by Stan Mason
‘I understand all right,’ he told her point-blank. ‘You ran off with a criminal and when he dumped you, penniless and homeless, you come crawling back to me. Well I’m not interested, Liz. You can go to hell!’
‘But we loved each other,’ she pleaded lamely. ‘We spent all those years together.’
‘More fool me. You damned well destroyed my life. You had an affair with the man for six months before dumping me to go off with him. Now that it hasn’t worked out, you come crawling back to me. It’s not good enough, Liz. You know my mother’s either got a crystal ball or a fantastic intuition. She said you’d come crawling back.’
‘Your mother!’ she sneered.
‘Yes, my mother! I suppose you’re now going to ask me to take you back, house you and feed you. Well you’ve got another think coming. This house has been sold and it’s my last night here. The divorce is going through... and I am totally rid of you. You know you hurt me in that note you left me, saying you never loved me. Well I’m turning the tables on you because I don’t love you any more.’
‘I have no money. Neil and nowhere to go. You’ve got to help me. I’m still your wife!’
‘Only just... but not for very long!’ He took his wallet from his jacket and took out a twenty pound note. ‘This is the last you’ll get from me. You’re on your own, Liz. You won’t find me after tomorrow. I’ll be gone.’
‘Look, Neil,’ she went on pathetically. ‘You don’t know what I’ve been through. We were on the run all the time in New York with the police chasing us everywhere. Cole took all the money I had, and he ran off. I’ve had to beg and borrow to get back here. Please... show some mercy. I beg you. At least let me stay here tonight. That’s all I’m asking.’
Before he had a chance to answer, a car drew up and stopped outside. Paula climbed out to notice Waverley’s wife standing on the doorstep looking forlorn and she assessed the situation quickly before walking up to her.
‘So the prodigal woman returns. You look much more tired than your photograph on the mantelshelf inside. I thought you were living it up in New York with your new-found boyfriend..’
‘Who are you?’ demanded Elizabeth angry at the intervention.
Paula refrained from answering the question. ‘You don’t think that Neil would be hanging around waiting for you to come back, did you?’
Elizabeth turned to her husband bitterly. ‘You didn’t wait long to get me out of your system, did you?’
‘Surely you didn’t expect me to grieve for you for the rest of my life,’ he reproached with an element of irony creeping into his voice. ‘The world doesn’t revolve around you, Liz. And your world’s no longer my world!‘’
‘It’s not you talking like that, it’s your mother, isn’t it.’
‘Face up to it, Elizabeth,’ taunted Paula sharply. ‘You’re not wanted here any longer. Neil’s out of your life and he’s is mine. You had your chance and you blew it.’
Elizabeth paused to consider her situation which was extremely dire... no money... no home... no one to take care of her. Subsequently she burst into tears but it had no affect on her husband. He had gone through hell in those few weeks after she had left him. Now he was hardened to anything she might want from him.
‘What am I going to do?’ she asked pitifully.
‘I really don’t know,’ stated her husband. ‘But quite truthfully, I don’t really care. Or as Clark Gable said to Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind... “Frankly my dear, I don’t care a damn!” I suggest that you go find a place somewhere else for the night.’
‘Maybe you could earn some money on the streets,’ intervened Paula coldly. ‘I mean that’s where you belong. You know exactly how to sell your wares.’
Elizabeth looked at the other woman fiercely before realising there was no point in arguing on the doorstep with two people who clearly detested her and were unwilling to help her in her plight, so she turned and walked slowly and tearfully away. The tables had been turned on her and her life was in an utter mess. It would continue to be that way for some considerable time... there was no doubt about that.
Paula followed the banker back into the house and sat down on the settee in the lounge.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked a little too curtly for her liking.
‘I was just passing by,’ she told him, ‘I saw your car parked outside. Then I noticed your wife on the doorstep so I stopped to find out what was going on.’
‘Probably just as well you did,’ he told her candidly. ’I don’t think I could have resisted her for a long period of time. She is my wife dammit and we did spend all those years together.’
‘Take it easy!‘ she responded trying to calm him for she knew that he felt rotten having turned his wife away in her hour of need. ‘Don’t put yourself down. You were doing a pretty good job of turning her away when I got here.’
’You know I can hardly stop my hands from shaking,’ he admitted.
’We’re nearly there now,’ she explained easily. ‘Just calm down and take it easy. You’ve nothing to worry about. We’re almost home.’
’Except for the robbery,‘ he said glumly. ‘The first thing I must do is to pay in this cheque into my account at the Swiss Bank and then go to the bank for the robbery to take place.’
’It’ll all be over in just a few hours. I’ve sold both our cars,‘ she informed him. They’ll be picked up from here at five o’clock today. At that time, we’ll phone for a taxi to take us to the railway station. Then off by train to Manchester Airport.’
‘I can’t wait,’ he uttered eagerly wishing that the time had passed already.
‘Well you won’t have to wait long. I presume you came home to pack?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Well what are you hanging around here for?’ she chided gently. ‘There’s work to be done!’
She went to the door , waving her hand behind her as she left. ‘See you at five o’clock!’ she called out with an element of amusement.
