She's Out

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She's Out Page 13

by La Plante, Lynda


  ‘Anyway, when it was over, I knew it would be just a matter of time before they picked me up so I sorted out the stones. I left them with a friend of mine, someone I knew I could trust.’

  ‘You left them with someone for eight years?’ Ester asked uneasily.

  ‘Yes, but, like I said, I knew he wouldn’t try anything because I got so much on him. Well, my husband did.’

  ‘Harry,’ Gloria said eagerly.

  ‘You’ve read about him, have you?’ Dolly looked at the old newspaper cuttings, the xerox copies. One had his face on the front page: ‘Harry Rawlins Murdered’, screamed the headline. ‘I know what I did was wrong,’ Dolly said softly. No one spoke, but they all watched and listened intently. ‘I killed him. I paid the price. And probably I’m the only person who still mourns him, I always will. In some ways I tried to be him, before I knew what he’d done to me, before I knew he had a cheap little tart of a girlfriend, before I knew she’d got his kid. I tried to be him, as if keeping him alive inside me, but the laugh was on me because he was alive.’

  The women began to inch towards them the old reportage of the robbery and the murder; hearing her speaking so softly about what she had done was unnerving.

  ‘I’m serious about putting something back into society. He took it out for years and years, and I want to make up for it. I truly want to open a foster home. It’s serious with me and I know I can do it. I can give a home for the unwanted, the kids with babies, the drug addicts … I want to have a purpose for the rest of my life.’

  Ester nodded. ‘Yeah, well, we all agree it’s a great idea, and you may regret buying this place now but when you done it up, Dolly, think how many kids you can give a place to.’

  Dolly sighed. ‘Yeah, it’s just the finances, isn’t it? And that’s what I’m going to use the diamonds for. Now, if any of you have any thoughts about getting a cut, then you’ve not got a hope in hell. I’m not planning on sharing this with any one of you. They are mine, all mine, and I’ll need every penny.’

  ‘But we know that. All we’re offering is to help you run this place,’ Ester said warmly, and the other women muttered in agreement.

  Julia leaned forward. ‘Will you need any help in getting them from this guy? Any help fencing them? Surely we can help you there.’

  ‘For what? A cut?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘Hell, no, just to show you how we all feel,’ Ester said, beaming. She could almost feel the money in her hands, she was so close.

  Dolly leaned back. ‘Well, you can stay or go, up to you, but you’ll have to earn your wages. I’m going to maybe need some help, I’ve been away a long time, and I’m not sure who to fence them to.’

  Kathleen received a dig beneath the table. ‘Eh, Dolly, leave that to me, I know the best. You get them and we’ll soon have them sorted out, and cash in your hand. How much you reckon they’re worth?’

  Dolly paused before she answered. ‘Maybe three and a half million … I doubt if I’ll see more than one, maybe one and a quarter back.’

  There was a lot of murmuring and quiet sneaky looks as they each suddenly felt rich, their good mood lifting them into suggesting ways of fencing. Then Dolly stood up. ‘I’m collecting them tomorrow so we’ll soon see what the value is. Now I’m off to bed, maybe just have a walk around. Goodnight.’

  They all chorused goodnight, as Dolly fetched her coat, refusing everyone’s offer to join her.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Ester put out her hand. ‘Put it there. What did I tell you?’

  A few slapped Ester’s hand, but Julia rocked in her chair. ‘She doesn’t seem eager to give us a cut, Ester. Maybe you’re starting to celebrate a bit too early.’

  Ester gazed at her. ‘She brings them here and we don’t get a cut, we don’t wait for her to fence them, we simply take them! Agreed?’

  They all nodded. They seemed to have forgotten Angela who had not said a word throughout. Ester suddenly realized she was there and reached out to prod her. ‘You just got lucky, darlin’, but open your mouth to her about this and you’ll be sorry, very sorry.’

  Angela hunched her shoulders. ‘I won’t say anything to anyone.’ But her mind was buzzing. This was a way to get Mike on the phone. At least he’d talk to her if she told him about the diamonds.

