She's Out

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She's Out Page 17

by Lynda La Plante


  John didn’t like the sound of it, but what could he do? His workers were less stoical about it, immediately downing tools and walking off the site, saying they would come back when he paid up.

  The house, with the scaffolding and debris surrounding the grounds, looked in an even more dilapidated condition than before. Loose tiles had been thrown from the roof, the chimneys were still at a dangerous angle, windows were out in some rooms, sections of the front of the house had no plaster, leaving the rough old bricks exposed. It was a depressing sight, but Dolly didn’t let it dampen her spirits: not only was some money coming her way, but she had impressed the social services.

  Audrey, in a state of nerves matched only by her son’s, gathered all the money she could lay her hands on. At least Dolly still had no knowledge of Mike’s part and, thankfully for him, neither did the police. DCI Craigh had played down Mike’s part to the Chief and the fact that the police had succeeded in tracing the stolen gems at Donaldson’s antique shop had been swept under the carpet.

  Traffic, however, had been pressured to trace the car that killed Donaldson and now, with the incentive to pull out all stops, they really went to work. They had only a part registration and a vague description of the vehicle, but they checked on paint color co-ordination with both Rover and Volvo companies, their computers triggering further developments as they began slowly to narrow down the make and year of the vehicle. All they required was time.

  Julia knew that she would be in deep trouble if she returned to London. But Ester was set on leaving: “You do what the hell you like.”

  Julia had flounced out of the house and taken herself off to the local pub. She ordered a double Scotch on the rocks and leaned on the bar. Across the room, seated at one of the bay windows, was Norma Hastings, wearing jodhpurs and a hacking jacket. She looked at her curiously from behind her newspaper. Norma was an attractive woman, thick red hair, a pleasant round face and obviously fit: her cheeks had that ruddy glow. In comparison, Julia looked pale, her skinny frame mannish and her long, wiry brown hair like an unruly mop-head. Norma continued to watch her, pretending to read the paper, until she could not be bothered to hide her interest any longer and tossed the paper aside. She reckoned she was right about the gangly woman at the bar—it was rare that she wasn’t. It was also clear she was unhappy, ordering one double Scotch after another, knocking them back in one gulp, then staring at the polished wood counter. As she dug into her pockets to count out the cash to pay the barman, Norma also couldn’t help noticing her perfect, tight arse in her skin-tight trousers.

  As Julia’s boots were mud-spattered, Norma reckoned it would be a good opener to ask if she liked to ride—horses, of course, not herself; at least not yet. She wasn’t often so blatant about it—in her job she couldn’t be. If the Metropolitan Police knew that one of their mounted officers was gay . . . she could only imagine the snide cracks. She’d had enough of them just being a woman, without them knowing she was a lesbian as well.

  Norma decided to go for it and walked toward the bar, but her confidence slipped as Julia turned to her. She had not expected such dark, angry eyes. “Hello, I’m Norma Hastings.” She put out her hand.

  “Are you now. Good for you,” said Julia sarcastically.

  Norma was undeterred. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Why not? Double Scotch.”

  An hour later, Julia’s cheeks were as flushed as Norma’s, not from fresh air but from all the alcohol. She felt really very tipsy as the two climbed over a gate and into a field with a couple of grazing horses.

  “She’s called Helen of Troy and if you can stable her, I’ll provide the feed. It’s just that I’ve got Caper and he’s a bit of a handful.” Norma pointed to a three-year-old stallion and then smiled at the quietly grazing Helen of Troy.

  Julia pressed her cheek against Helen’s nose. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  “Well, I even put an advert in the local papers but I’ve had no offers yet. I was going to let the local riding school have her—she’s still got a lot of life in her.”

  Julia was still plastered as she wove her way along the manor’s drive. She wasn’t alone. Dolly looked out from the drawing-room window. “Oh my Gawd!” she exclaimed.

  “What?” asked Kathleen, trying to remove a bursting hoover bag.

  “Julia’s only gone and got a horse.”

  Gloria peered up into Helen’s face. “Cor blimey, it’s enormous this, isn’t it?”