Waverley found it anything but funny. He had suddenly become all nerves so he made himself a strong cup of coffee before pulling himself together. He had to be master of his own destiny or he would be doomed. He kept repeating the phrase until its full meaning came through to him. Yes... he had to be master of his own destiny! He had to be the master of his own destiny!
***
The four bank robbers met at Sam’s father’s house ready to undertake the raid. They felt extremely vulnerable at not being able to take their weapons, although Brad secreted one in the rear of the van in case of need. He had never shot a man before but there was always a possibility that someone would be foolish enough to try and stop them. In that case, he wanted to be prepared to defend himself and he put a small wooden cosh in his back pocket in case of need. Then Wilson muttered something incoherently and they followed him out to the van and climbed in.
‘Is everyone ready to get some decent money for a change?’ asked Wilson trying to raise morale. ‘What say you?‘
They all shouted their assent before settling down. Ginger started the vehicle and drove off towards the Prescot Bank in the City of London.
‘It’s definitely in my mind... ,’ uttered Sam without finished the sentence.
‘That makes a change,’ snarled Brad wickedly. ‘There’s nothing else in it usually.’
‘Very funny. I don’t think!’ snapped Sam curtly.
‘Let’s get things absolutely clear,’ said Wilson firmly. No one’s to wear a ski-mask.’’
‘We haven’t brought them with us,’ stated Sam quickly.
‘We go into the bank without guns,’ went on the leader inanely for they knew that already.
‘We were told not to,’ cut in Brad. ‘That’s why we haven’t brought any. But I’ve got a small cosh in my back ‘pocket... just
for protection.’
‘Okay,’ continued Wilson. ‘Let’s go through it just to be clear. Sam and I go to the end of the banking hall separately as though we’re customers and we walk down the stairs. Someone should be there with the keys and the codes. In the meantime, Brad wheels in the small trolley with empty cardboard boxes on it. If anyone asks him or stops him, he just says: “Stationery ordered yesterday.” He’ll get to the lift and go down with the trolley that’s already inside. After the safe door’s opened, we put the money from the safe on the trolley and it goes up with Brad in the lift. He tosses the cardboard boxes off the small trolley and puts the ones from the safe on it before wheeling it out slowly from the bank. He puts everything on the van, including the small trolley, and we all drive away rich men. Does everyone know what to do?’
‘What happens if someone gets in the way?’ asked Ginger making his presence felt.
‘We just donk him on the noddle,’ related Sam easily.
‘Right!’ said Wilson firmly ‘Let’s get to it. You stand by Ginger. Move the car outside the bank in five minutes time. We’ll need to get away fast.’
They drove to the bank and climbed out of the car with the except of Ginger to make their way across the road to the bank. Inside, there were a number of people keeping the cashiers busy as Wilson and Sam entered and sauntered slowly to the end of the banking hall. They descended the stairs as Brad come in with the small trolley and walked slowly to the lift. He was relieved to notice that all the cashiers were far too busy to notice him. He entered the lift and pressed the button to go down. At the door of the safe stood Waverley with the two keys required in his hand. Sam looked at him closely focussing on the bank manager’s lips. There was something about them that he recognised but in the heat of the moment he was forced to let it pass. Waverley then passed both of the keys to Wilson and gave him a piece of paper with both codes on it. The bank robber opened the safe within thirty seconds and pushed the internal gate open. He stared at the five large plastic boxes which were supposed to contain banknotes and nodded to Sam and Brad to load them on the trolley from the lift. It took them only a few seconds to accomplish the task but just after Waverley closed the safe door, Brad took the cosh from his back pocket and struck the banker on the back of his head. Waverley fell unconsciously in a heap and Sam stared at his colleague strangely.
‘What did you do that for?’ he enquired completely perplexed.
‘I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t want a share of the loot,’ replied Brad. ‘It’s best this way. It’ll give us time to get out of here.’
Sam shrugged his shoulders aimlessly as his colleague took the lift up to the banking hall, pushed aside the empty cardboard boxes on the small trolley to replace them with the large plastic boxes from the safe. He then rolled the small trolley towards the door slowly, waving to the cashiers and smiling as he went. Outside, Ginger had brought the van directly outside the bank and had opened the rear doors. The boxes were tossed inside followed by the trolley. Then the doors were shut, and the bank robbers climbed in and drove off slowly so as not to attract attention. The robbery was over in a flash and the operation was totally successful.
‘Wow!’ gloated Wilson as they drove away. ‘That went like a dream,’ He cast his eyes over the five large plastic boxes with delight. ‘No alarms... no police cars... nothing” Sweet as a nut!’ He turned to the others. ‘Not bad, eh?’
Sam starting singing a song of victory and they all joined in all the way to the warehouse where they were going to store the money and sleep there that night.
Outside the safe door at the bank, Waverley came to shortly and touched the back of his head tenderly, screwing up his face in pain. The injury was totally unexpected as he considered that the bank robbers would simply vanish with the loot and be grateful for the opportunity granted to them by him. He managed to reach the staircase and somehow crawl to the top. Once there, he staggered along the banking hallway and then collapsed in a heap on the floor. One of the cashiers rushed out to help him and examined the cut on his head, stemming the blood with her handkerchief.