  Ester twitched back her bedroom curtain, the room in darkness. ‘She’s still out there, Julia, looking up at the house, as if she’s checking us out.’

  ‘Try just checking out what you lumbered her with,’ Julia drawled, lying in the bed.

  Ester jumped on the bed, crawling towards Julia who opened her arms to her.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ Julia said as Ester nuzzled her neck. ‘Would you kill her for them?’

  Ester lay back against the pillows. ‘No. Let me ask you something. If she caught us taking them, do you think Dolly would kill?’

  Julia thought for a moment and then said, very softly, ‘I’m sure of it.’

  Dolly paced round the garden. She was cold, the night chilling her, but she didn’t want to go inside. It was talking about him, it brought it all back. She walked slowly towards the swimming pool: the dank, dark water made her remember even more clearly. The way he smiled at her, waiting there by the big ornate lake. He never expected her to kill him, not for a second, and she would never forget the look of total surprise on his face when she brought out the gun and fired: a half mocking smile, then that moment of fear. And then he was dead, his body falling backwards into the water.

  She rubbed her arms, turning back to the house. She was going to make this work, with or without that bunch of slags. She knew that she would need help, though, and she toyed with giving them a few hundred each, but the bulk was going to be put into bricks and mortar, into making Grange Manor House her dream come true, on a bigger scale than she had ever hoped for. And it had been her dreams that had kept her going for all those long, empty years in prison.

  Chapter 6

  Dolly was up at six. She went through the Yellow Pages and earmarked the local building companies. She couldn’t wait to get started. At nine, she had Angela sitting at the reception desk, calling all the companies and asking for them to come and give estimates. She had been making out copious lists of all the contents of the manor, giving the women orders to list what they felt needed to be done in different parts of the house. They all went about the delegated duties with a zest and energy that sparkled like the diamonds they had all expected to get a slice of.

  By ten o’clock, the drive was filled with an odd assortment of trucks as builders arrived. They eyed each other and had hushed private conversations with the new owner, Mrs Dorothy Rawlins. They walked around the grounds, studied the pool, the stables, all of them trying hard to win the race. Mrs Rawlins wanted an immediate verbal estimate. She wanted the work to start immediately, that afternoon if possible.

  Dolly felt more alive than she had for years. She drove into the village in Gloria’s Mini and bought provisions, wellington boots, sweaters and jeans. If the women were genuine, she’d soon find out. She then went into the town hall to speak to Mrs Tilly again, more confident than the last time, and she asked if there was any possibility of being interviewed by the board before she gave the go-ahead for structural work to begin on the house. Mrs Tilly promised she would do what she could but she doubted the board could see her straight away. It would be more like five to six weeks so that they had time to assess her details.

  Mrs Tilly liked Dolly, her forthrightness, her eagerness and, above all, her genuineness. When she went to see the chairman of the board, she asked if there was any possibility of moving Mrs Rawlins’s application forward. He looked over his diary and mused that the earliest would be in three weeks’ time.

  Dolly handed out the wellington boots and jeans and asked for the groceries to be unloaded. She had ordered a giant deep freeze, plus a new fridge. The women looked on as trucks delivered wheelbarrows, spades, brooms and cleaning equipment. It was still only twelve o’clock
when the builders began to ask to speak to Dolly about their estimates, and she sat in the dining room listening to each man. She eventually chose John Maynard, Builder and Carpenter. He was a one-man business that hired in workmen. His yard was only a mile from the manor and his estimates were lower than any of the others. The reason she hired ‘Big John’ was not only because his estimates were low, but she reckoned that as he was a one-man show, she could make a cash deal and cut down on the VAT payments.

  Like a royal princess, she began the tour with Big John, working from the top of the house down to the cellars. He pointed out what structural work was required; mainly the roof needed to be replaced and the chimneys were dangerous. Every window sash had to be renewed; ceilings and all decor must be refurbished, and all the plumbing in every bathroom, the boilers. In other words, the manor needed to be stripped back to the bare boards and rebuilt. He said it would cost at least between sixty and seventy thousand pounds, and that excluded fitments and fittings; with those it would come to at least a hundred and fifty thousand.

