She's Out

by La Plante, Lynda

  Julia pulled on her boots, a thick sweater over her shirt and began to do up the big rain cape. Like an omen, there was a sudden roll of thunder.

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Ester said, running to the window. ‘It’s gonna rain.’

  ‘Never mind the rain,’ Dolly said calmly. ‘If it’s raining the cops won’t hang around.’

  ‘If there’s a storm the horses will freak,’ Julia said as she picked up Norma’s police hat. ‘If the thunder makes them edgy, pull the reins in tight,’ she said, putting on the hat, and walking to the kitchen door.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Ester said sharply.

  ‘Just to take a leak,’ Julia said, slipping out.

  ‘You’ve already been,’ Ester said, following.

  ‘Let her go,’ Dolly said quietly, and Ester turned back, drew Dolly aside.

  She whispered, ‘She’ll be snorting coke.’

  ‘I know, but if she needs it to straighten out, then let her do it.’ Dolly ignored the other women’s gasps, and looked out of the window. ‘It’s coming down hard, the ground will be slippery.’

  ‘Oh. Christ,’ Connie said, panting with nerves.

  Dolly opened a bottle of Scotch and got down some mugs. ‘For those that need a bit of bottle.’

  Upstairs Julia knocked back half a tumbler of vodka and then snorted two thick lines of coke, the last of it, but, then, this might be her last night. She stared at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. She looked huge in the big cape and boots, and she put on the hat, pulling it down low over her face, tucking in her hair. She had a black scarf round her neck, and she tested that it was loose round the front, ready to ease over her face. She looked at her reflection for a long time and then smiled. She was confident, and as she held out her hand in front of her, it was steady – even if her head wasn’t.

  Julia got back as the women began pulling on their boots. No one spoke. She passed through the kitchen and a roll of thunder heralded her opening the back door, which still caught a bit from the damage of the police raid, and she yanked it hard. They could see the rain coming down in a sheet outside.

  ‘Well, take care. Hold the reins in tight, make them know who’s boss, especially over the jumps.’

  They nodded, and Ester went over and reached up to kiss her face. ‘Take care, Julia, for chrissakes. Take care on that live rail.’

  Julia smiled. ‘It’s Helen that’s got to take care. I don’t want her thrown up into a tree like that dog Connie told us about.’

  Connie moaned softly. She was chalk-white but at least she’d stopped coughing. One good belt of Scotch had stopped that.

  ‘See you later.’ Julia went into the stable to saddle up Helen. She was the only one not to have her hooves clad as Julia would not use any road. She was to head to the far side of the bridge over fields and cross far along the line from their level crossing to ride back to the bridge. They all had their coats on when they heard Julia moving out. The clock registered ten thirty.

  Mike blew into his gloves. His hands were freezing and he was sodden from the downpour. A bolt of lightning had lit up the bridge and lake for a second and he just hoped to God it had not lit him. There was still no sign of a living soul.

  The convoy was halfway to its destination. The heavy rain did not slow it down and the armoured security wagon was cushioned between two police cars as it continued towards the station.

  Colin was at the wheel, maintaining radio contact between all three vehicles. The empty mail train left Marylebone station. At first they were told to stand by and wait as the engine was still playing up, even after a complete service, but the problem ceased as soon as they gained speed. The carriage to be used for the collection of the mailbags was at the centre of the four-carriaged train. It looked like an ordinary passenger train except for the blacked-out windows. The three guards sat inside playing cards, a good hour to go before they picked up the money bags. They were relaxed and casual.

  ‘I’ll be glad when tonight’s over. I hope to God they don’t make this a regular thing, I hate getting home this late. Anyone know the next route they’re gonna take?’

  ‘No one does.’

  ‘Bloody train’s clapped out. You’d think carrying this much dough they’d have some kind of high-powered armour-plated one, wouldn’t you?’

  The rain splattered on to the carriage windows. ‘Your deal, mate, and let’s hope this doesn’t get into a fuckin’ storm, we’ll be soaked.’

