Bella was the first to arrive at Birling Gap. The beach was deserted. She heaved the bike back on its stand and walked to the edge of the cove. The tide was out. She smiled; Dolly would have factored in the tide patterns. Dolly thought of everything. Bella made her way down the small wooden-stepped path onto the main beach. A couple of old boats lay rotting on their side, and, about twenty yards up ahead, was an old rusting Morris Minor with no wheels, the seats torn and covered in seaweed. Again, Bella smiled, this time at the thought of some stupid tourists parking on the beach for a lovely picnic before being stranded by the incoming tide. They would have been forced to go up the way she had just come down. The kids round here could strip a car in thirty minutes, she thought.
As she walked up and down the beach, inhaling the fresh air, Bella sized up their training ground. She was glad Linda wasn’t there yet; it gave her time to focus and prepare the area without being interrupted by Linda going on about her shagathon or about Tony Fisher or about how much of a nag Dolly was. She began collecting driftwood to mark out the run they would have to make with the money on their backs. Bella wanted to do this properly, without interruption.
By the time Linda arrived, the run from the security wagon to the getaway car was all marked out in the sand. Bella looked up to the gravel track as the Capri braked sharply, pebbles flying up as it skidded to a stop. She waved to Linda, who began unloading sacks and blankets from the boot to carry down the steps.
When she reached the beach, Linda threw the armful of goods onto the sand. She was already moaning. “What’s she picked this place for, I don’t know. She must be barmy! How’re we gonna rehearse the raid here?”
The fresh wind had put some color into Linda’s ashen face and was blowing her dark curly hair all over the place. Linda had an odd face with a hawk nose, high cheekbones and dark, lively eyes. She could veer from downright plain-looking to an angular beauty. With her big gob shut, thought Bella, she is quite beautiful.
“I spoke to Dolly.” Bella said, ignoring Linda’s complaints. “She’s up to speed about Tony Fisher and Boxer Davis. I said we need to talk about it first thing today, before we get stuck into rehearsals.”
“You heard from Shirl?” Linda asked. She seemed genuinely concerned.
“Dolly picked up on that while I finished my shift at the club. Shirley will be fine.” Bella’s glib reassurance was exactly what Linda needed. She’d been unable to focus on Carlos at all last night for worrying and they’d only shagged once in the end; not their usual standards at all. Carlos had been very understanding and had settled for cuddling instead. It was a shame about poor old Boxer being beaten up, but at least they needn’t worry about him anymore. But Tony Fisher—he was still a big worry.
“’Ere, I had a brain wave!” Suddenly cheerful, Linda ran to the pile of stuff she’d brought down from the boot of her car. She came back to Bella with the rucksacks, three pillowcases, two plastic buckets shaped like a castle and two spades. “I thought—why lug bricks from the lock-up when we got what we need right here?” Linda filled a pillowcase with sand and put that into the rucksack. “Not just a pretty face, am I, eh, Bel?” Linda picked up a blanket and laid it out at one end of the track Bella had marked out in the sand with driftwood. She scooped sand onto each corner of the blanket to hold it in place.
“What’s that meant to be?” Bella asked.
“That’s the security van! And later, it’ll be for our picnic. Two birds with one stone, see.” Bella loved this childlike side to Linda; she was a real laugh when she wanted to be.
Up on the gravel track, Shirley’s car pulled to a slow and steady stop. No gravel was flung up from the tires the way Shirley drove. Bella and Linda watched as she carefully picked her way down the uneven wooden steps to the beach. She was carrying her stuff in high street shopping bags and wearing one of the very feminine jumpsuits that Dolly had said were no good. She looked like she’d just come from Kensington High Street.
“I must ask her where she got that jumpsuit from. I reckon it’d suit me,” Linda mocked.
Bella looked Linda up and down. She was wearing ripped jeans, dirty plimsolls and a huge jumper that must once have belonged to Joe. “Well—you look like a scarecrow in that gear,” Bella commented with a smile.
“I’m dressed for the occasion, I’ll have you know,” said Linda. “This is my ‘rehearsing for a hare-brained robbery’ outfit.”