  Dolly was unfazed as Big John pointed out the dry rot, wet rot, failing damp courses, and he had not even taken into consideration the gardens, stables, swimming pool and orchard. Work on them would mean extra cost but his charges were still way under any of the larger firms.

  ‘How long will it all take?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘Six months at least.’

  She frowned: she would have to have that meeting at the town hall to find out what grants she would be entitled to because it was now obvious that Ester’s big deal about all the furnishing being part of the sale meant nothing. Everything needed to be replaced – cutlery, linen, beds, mattresses, carpets. She knew she was looking at around half a million to get the manor back into shape – and that was for only the bare necessities because she would also have to install fire alarms and child safety equipment, but she was almost jubilant. She felt she was able to finance the place and still come out with money in the bank for emergencies, perhaps schooling and further education for the kids, home helps, nannies. She embraced everything in one huge confident sweep. Big John agreed to cut out the VAT for cash payment and departed a happy man to begin hiring workmen, plumbers, carpenters, brickies. Mrs Rawlins had agreed to pay him in fifteen-thousand-pound instalments as and when necessary, throughout the months of work. Big John ordered scaffolding, as the first payment from Mrs Rawlins would be on the first day of work commencing. The start date was virtually that afternoon and Big John was almost as ebullient as his new employer.

  The women, in wellington boots, jeans and old sweaters, began to ‘look busy’, with a lot of comings and goings, but none were doing much or over-exerting themselves. They were more intent on keeping an eye on Dolly, but monitoring her phone calls was difficult as Angela was constantly on the phone making calls for her.

  Ester passed Angela twice. ‘You’re not still on the phone, are you, Angela? Maybe Dolly wants to call somebody.’

  ‘I’m calling people for her. She’s given me a list.’

  Angela was telephoning the social services, trying to find out what the building requirements and stipulations were, and if there was any information that could be sent, but she kept on being switched from one department to another.

  Out in the stables, the women were half-heartedly clearing away years of rubbish, old wine crates and bottles. Rotting bags of garden debris mixed up with old garbage bags made it a hard physical job that none of them were trying too hard at.

  Ester marched out. ‘That bloody Angela is still on the phone. It’s crazy, she’s been on it all morning.’

  ‘I thought Dolly was gonna call about the diamonds,’ bellowed Gloria.

  ‘Can you say that any louder, Gloria? Maybe the station attendant didn’t pick it up!’

  Kathleen hurled a crate from the loft. ‘Well, get her off the bloody phone.’ She climbed down the ladder as Ester paced up and down. If she’s paying cash to that builder, she’s either got to have more than she let on or she’s going for them later today.’

  Kathleen began to load the wheelbarrow and yelled that somebody else should also look as if they were working apart from her. Ester climbed up the ladder and began to kick down crates as Gloria dragged out an old table with three legs.

  ‘Gloria, come up here. Gloria!’

  ‘What do you want?’ she yelled back, and then looked up at Ester as she peered down from the loft.

  ‘You come up here, Gloria!’ Gloria sighed and went up the ladder. As her nose appeared at the top, Ester pointed to some old straw covering suspicious-looking bags. ‘Are these yours?’

  Gloria shrugged. ‘Maybe. What’s your problem?’

  Ester knelt down and dragged forward one of the open bags. They’re full of guns, Gloria.’

  ‘So bleedin’ what? What’s that got to do with you?’

  ‘A lot. There’s gonna be builders coming back this afternoon, and they’ll be swarming all over the place. If they find them, they’ll think the bloody IRA have taken up residence. Move them.’

  ‘Where to, for chrissakes?’

  ‘Somewhere out of sight, not left up here for anyone to find.’

  ‘I’ll move ’em but I’ll need you to help. They weigh a ton.’

  Dolly was reading the leaflets from the social services when she heard a yell from below. She crossed to the window to see Gloria staggering towards the house with Ester, carrying what looked like a body in a bag.

  They stumbled through the kitchen, all the guns wrapped in an old piece of carpet. As they went into the hall, they found Angela on the phone.

  ‘Well, I have to see you, it’s important.’