  ‘I won’t. I’m not moving out. Let the security blokes carry the gear in. Right, ace’s wild, this one’s dealer’s choice.’

  His two friends groaned as the train continued down the tracks, unimpeded by any other. There was an ominous distant roll of thunder.

  Julia moved slowly across the field. She was worried they would all have trouble as the ground was slippery, the mud forming in some of the ditches between the fields. She opened two gates in readiness. They stuck in old tractor ruts and she had to dismount to secure the gate back, lifting it slightly over the squelching mud. She checked the time; she’d have to get a move on, the gates had already delayed her by three or four minutes. Julia pushed the horse on in the dark night. She was just a shadow, no lights, no streetlights. She began a steady canter in a wide circle. She had a long ride ahead to get back to the far end of the bridge, right round the far side of the lake and then up a dangerous high bank to take Helen on to a narrow ledge before moving down on to the line itself. It didn’t worry her –she’d been doing it for weeks – but she felt uneasy about the heavy rain. The steep bank was slippery and Helen could stumble or, worse, she might inadvertently hit the dangerous high-voltage cable, but she didn’t slow her pace, just kept going.

  The women parked the Mini in a narrow field gateway. They kept to the grass verge as they headed towards the stables, passing two small cottages. Lights were on in both and they moved silently in single file: Dolly, Gloria, Ester and, coming up at the rear, Connie.

  They saw no one, and there was only one streetlight to worry them, almost directly outside the cottages. They carried the cladding and saddle-bags between them, only Gloria, Ester and Dolly with the shotguns. They found the stable key and unlocked the main doors. By torchlight they began to clad the horses’ hooves in the thick sacking bags. It was eleven fifteen; they had three quarters of an hour before the train was due.

  When the horses were ready, they rode out one by one, each with their orders and position, the rain still pelting down. The sacking would give more grip in the mud.

  Dolly was first out. She walked her horse down the lane, then made for the woods. It was inky black and not a light could be seen until she broke from the cover of the trees and headed towards the railway line below. She had to cross a small bridge about half a mile from the signal box. She winced as the horse’s hooves thudded on the wooden-planked bridge. She held the reins tightly, keeping to the narrow grass verge, and started to make her way along the side of the tracks. She slipped off the horse and tied him up firmly. She had seen no one, and in fact she began to be glad of the rain as it was really pelting down. Dolly squeezed under the protective wired fence, already cut in readiness, and moved inch by inch towards the station car park. Above was the signal box, lit up, with Jim inside. Dolly crept beneath it, taking out the wire-clippers and the razor-sharp hatchet. Now she would have to wait and hope to God nobody walked by the slip road and saw her horse tethered. But as they had done it eight or nine times and no one had ever passed even close to it, she hoped they would not tonight. Half an hour seemed like a long time.

  Connie and Gloria, using a different route, rode, like Julia, to the far side of the bridge. Unlike Julia, they did not have the long ride to get on to the tracks. The horses slithered a little in the mud but, on the whole, were steady as they galloped towards the far side of the lake. They had one riderless horse, Ester’s, as she had already gone to her designated position, on the far side of the bridge. Once there, with the shotgun ready and loaded, she was to wait for the
train. It would not be stopped in front of her; they were going to blow it halfway across the bridge, further down the track, the old railway sign the only protection for Ester if too much Semtex was used. She prayed that Gloria now knew the right amount.

  Dolly could hear the distant rumble of the train. It was still so far down the tracks she couldn’t see it but she tensed up in anticipation, hoping that the others were in their positions and ready.

  Connie and Gloria tied up the three horses firmly. They were a bit frisky and didn’t like the continuous heavy downpour. Connie followed Gloria as they passed the jetty and Mike appeared. He did no more than look towards them, signal, and start to move to the end of the jetty. He then crouched low, waiting. There were still about twenty minutes before the train was due at the station.