‘Get an ambulance?’ she called out to the other cashiers.
‘What happened?’ asked one of the customers.
‘I don’t know,’ replied the cashier, ‘but we have to get him to a hospital.
The ambulance came shortly and he was taken to St. Mary’s hospital. He came to after a while to discover that his head had been bandaged while the pain was quite severe.
‘Don’t worry,’ a nurse informed him. ‘Take these pain killers and you’ll soon feel better. You got a nasty knock on the head.’
‘But I’ve a flight to catch,’ he muttered ‘I’ve got to get to the airport.’
‘You’re going nowhere,’ he was told sharply. ‘Just lay back and rest.’
He did as he was told, wincing at the pain in his head. At the point of victory, this was all going wrong. The plan was for them to be on a train to Manchester and there was no way he could let Paula know that he was in hospital. Indeed, she had planned everything so precisely but Murphy’s Law had made itself evident. If anything could go wrong, it would go wrong! There was only one way to resolve the matter. He sat up painfully in bed touching the bandages which were swathed around his head and asked the nurse for a telephone. Reluctantly she brought one into the ward. After she had left, he sat there trying to think of Paula’s mobile number for quite some time and then it fell into place. He dialled and she answered at the other end of the line.
‘Paula!’ he muttered. ‘One of those stupid bank robbers hit me over the head and I’m in St. Mary’s hospital. I can’t see me getting out of here for a while. What do we do?’
She paused to think for a moment. ‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m coming over right away. Let’s hope your condition’s not too bad. I’ll be with you shortly.’
She was true to her word, not wishing to be baulked in her plan to get away and she turned up at the hospital twenty minutes later holding a small suitcase.
‘I’ve come to see Mr. Waverley,’ she told the Receptionist.
‘Are you related?’ came the question.
‘I’m his wife,’ lied Paula blatantly, intending to see him by whatever means she had to use.
‘He’s in Ward Eight. Down the corridor, third on the left, Mrs. Waverley.’
Paula stared at the woman for a few seconds enjoying the moment. Mrs. Waverley! Now that was something to relish. Maybe in time it would be that way! She went on her way to the Ward and entered to face the nurse attending to Waverley who was drinking some water.
‘I’m Mrs. Waverley. How long do you intend to keep him here?’ she asked the nurse point-blank.
‘Just overnight. The doctor will see him in the morning. He took a sharp blow to the back of the head but fortunately there was no fracture of the skull. He’s in shock at the moment. I’ll come back later.‘
She left the room and Paula went up to the banker. ‘How are your feeling?’ she asked, sitting in the chair by the side of the bed.
‘Sorry to mess up the plan.’ he told her. ‘It was all going so well. That idiot of a bank robber who hit me on the head has unwittingly put a spanner in the works.’
‘Well these things happen,’ she returned quietly, ‘Do you think you’re well enough to walk?’
‘I think so. It’s just the pain in my head that killing me.’
He pulled back the blanket. placed his feet on the floor, still sitting on the bed, and then tried to stand up. He managed to do so shakily and she stood up and took his arm to support him. After a few moments, he strode around a little unsettled, improving all the time. Paula opened her suitcase and took out a green cap and an apron on the same colour which she placed on Waverley’s head and around his body.
‘Do you feel you can walk to the exit?’ she asked him.
‘I can but try,’ he replied with a pained expression on his face.
She picked up her suitcase, held him by the arm, and slowly walked down the corridor pausing when she arrived near to the Receptionist’s desk. The woman turned away from her post for a few moments, at which time Paula led Waverley past the area to the exit and they got to her car and climbed in.
‘I’m beginning to feel much better,’ he told her as he sat in the passenger’s seat. ‘It was just the shock of it.’
‘I took my suitcase to your house earlier,’ she told him with an element of urgency in her voice. ‘Let’s get you back there for yours. We’ve a train and a plane to catch.‘
‘Yes,’ he repeated. ‘A train and a plane to catch.’ He winced as the pain struck through his head again and he touched the bandage instinctively. ‘I wish that bank robber hadn’t hit me so hard!’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ she responded, ‘but what can you expect from an amateur?’
‘You realise that by disappearing, the bank will suspend my pension. I mean I could have been written off as permanently sick to receive a reasonable sum every month.’
‘We don’t need it!’ she told him flatly. ‘Not any more. We’re relatively wealthy people.’
‘You haven’t told me the place where we’re going to end up yet,’ he advanced suddenly realising that he was leaving London for good.
‘I suppose now is as good a time as ever,’ she informed him smiling as she drove towards his house. ‘I’ve put a small deposit on an apartment in Buenos Aires.’
‘Buenos Aires!’ he repeated with astonishment. ‘In Argentina!’
‘The photographs show it to be a roomy place and it was going cheap. I bought it on the Internet. We’ll be able to the tango any time you like.’
‘What will we do there?’ he asked completely stunned.
‘You’d be surprised. It may be at the foot of South America but it’s extremely lively. I’ve no doubt that we’ll soon be part of the social set.’