As Shirley got to the bottom of the steps and tiptoed through the sand so as not to get any in her still-pristine plimsolls, their smiles faded. The split to Shirley’s lower lip and the surrounding bruise was visible from ten feet away. They raced forward.
“Tony bleedin’ Fisher,” Shirley said.
Bella and Linda took the shopping bags and dumped them on the bonnet of the old Morris Minor.
“I wish I’d brought a heavier jacket,” Shirley said. “I think it’s going to rain.”
“Forget that!” Bella snapped. “What happened?”
Shirley’s eyes filled with tears and she fought to keep them back. “Please, Bella. I only want to say it once, so let’s wait for Dolly.” She walked away to stand at the shore edge, looking out to sea. Taking her lead, Bella and Linda left her alone and continued to get the beach set up for their rehearsal.
By the time Dolly arrived in her Mercedes, the beach was ready and the rain had started belting down. Dolly stood at the top of the cove and looked down at the outline of the fifty-yard run Bella had marked out with driftwood; it was like looking at the drawing in Harry’s ledgers. The picnic blanket represented the security wagon, and several abandoned pallets had been laid out in front of it to represent the “blocking van,” with the Morris behind it representing their transit van. Three full rucksacks sat on top of the Morris’s bonnet. At the far end of the run more pallets signified their getaway car. Linda and Shirley were seated inside the Morris sheltering from the rain, and Dolly could see enough of Shirley to know that she was wearing that bloody catwalk jumpsuit. She could hear the pair of them laughing and giggling, while Bella wandered round the wet sand collecting more driftwood.
They were worryingly close to the date of the robbery and Dolly was overwhelmed with worry. Linda had yet to find a suitable large vehicle to be used to stop the security wagon and Dolly was yet to get the actual route plan and times off Harry’s inside man. As the girls’ laughter echoed round the cove, Dolly wondered if she was the only one taking this seriously. Were the others just using her as a cash cow to replenish their wardrobes, get them freebies at health spas and pay for the upkeep of their vodka stash?
In a bad mood now, she made her way slowly down to the beach. The picnic hamper she’d brought was heavy so it was slow going; she was also carrying an umbrella and Wolf kept getting under her feet. Linda watched her make her way toward them and shook her head with annoyance. Again, they had done all the hard work—and here she was arriving like the Queen Mother on a day out at Sandringham.
“Bella!” Linda shouted and nodded toward Dolly. Bella turned and waved a large lump of driftwood. From where Dolly stood, it looked uncannily like a sawed-off shotgun.
Dolly gestured to Linda to come and join her.
“Yes, ma’am,” Linda mocked as she clambered out of the Morris. “On my way, ma’am.” She glanced back at Shirley and winked. “Wolf’s probably done a shit and she wants me to pick it up.” Shirley gave a wan smile.
As Linda plodded over toward Dolly, she suddenly felt miserable. Her hair was dripping wet and Joe’s jumper was now twice as big and heavy as it had been when she put it on this morning. She was waterlogged, unlike Dolly, who was as immaculate as ever in her matching raincoat and wellies. She looked Dolly in the eye.
“Bella told you about poor old Boxer getting done over,” she said petulantly.
Dolly nodded, handed the picnic blanket to Linda, and kept on the move. Linda followed close behind her.
“What you gonna do about it, Dolly? Tony Fisher’s a nutcase and—”
Linda shook her head. She felt a twinge of guilt for lying to Dolly, but what bleedin’ business was it of hers anyway?
“You’re still seeing him, aren’t you?” Dolly pushed.
Linda shook her head, but now Dolly stepped closer.
“You worry me, Linda. You drink too much and when you do, you say all kinds of things to all kinds of people.” Dolly was referring to the night Linda had spilled the beans to Bella in the arcade. “I need to be sure there’s no pillow talk going on between you and some random fella off the streets.” Dolly knew full well that Carlos wasn’t random at all; she knew from her short conversation with Boxer that Carlos was Arnie’s bum boy.
“Oh, believe me, we didn’t do no talking.” Linda quipped, trying to make light of things.
Dolly’s stony glare told Linda that she wasn’t in the mood.
