She's Out (41 page)

Dolly jerked a thumb towards 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 entered and started talking to
Jim. She hitched up her skirt as she perched on the table and crooked her finger at him. ‘I got a present for you.’

Jim was a bit sheepish and hung-over. ‘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.’

Julia pressed the earpiece further into her ear. That’s what he’s just talking about. Must have been a quickie in-and-out job.’

Connie pulled down her skirt and stepped out of her panties as Jim closed the gates for a passenger train. He did not mess around when it came to working, he was very serious,
and Connie edged behind him to wrap her arms round his chest.

‘No, 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 towards the station as the train headed up the tracks.

‘I mean if there was an accident,’ she asked, sliding down so as not to 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.’

‘What about the live wire cable?’

She watched him as he went about his business, pulling the levers down, moving backwards and forwards across the hut.

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, waiting, and now he knew he was right – he could see her curly blonde hair. He was standing at the gates, his car engine ticking over,
when he looked up at the hut. He knew it was her. 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. He 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.

‘She’s my girlfriend.’ John moved towards Jim.

Jim looked at Connie in confusion ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing!’ she shrieked, pushing at John.

‘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 then went back at John.

‘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, within inches.

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 was so loud it screamed through the room. ‘Jesus Christ, it’s the fucking alarm!’ Ester yelled.

Jim’s face drained of colour. He shouted for Connie and John to get out as he dialled the station to report a false alarm. Connie saw him punch in each number and closed
her eyes, desperate to remember each one in order as John tried to haul her out. They could hear somebody shouting from the platform below. ‘Get out of here!’ Jim roared. If Connie or
John was 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 towards 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 to discuss it further as the other crossed 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 any more.’

‘Well, don’t blame it on me.’

John slammed on the brakes. ‘It’s over between us because I thought you were serious about me.’

‘Oh, do me a favour.’

‘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 . . . that I was seeing you, Connie. 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 and pushed at him with her hands, 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. He didn’t know how to handle her or what to say. He really thought she cared for him but, then, she’d ditched him the other day. ‘Why have
you led me on?’ he asked softly.

She slipped her arm around his big, wide shoulders, massaging the nape of his neck. ‘I’m just not ready to get serious about anyone, not yet.’

He shrugged her hand away. ‘Not as if you were 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 anything Lennie had ever given her. ‘I’m twenty-nine.’

‘Well, you got a good figure but I don’t think you can count, sweetheart. You’re not twenty-nine, I am.’

She didn’t know what to say. She just felt the tears welling up, trickling down her cheeks. She was thirty-five but he made her feel as if she was old and worn out. He had hurt her deeply
and she was incapable of even trying to come on to him. 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 I won’t rat on him. With you he’s gonna need every penny he can make unless you do more of those films you told me
about.’

She slammed the door shut hard and teetered off along the uneven road in her stilettos. John watched her perfect arse as she sashayed along, her perfect figure and her curly blonde hair. Then he
drove on, 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. Connie was trash, he’d sort of always known it,
and sometimes it takes a Connie to make you come to your senses.

Julia passed him as she returned to the manor, not realizing he had given Connie a lift back. She turned into the drive and pulled up alongside Connie, winding down the window. ‘I was sent
out to see if you needed any assistance.’

‘I obviously didn’t,’ snapped Connie, and continued towards the front door. She watched Julia head round to the stables before she let herself in, and ran up the stairs. She
couldn’t face any of them but Dolly caught her halfway. ‘Eh! You get the alarm codes? You set them off, didn’t you?’

Connie sniffed, refusing to turn back to her. ‘Yes, I got them, but right now I want to be alone.’

‘Right now, Connie love, we discuss it. Come down here.’

‘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. She felt it was all falling apart and it seemed, at times, that she was the only adult amongst them. She didn’t feel like
their mother in any way but she was beginning to think she should call it all off, get rid of the lot of them. She smiled then: she’d got the perfect place, she could push each one of them
into the lime pit.

Connie sat in front of her dressing table mirror, studying her face. Why had John said she looked old? ‘Maybe because you are old,’ she whispered, and then twisted her neck, pouting
her heroine’s smile. ‘Gonna be rich, though, and then you’ll be young and beautiful, and . . .’ She stared at herself and for the first time knew she would go through with
any robbery Dolly Rawlins had in mind. Rising out of her beloved Marilyn was a Connie that rarely appeared, the other side that she 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 dole out to her. She’d taken the punches, taken the shit, seemed like all her life
she’d taken the easy way out, and she wasn’t going to take any more. She pouted and then let her wide sexy lips close into a tight line. ‘Fuck you, Marilyn Monroe . . .’

Connie breathed on the mirror and, with the tip of her finger, traced the numbers Jim had called to contact the police station. All he’d said was that it was a false alarm. This was
valuable information; now 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 to write them down. She found her black eyebrow pencil and a piece of tissue, then closed her eves, 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 Stephens 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, those are the numbers. If the alarm goes off, we call that number.’

Dolly gave that odd smile. ‘You did good, darlin’, very good.’

Connie preened but there was no further praise as Dolly left the room, folding the tissue into her pocket.

She was pleased; it meant that the signal box telephone wires had to be beneath the hut and if all Jim had used was a telephone, all she had to do was cut the wires because the alarm would also
be connected to the central box.

Dolly went out alone later that night. 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 prise it open. It didn’t matter which wire belonged to which telephone; she’d simply hatchet 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 her expression wasn’t the usual
taut grimace but a sweet soft smile as he 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, as if
she knew she would never hear it again, because a new thought began to dawn. What if it had been her voice that Harry had listened to. It had been Dolly who had quietly put him in the right
direction. She had never been given the credit by him and had never acknowledged how much he had listened to her. Perhaps not until it was too late. But by then she had been betrayed and he had
forgotten his own warnings. He could never have anticipated that she would kill him.

M
ike had a few beers with Colin. He’d called him to say that the prearranged dinner would have to be on another night as there were problems
at work; some of his mates had got flu so he was doing extra night shifts.

They talked for a while about the army but then Colin switched the subject to Mike possibly being taken on at his company.

‘Yeah, well, you know, Colin, I’ve been thinking about it, but it sounds like it’d bore the pants off me. I’m not into schleppin’ around in a security wagon all day
with a few drops here and there.’

Colin downed his pint. ‘You got it wrong, Mike, this isn’t that kind of company. Like I told you, we handle the big stuff.’ He leaned in and lowered his voice. ‘We
deliver the sacks to the mail trains. Ever since they had the big robberies at the main stations, we were brought in. You know about them?’