Angela was working herself into a sweat, washing dishes, scrubbing the floor, cleaning all the surfaces, as if to prove she was worth her keep.

‘You want to stay on, do you?’ Dolly asked, as she drew out a chair to sit at the kitchen table.

‘Yes. I’ll do anything to make up for what I done, anything. I know you won’t ever forgive me but . . .’ Angela sat opposite Dolly, trying to explain about the baby and
Mike, but Dolly took her hand.

‘Shut up. Now, are you still seeing him?’ Angela shook her head.

‘I see. Well, you might have to prove yourself, Angela – not just to me but to the others. Does he know you were driving that car that killed Jimmy Donaldson?’

‘No! I hate him, Dolly, really, I wouldn’t help him. I swear on my life I wouldn’t.’