  Connie reached out to stroke the horse and then stepped back as Norma drove up in a clapped-out Land Rover. “I’ve brought her tack and feed. Is that the stable?” she asked, hopping down.

  The women looked at one another, not sure what was going on, as now Dolly and Kathleen came to the kitchen door.

  “Hi, Dolly. This is Norma and this is Helen of Troy.” Julia grinned like a schoolgirl. “She’s been given to us, for free.”

  “Oh, yeah . . .” Dolly looked on as Angela squeezed out, running over to the horse.

  Norma walked over and gave Dolly a bone-crushing handshake. “She’ll be marvelous with kids. She’s thirteen years old, retired now, but if you’re opening this as a children’s home she’ll be ideal. You can drop a bomb in front of her and she won’t even flinch. She can walk through a band or a riot and she’s as cool as a cucumber.”

  Julia looked pleadingly at Dolly. “She’s a police horse, Dolly.”

  Kathleen flinched as if the horse was about to arrest her.

  “A minute, love,” Dolly said, and went back into the kitchen, followed by a flushed Julia.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? And free! We don’t even have to pay for her feed.”

  Dolly folded her arms. “Really? And Norma’s a policewoman, is she?”

  Julia nodded, grinning inanely. She reeked of booze.

  Dolly sighed. “I don’t like the filth, mounted or otherwise, poking their noses around.”

  Julia looked crestfallen. “Oh, well, I can take it back. I just thought . . .”

  “You thought what? I don’t ride, there’s no kids here yet and you’re leaving, so what the hell am I gonna do with a horse?”

  Julia gripped the back of the chair. “I want to stay on, Dolly. I’ll groom her, feed her . . . You wouldn’t have to do a single thing, and I’ll make sure Norma keeps her distance.”

  “You better. We got an arsenal of guns on the property and none of us are what you might call upright citizens.”

  Julia was about to return to the yard when Dolly put her hand on her arm. “Ester’s gone.”

  Julia was stunned. “Gone?”

  “About fifteen minutes ago. And if you don’t mind me saying so, it’s good riddance.”

  Julia couldn’t believe Ester had walked out without even saying goodbye. She had to check that all her belongings had gone from their bedroom before finally accepting it. She slipped downstairs for a bottle of vodka, and started drinking it straight from the bottle. Ester had left her without so much as a note. Julia rested back against the pillow that still smelt of her perfume and started to cry, those awful, silent tears she had learned to cry in prison. Ester had chosen Julia, walked straight up to her. The other girls sitting with their dinner trays had moved away from the table, but Julia had said nothing, just continued to eat, her eyes down, afraid of what Ester wanted.

  “You shooting up?” Ester had said.

  Julia had swallowed, still unable to look at her.

  “Bad stuff in here. You’d better go cold turkey. I’ll take care of you.”

  Julia reached for the bottle, wanting to pass out. She didn’t want to hear that wonderful gravelly voice in her head, smell that thick sweet-scented perfume. Ester was the love of Julia’s life and without her the fear returned, her confidence dwindled and her deep-seated guilt and shame threatened to overwhelm her.

  “I’m at the station,” Audrey said.

  “I’ll be there, just wait in the car park.” Dolly put down the phone and went out to f
ind Gloria. She was with Kathleen, hanging over the stable door. Dolly held up the keys to Gloria’s Mini. “I won’t be long, just getting some groceries.”

  Gloria rushed over. “I need Eddie’s guns, Dolly. I got to get some cash.”

  Dolly opened the Mini and got inside. “We’ll talk about them later.”

  “They’re worth nearly thirty grand, Eddie said.”

  Dolly wound down the window. “And they could have got us arrested. When I come back we’ll talk.”

  “I’ll cut you in, Dolly, that’s only fair.” Dolly started the engine and backed the Mini down the drive, Gloria still following her. “Say twenty percent?”

  Gloria watched the car disappear down the drive.

  Audrey was standing in the center of the car park clutching her handbag when Dolly pulled up. Audrey climbed into the Mini. The level-crossing gates were closed. “What’s up?” Audrey asked, staring at the railway crossing.

  “Must be a train due.”