  Gloria and Connie moved to the end of the bridge, along the railway line in the opposite direction from Ester. Gloria motioned to Connie to remain behind as she bent low and, keeping pressed to the small parapet at the edge of the rail, she checked that the wires and the plastic-covered packages were all intact. She worked quickly and only hesitated once as she double-checked the live and the earthed wire. She had gone over it so many times she now closed her eyes tight and swore. ‘Please, dear God, have I got it right? Red into the right socket, blue into the left and the earth between them?’ She pictured the neat drawings Mike had made that Dolly had told her to burn, wishing she still had them.

  ‘You can do it blindfolded. Come on, gel, don’t blow your bottle now.’

  Gloria inched her way back towards Connie, who was holding her shotgun. She whispered, ‘Can you see him? Is he in position?’

  Connie screwed up her eyes to peer over the bridge and looked twenty-five feet down. It was pitch black. ‘I can see something at the end of the jetty.’

  Gloria nodded. They were under strict instructions not to speak, not to say one word throughout the robbery. She could just make out the outline of the tethered horses by the trees.

  Julia had a tough time riding Helen down the steep bank. The horse didn’t like it one bit and kicked out with her back hooves as Julia held on like grim death. She gritted her teeth as they slid further towards the track. Helen tossed and jerked her head but they were on the narrow edge before the line itself so Julia eased Helen forward, one hoof at a time, on to the centre plank. Either side were the live cables but there was an eight-inch-high border and she began to move Helen slowly down the precarious narrow plank. She was as dainty as a ballerina, encouraged and patted, as they got closer and closer to the spot Julia had rehearsed for stopping the train. Now came the really dangerous move: she had to turn Helen to stand sideways on, blocking the entire rail. A roll of thunder made her freeze as Helen tossed her head. Not liking the narrow ledge, the horse lifted one foreleg and almost came down on the cable but Julia shouted sharply. ‘Still’, a police command, and the wonderful old horse froze her position. Julia waited for her to settle before turning her and moving slowly sideways.

  Mike brought the boat further round. He had the spotlight switch in his hand. He could see none of the women, but knew they must be in position because the horses were tethered.

  The lead police patrol car pulled into the station forecourt, and an attendant switched on the exterior lights. The platform was lit up in readiness as the train approached, the level-crossing gates clanging shut. The rear police patrol car remained just behind the security van as the guards waited for the go-ahead to begin moving the money bags on to the train. The rain was bucketing down. Two officers had not got their raincoats with them so they took shelter under the platform awning.

  Jim, his hut lit up, watched the train hiss to a halt. He gave the thumbs-up to the driver who waved from the train cabin. He did not get out, simply waited in his cabin for the signal to move on.

  The guards opened the central carriage, carrying clipboards and documents. Two guards from the security wagon approached and checked their documents with the other guards and as the police formed a protective line either side of them, they opened the wagon and began to carry the bags aboard the train. They moved fast, expertly, calling the identity number as each bag went aboard. It took no more than ten minutes for the train to be loaded. As the carriage gates closed, the security guards returned to their empty wagon and the police didn’t hang about either. They waited only for the signal from the signal box, and the engine hissed and began to move down the tracks, across the closed level crossing and on to the bridge.

  Dolly saw the security wagon move back the way it had come and then the two patrol cars draw away from the station. She was willing them to move off, out of sight, one hand on the electric power switch for the signal box, the other clenched around the hatchet for the alarm wires. She knew exactly which ones they were because this moment, like the entire raid, had been rehearsed. The mains box opened and closed four times. Even so, when that power went out in the box, the moment of panic for Jim was only going to last a second or two before he hit that separate linked alarm switch. If that went off, the two cop cars could turn back within minutes and they’d have major problems. She had to pull the main switch and slash the wires within seconds of each other.

  The train passed, one carriage, second carriage, mail carriage, last carriage, and she said to herself, ‘Now, now, now.’

  The lights switched from red to off, perfect. The signal box went completely dark. Jim didn’t panic, went towards the emergency generator but, as he was about to switch it on, he heard something from beneath him. He could not ascertain what it was, his eyes still unaccustomed to the dark.