  ‘Get off the phone,’ Ester snapped.

  Angela whipped round. ‘I’m still calling for Dolly,’ she lied, and began to redial.

  The two women continued on towards the cellar and down into the sauna. Dolly watched from the landing, wondering what they were taking down there. She moved slowly down the stairs as Angela hurriedly dialled again. ‘Keep getting put into different departments, Mrs Rawlins.’

  Dolly pressed her finger over the button and then lifted it up. She asked Angela to dial a number for her and to ask for Jimmy. Angela did as she was told. Dolly leaned forward, listening. ‘Ask him if he has got them,’ she whispered, as Angela held her hand over the phone.

  ‘Got what?’

  Dolly gave her one of her strange, sweet smiles. ‘I’ll maybe tell you about it but just do as I say, love.’

  Angela hesitated and then spoke into the phone. ‘Have you got them?’ she stammered.

  Donaldson looked at Palmer. They had still not found the stones but Palmer nodded for him to say that he had them, and to stall for time. ‘Yes, I’ve got them, but not here.’

  Dolly wrote on a notepad and passed it to Angela. She read it and then said into the phone, ‘I’ll collect them at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.’

  Dolly pressed on the cradle to cut off the call, and as Ester and Gloria came up from the cellar told Angela to carry on contacting the social services. ‘Still clearing the junk from the stable, Dolly.’

  ‘Good, keep at it. We’ll have some skips delivered soon so a lot of it can be chucked into them. I’m going to London tomorrow afternoon.’

  They smiled, and went out to report that it looked like Dolly was going to pick up the diamonds the following afternoon. They started clearing the rubbish with renewed vigour.

  Dolly waited until Angela had started telephoning again before she slipped down into the cellar and looked around for what she had seen Gloria and Ester carrying. She went into the old sauna locker room. Some of the cupboards were dented and hanging open but a row of three was locked, dusty fingerprints showing they had been opened and used recently. Dolly looked around and found an old screwdriver left on a bench. She prised open a locker and found herself looking at a thick canvas bag. She swore, and then sighed, leaning against the old locker. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid …’

  The women were a
ll worn out from their efforts. The scaffolding was being erected around the house and the men worked hard until seven when they left. The women sat watching TV, all of them knackered, apart from Dolly who remained at the kitchen table making notes and copious lists.

  When they had gone to bed, Ester suddenly sat bolt upright, nudging Julia. ‘Somebody’s downstairs, can you hear?’

  Julia listened, and then crept to the doorway. She could hear nothing. Ester looked out of the window and whispered, ‘She’s out there again, look, up by the woods. What is she doing?’

  Dolly was standing, staring at the manor, looking from one window to the next. She wore wellington boots and a raincoat she had found in a closet, a man’s raincoat, stained and torn.

  ‘What’s she doing out there?’

  ‘I dunno. Maybe reviewing her property. Come back to bed.’ Julia yawned.

  ‘I don’t trust her one bit,’ Ester said, but she returned to bed. Hours later she woke again as she heard someone on the stairs. She listened and then heard Dolly’s bedroom door opening and closing.

  ‘I don’t trust her,’ she murmured, but fell back into a dreamless sleep.

  The workmen arrived at six. They were still putting up the scaffolding, but they had also begun to clear out old carpets and broken furniture, laid down planks for easy access by wheelbarrows into the hallway, and bags of cement had been delivered and left by the open front door. Dolly was up and having breakfast when Big John tapped and entered. ‘Scaffolding should be up by this afternoon and we’ll start clearing out anything you don’t want, get ready for the roof. Er, I’ve hired eight men so …’

  ‘You’ll get the first payment end of the week, if that’s okay, just a couple of days.’

  ‘Oh, fine. It’s just I’m laying out cash for all the tiles and the men’ll want wages come Friday.’

  ‘I know, love, but I have to go to London to get the cash. You’ll have it, don’t worry.’

  ‘Okay, Mrs Rawlins.’

  ‘Thank you, John.’ She sat a moment, tapping her teeth with a pencil, as one by one the women drifted down for breakfast.

 

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