  Raymond Dewey saw Dolly and waved. She lowered the window. “Hello, Raymond, you on duty, are you?” He came over to the car and shook her hand, then introduced himself to Audrey. She pressed herself back in her seat as his square head poked through the window. “How long will we have to wait?” Dolly asked.

  “Oh, might be a few minutes. Not like the mail train, always a long delay every Thursday. This is the three twenty, local.” He returned to his stool to jot down more notes in his precious book as Audrey and Dolly sat in silence. They watched the train chugging past them before the gates slowly lifted.

  “Bloody nutter,” said Audrey as they passed him, now waving them on like a traffic controller.

  They went into the local pub and Audrey took a corner seat at the bay window as Dolly got the drinks. When Dolly put a large gin and tonic down in front of her she knocked it back in two gulps to try to calm her nerves. “Right, I’ve got you all I could. Twenty grand.”

  Dolly sipped her drink. “I hope you’re joking.”

  “No, I’m not. I brought bank statements, everything, you can see for yourself that’s all I could get. The rest, like I told you, went into the villa. I’ll sell it, split the profits, but it’ll take a while.” Audrey opened her bag and took out a thick envelope. She was about to pass it to Dolly when Norma walked over.

  “Hello, Mrs. Rawlins.”

  Dolly gave a tight, brittle smile. “Hello, Norma. I’d offer to buy you a drink but we’re just leaving. Audrey, this is Norma. She’s a mounted police officer.”

  Audrey gaped in horror. “Oh, nice to meet you.”

  Dolly waved at Raymond as they passed him again and drove into the station car park. Audrey still clutched her bag tightly, sweating with nerves and wishing Dolly would say something to break the tension. But she drove in tight-lipped silence.

  “I’ll need my passport, Dolly, and me ticket for Spain.”

  Dolly engaged the handbrake and leaned over to open the glove compartment. “Here, take them. Just give me the money.” Audrey passed her the envelope. She shoved it into her pocket without counting it. “I don’t want to see you or hear from you again, Audrey. Just get out of my sight.”

  Audrey fumbled with the door handle in her haste to get away. She ran into the station, still afraid Dolly might get out and attack her—she’d turned those chipped-ice eyes on her with such hatred. Dolly sat in the car and watched her go. Twenty thousand pounds! And she’d thought she would have millions. How was she going to make things work now?

  Gloria and Connie were sitting at the kitchen table playing noughts and crosses when Dolly got back. “Did you get milk?” Connie asked.

  “No. Shops were closed, wasted journey.”

  Gloria screwed up the paper. “About Eddie’s guns, Dolly.”

  Dolly took off her coat. “We’ll go and get them when it’s dark but right now I’d like a cup of tea, if that’s all right with you—even if we haven’t got any milk.”

  Julia was lying face down on the bed. She didn’t look up when Dolly tapped on the door and walked in. “I need a hand, Julia. We’re going to get the guns and—” Julia tried to sit up then flopped down again. Dolly saw the empty bottle on the floor. “You’d better sleep it off, we’ll manage without you.”

  “We’ll need spades and a wheelbarrow,” Dolly said to Gloria and then, as Connie, all dressed up, walked into the kitchen, “You leaving too, are you?”

  Connie shook her head. “No, I’m going out with that builder bloke.”

  Gloria nudged Dolly. “I told her earlier to get the old leg over and he’d maybe work for nothin’.”

  Dolly shook her head at Gloria, as if she was a naughty kid, and then asked Connie to come into the room she now used as an office. She handed over an envelope with ten thousand pounds cash inside. “Give this to him, will you? Tell him he’ll get the rest next week and if he could get the men back to work over the weekend, I’d be grateful.”

  “Okay.” Connie slipped the envelope into her pocket.

  Dolly hesitated, then patted Connie’s arm. “Be nice to him. Be a help to me, know what I mean?”

  Connie bit her lip. “Sure, pay my way, so to speak.”

  Dolly nodded. “Good. You have a nice evening, then.”

  Connie met John outside the manor gates. He’d changed into a suit and Connie was touched by the effort he’d made. “Sorry about the state of the van,” he said nervously as they drove off. “Do you like Chinese?”