  Dolly slashed down the hatchet. The wires strained and two or three remained intact. She slashed again and then pocketed the hatchet before clipping at the cables. One sprang away, then the second. She had four more to go as Jim began to panic. His delay in getting worried gave Dolly the valuable time she needed to put the live wires against the generator sides. If Jim tried to switch on up in the box he’d get quite a shock – not enough to kill him but enough to stop him trying it again in a hurry.

  Dolly ran under the fence, and was almost at her horse when she froze. Jim was hurtling down the signal box steps, having almost been thrown across the signal box when he tried the emergency generator. He leaped down the steps, still semi-shocked, and fell to the ground. He moaned, clutching his ankle, rolling in the grit of the signalbox forecourt. He couldn’t hear Dolly, let alone see her, as she mounted and headed towards the bridge, the train moving slowly up ahead. But her horse was nowhere near as well trained as Julia’s so it was a much slower ride. He was nervous and skittish and no matter how much she pressed him forward, he refused to go at speed.

  The guards aboard the mail carriage had no idea anything was wrong at the station. They were moving and would soon pick up speed as usual, the bridge crossing always being slow. The windows of the carriage were all blacked-out; they saw nothing, heard nothing.

  The train driver didn’t look back. He was used to the bridge crossing and could do it blindfolded. In fact, he looked over to the lake a moment before the flashlight swung from side to side twenty yards up ahead of him. He put his hand up to shield his eyes from the bright light as it swung, indicating for him to stop. He began to brake in plenty of time, moving almost at a snail’s pace as he leaned out of his cab. All he could see was a police officer standing sideways across the track.

  ‘You fucking crazy?’ he screamed. Now he rammed on the brakes but they were still travelling so slowly, it didn’t jolt or jar the rear carriages. The train just slowly trickled to a halt. He presumed something had fallen across the tracks, waiting as the interphone rang from the centre carriage. He picked it up. ‘There’s a problem on the line, let me get back to you.’

  He still held the phone as Julia began to move closer, very slowly. He leaned even further out. ‘You’re taking one hell of a bloody risk – there are live cables under you.’

  Still she waited. Then she switched on the flashlight again, shining it at the
driver’s face, as she eased the horse on to the narrow verge, moving away from the rail tracks, backing Helen dangerously along the stone-flagged parapet. Again he yelled at her, asked what was going on, but she was edging further and further away from the train and to safety. If it started and tried to pass her, there wouldn’t be room for the horse – it would swipe her belly.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ the driver yelled again. The guards were now lifting up the blinds on the covered windows. The train had been stationary for one and a half minutes.

  Julia was within six feet of safety when she turned the flashlight on once, twice, three times and Gloria pressed down the detonator. They were just a fraction off but the explosion ripped through the second carriage instead of directly between it and the mail carriage. She swore as the carriages rocked and shuddered and the railway line buckled under the impact. Next she crawled to the second device and thumped it down. This time it was almost right on its marker as the rear carriage broke loose. The explosion was terrifyingly loud, echoing across the water, glass and metal splintering. There was hardly a window left intact. The guards sprawled across the floor lying face down. They didn’t know what was going on.

  Gloria had used too much Semtex and there was a dangerous gap in the bridge itself. The tracks beneath the carriage had buckled towards the gap but in the frantic next stage they didn’t realize the imminent danger as there was so much going on. Some of it was rehearsed or surmised by Dolly, and Julia didn’t waste time being impressed, but it was Dolly’s calm voice she could hear in her mind, ‘Soon as you move from the track, you chuck this into the main front carriage, as close to the driver as possible. It’ll work on a long radius and scramble any calls he tries to make from the train to the next station. It won’t give us long but it’ll be long enough.’ It was another of Ashley Brent’s toys.

  Julia was clear and galloping to her next position. She now collected Dolly’s horse and began to drag it towards the others down below by the lake. Dolly was on foot and running towards the centre of the bridge.