“Look, Dolly, he was a one-night stand; there was nothing in it. I’ve not seen him since, just like you told me, I’ve kept meself to meself, all right? There’s no one.”
Dolly looked at Linda hard, trying to detect if she was lying, but Linda held her gaze. Dolly toyed with the idea of telling Linda exactly who Carlos was, and telling her that she knew Linda was with Carlos on the night Tony went on his rampage—but that would ruin the day’s plans. No, Dolly needed to focus today. She walked round Linda and headed for Bella. Linda followed close behind, unable to zip her mouth.
“Don’t change the subject from what I asked you,” she whined. “What you gonna do about the Fishers? Old Boxer must have run straight to ’em, just like you said—only now look where he is!”
“He was a fool, Linda. And fools don’t know what’s good for ’em.”
Linda dropped the hamper on the picnic blanket and continued after Dolly.
Realizing that all three women needed reassurance, Dolly went on, loud enough for them all to hear: “I never meant for anything to happen to him and we don’t know it was the Fishers who got to him. It could have been an accident; he was pissed as a fart when I spoke to him earlier in the evening. I’m well aware of the problems we got, but we still got a job to do here today. And it ain’t my job to keep Boxer safe. It’s my job to keep you lot safe.”
Linda clenched her teeth, making the muscles in her cheeks visibly jump. “Well, you ain’t doing a very good job of that either.” She looked at Shirley.
Shirley had her head down, trying to hide her split lip, but Dolly had seen it and the look on her face made Linda smirk in triumph. After a pause that seemed to last an age, Dolly went over to Shirley and lifted her chin with her hand.
“What happened to your lip, darlin’?” she asked softly.
Shirley hesitated. “It’s nothing.” She looked down again.
Dolly repeated the question.
Tears welled up in Shirley’s eyes. “Tony Fisher grabbed me off the street and took me to my mum’s place. He said he wanted to know about your Harry’s ledgers. I was terrified and told him I didn’t know nothing. He threatened to burn me with a cigarette and kept insisting that I must know. I kept on saying, ‘I don’t! I don’t know anything!’ Then he got angry and punched me in the mouth. Oh, God, his hands were all over me, inside my clothes and . . .” As Shirley let it all out she threw herself into Dolly’s arms, sobbing. Nobody said a word. It was Dolly who broke the silence.
“Did he . . . darlin’, what did he do?”
Shirley regained control of herself. “Greg showed up with his two mates. Tony would have raped me, I know he would. He said as much. But I didn’t tell him nothing about us, Dolly. I didn’t tell him about Harry’s ledgers or about what we’re doing. I swear I didn’t.”
Dolly got out a hanky and wiped the tears from Shirley’s eyes. “I know you didn’t, love,” she said. “Don’t worry about that. I’m so sorry for what that bastard did to you and believe me, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” Dolly glanced at Bella and Linda. “We keep this between us, OK? No police, no repercussions. We’re all going to be just fine.”
Dolly picked up one of the rucksacks from the back seat of the Morris. “Too heavy—take some sand out. We’re carrying bank notes, not gold bullion.” The conversation was closed.
Linda couldn’t believe how quickly Dolly had glossed over Shirley’s near-rape, but Shirley jumped out of the Morris and started tipping some of the sand back out.
“About a quarter, I reckon, love, that should do it,” Dolly advised.
Shirley smiled at Dolly and Linda understood that focusing on the practical was exactly what Shirley needed. Bella also saw this, but she realized that Dolly was hiding something—and that something was fear. Dolly was worried. She decided to say nothing: she, too, would focus on the practical.
“We thought we’d use the Morris as our tailing van.” Bella said. “So we can practice getting in and out. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than a picnic blanket. And I can cut it up later, get used to using the chainsaw.”
“Good idea,” Dolly said. “The chainsaw and the sledgehammer are both in the boot of the Merc. I couldn’t carry everything in one go.”
“Don’t worry about them, Doll,” Linda said sarcastically “We’re only rehearsing for an armed robbery. Who needs a chainsaw and sledgehammer, when you brought pork pie and sarnies?”
“And who needs a blocking van, when you brought a picnic blanket?” Dolly snapped back. “At least I’ve got a chainsaw and sledgehammer, Linda, you got the van yet? I’ve already asked you a number of times to sort it, so pull your finger out and get it done. We need to know what size it is so we can reinforce the rear bumper with a steel bar.”