  Connie hated Chinese. She flashed him a beaming smile. “That would be lovely.”

  “God, I’m hungry,” complained Gloria as she trundled the wheelbarrow through the woods.

  Kathleen trudged along behind with two spades. “Got to hand it to you, Dolly, if you hadn’t stashed them, we’d be in a right old mess.”

  Gloria scowled, all the time wondering just how much Dolly would squeeze her for Eddie’s guns, but she couldn’t help being impressed by the fact she’d hidden them so far from the house and done it all on her own. As if she was reading her mind, Dolly looked at her. “I did it in three trips, Gloria, took half the night.”

  Julia woke up, her dulled senses finally making out the sound of the telephone ringing and ringing. She stumbled out of her room and almost fell down the stairs.

  She lurched toward it, snatching it up. “Ester? Is that you?”

  “Is Connie there?” said a man’s voice.

  Julia swung round and looked into the kitchen. “Connie? Connie?”

  “She . . . she’s not here,” Julia slurred.

  “Okay. I’m coming to meet her but I seem to be in a dead end road. How do I get to the Grange?”

  Julia began to give him directions, assuming Connie had arranged for Lennie to collect her. She was too drunk to remember that Connie was terrified of him.

  Lennie slipped the portable back into the glove compartment of his shining Porsche and started to reverse. He swore when the car sank into a pothole, the mud splashing the gleaming paintwork. Then he drove slowly down the lane.

  Connie giggled as the waiter presented John with the bill and his eyes almost popped out of his head. But he paid up, digging into the envelope Connie had given him. She felt a bit bad about ordering champagne and pressed her leg against his under the table. He flushed as she kicked off her shoe and let her toes stroke his crotch. He had never before come across a woman like Connie and felt excited and terrified at the same time.

  “Do you think she’ll be able to pay the rest?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant as Connie’s toes stroked the fly of his trousers.

  “Oh, so you asked me out to find out about Mrs. Rawlins?”

  “No, no! It’s just that I’m a one-man firm and I could go broke over this. I’ve ordered a lot of equipment.”

  “If Mrs. Rawlins says she’ll pay you, then she will,” Connie purred, leaning toward him over the table as her toes did all the walking below.

  “I’d better get you home,” he gulped.

  Gloria had taken over the diggi
ng as Kathleen heaved the first bag onto the wheelbarrow. “You’re stronger than you look, Dolly Rawlins. These weigh a ton.”

  Angela pulled the brambles away from the third hiding place as Gloria stuck in the spade. They were on the brow of a small hill just outside the wooded perimeter of the manor’s land, and could see clearly the signal box below.

  “Who’s at the gates?” Kathleen pointed.

  Dolly looked up. She could see the flashing signal lights, the barred gates, and the stationary builder’s van.

  Gloria prodded her in the ribs. “You think he’s givin’ her one or is it just light relief?”

  Dolly grimaced. Sometimes Gloria’s crudeness really irritated her but she couldn’t help taking another look to see what was going on in the van.

  John had Connie’s top undone and was nuzzling her breasts as she kept one eye on the signal lights.

  “Train’s coming,” she whispered.

  He moaned, and for a moment she thought he was coming too but then he sat back. “I’m sorry.”

  She buttoned her blouse and snuggled up to him. “Are you married?”

  “No, but I live with someone.”

  “And where does she think you are tonight?”

  “At the gym.”

  She grinned. “Can I work out with you one day? I love doing weights.”

  The train thundered past and the gates slowly opened. “Anytime you like.” John put the van into gear and they headed down the narrow lane back toward the manor.

  Lennie reversed into a field through an open gate. He’d already driven past the manor, taken a quick look and decided that the element of surprise would be more beneficial. He was just about to get out when the van passed him. He waited until it parked by the manor, then followed on foot, keeping close to the overhanging hedgerow.

  They’d finally loaded the wheelbarrow and were pushing it back toward the manor. Dolly walked ahead, her arm slung around Angela’s shoulder. “You know you can go on special government courses, get further education, proper training in something. You’re welcome to stay on here for as long as you like, you know that, but you should think about it. Do you like kids?”

 

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