Linda was fuming inside, but a touch on the arm from Bella made her bite her tongue. She took a couple of deep breaths and then replied. “I know exactly what I’m looking for. I got a couple of possibles lined up, but want to give it another week.” She spoke in a slow, controlled voice. “You’ll have your van soon enough.”
As Dolly headed off to walk through the fifty-yard run with Bella, Linda said under her breath to Shirley, “I ain’t risking jail for nicking a crappy old van just cos she’s got some ridiculous fantasy about an armed robbery.”
Shirley touched her split lip. It stung every time she spoke and opened up every time she smiled. “I hope it’s not a fantasy, Linda.” Shirley said gravely. “I want better than this.”
Bella and Dolly marched to the far end of the fifty-yard run, using long strides to make certain the distance was correct.
“That feels about right,” Dolly said. As she started the walk back, Bella stayed still. Dolly turned.
“What’s worrying you?”
“Feels real.”
“It is real,” said Dolly. “Always was.”
“For you,” Bella said. “I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t even know who you were, Dolly Rawlins. You could have been some eccentric old woman grieving for her dead husband for all I knew. Keeping him alive by recreating what should have been his finest hour.” Bella caught up with Dolly. “But you got me now. I’ve bought in, I’m going to give you a hundred percent and we’re actually going to steal a million pounds.” Bella stared deep into Dolly’s eyes and gave her a smile of absolute respect. Dolly had a lot on her shoulders and Bella wanted her to know that she was there to help.
Dolly’s expression remained impassive. She gave a little nod of understanding, turned and walked back to the others. “Less of the ‘old,’” she said over her shoulder.
Back with Linda and Shirley, Dolly got down to business.
“Let’s get cracking. Linda, you’ll be driving the van behind the security wagon with me and Shirley in the back. The clapped-out Morris is our van for today, so just mime it through for timings.”
Linda snorted, and looked at the rusty wreck of a car. “Well, I wasn’t thinkin’ of racin’ it up and down the effin’ beach.”
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“Bella, you’ll be driving the blocking van up front. The one that Linda is hopefully gonna pull her finger out and get—”
Linda interrupted, “All right, you made your point. No need to hark on about it.”
“You two—” Dolly ordered Bella and Linda—“go and get the chainsaw and sledgehammer. Let’s see how ready we are.”
Once all the equipment was assembled and everyone was back on the beach, Dolly gathered them round for further instructions. Shirley was shaking her legs, warming up the muscles; Linda, in contrast, was perched in the bonnet of the Morris. Dolly addressed Linda first.
“We’ll practice getting out of the car and starting up the chainsaw first of all, and trying it out on the side of the wreck—”
Before Dolly could finish, Linda butted in. “Bella’s doin’ the saw, Dolly. That’s Bella’s job. You just said I was drivin’ the van.”
Dolly tapped the wet sand with her welly and shook her head. “I’ve changed me mind,” she said. “Bella drives the front van and I’ll drive the van behind.”
“But that’s bloody stupid,” Linda persisted. “Bella’s the only one of us so far that’s been able to handle the saw. I can hardly lift it . . . And I thought you was in the front truck doin’ the blockin’?”
Dolly sighed, clenching and unclenching her hands. “I’ve changed me mind!” she repeated aggressively. “Once the security wagon has gone into the back of the front vehicle, Bella has to get out of the blocking van and hold the guards at bay with the shotgun while we load the cash. She’ll also have to be the last to leave. Unless I say different, that’s the position she takes. Right?”
“Fine by me,” Bella said impatiently, wanting to get on with it.
The rain had stopped now, and Dolly took her coat off to reveal a pink Dance Center tracksuit. Linda and Shirley bowed their heads to hide their giggles. She looked like a hideous pair of velour curtains. Linda imagined her at the Sanctuary, bouncing about in an aerobics class, sweating like a fat fluffy pink pig. Oblivious, Dolly took a stopwatch out of her pocket and handed it to Bella, then folded her coat neatly and placed it on the picnic blanket.
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