When Julia opened her eyes, she could see Sam and Suzie holding hands in the distance. This was the kind of mother she had to be now. Sam was pointing back towards the waste ground. It was time to go, but Julia couldn’t peel herself off the wall.
From her hiding place, she could hear as Darren screamed profanities and fought like a maniac. He never once shouted for Julia and he never once gave away her position. Once the police car had driven off, she walked back to Sam and Suzie.
Sam saw Julia’s tears and, with all the understanding and sensitivity of a grown-up, he tapped his finger on her chest.
‘He ain’t strong in here. And he ain’t smart.’
He took Julia by the hand and together the three of them walked to the coach.
By the time the coach was on the A1 towards Newcastle upon Tyne, Sam was teaching Riel and Aggie dirty versions of chart songs, much to Connie’s amusement. Ester, as expected, wasn’t happy.
‘I’ve spent my entire life avoiding the fucking North, Angela. What’s wrong with Dover? It’s cleaner and it’s closer to Switzerland.’
Angela had explained the escape plan a dozen times, so she knew that Ester wasn’t really asking a genuine question, she was just whingeing. If they’d been in a gold-plated private cruiser, Ester would have complained about the colour.
Julia sat alone, staring out of the window at the Yorkshire Dales flashing by and trying not to cry. In the reflection of the window, she watched Angela approach and pause next to her. As Angela spoke, Julia could almost hear Dolly’s voice.
‘We were never going to get everyone out.’
The squad room was buzzing. Fibres of horsehair found on Barry’s severed trouser leg were being compared to any furnishings that survived from the Rose Cottage carnage — and the cash had traces of accelerant on it that matched the petrol from Mike’s Range Rover.
Anik had worked with Essex Police to create a timeline for Barry since leaving the army. He had been lead foreman at a demolition company for three years, until he was sacked for ‘mislaying’ four sticks of dynamite, just two weeks before the mail train was blown off its tracks and robbed. Mike Withey then employed Barry at his security firm. It seemed that Barry had also used his industry connections to make several discreet phone calls to the company due to demolish Rose Cottage, asking to know schedules and time frames for starting work. This was vital information, because if the cottage had been sealed off and become a building site before the cash was removed, the demolition company would have been the ones to tear down the kitchen wall.
Ridley was in his element as every officer worked towards the same goal. He could smell success. Anik could smell promotion. Jack could smell bullshit. And Ridley had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.
Jack’s mobile screen lit up: Reminder: dinner with Maggie. This was, in fact, the second reminder and so he now only had ten minutes to travel halfway across London. Jack couldn’t listen to Ridley any longer — this great man, who Jack had always looked up to, was now so far down the wrong road. Jack had bet his reputation on the guilt of the women from The Grange and he’d had it thrown back in his face. Just when he’d finally started caring about this thankless job, no one was listening.
All he wanted right now... was Maggie.
Chapter 30
The coach was in a lengthy queue waiting to embark on the DFDS ferry from Newcastle to Amsterdam. The kids were exhausted and were trying to sleep, and Ester was being more obnoxious than usual, having drunk the contents of one of her hip flasks. She had two more tucked away in various pockets of her clothing.
‘It looks like a floating skip!’ she said scathingly, as she caught sight of the ferry.
Ester took any and every opportunity to undermine Angela’s escape plan; it was as though she wanted it to fail just so she could laugh in Angela’s face and mock how the ‘little tart’ from all those years ago should have stayed on the lowest rung of the ladder, where she belonged, and made no attempt to climb. Ester’s penchant for self-destruction was well known, so they’d already agreed to keep her sweet for another week or two because after that they’d never have to see her again.
‘We’re staying in Hyatt House in Düsseldorf tomorrow night, Ester.’ Rob’s deep, velvety voice from the driving seat made Ester go weak at the knees and he knew it. ‘Google it, darlin’. It’s stunning.’
Ester obediently got out her mobile and, as she scrolled through the photos of the double-staircase, gold and winding up three floors, she beamed and opened her second hip flask.
Angela put her hand inside Rob’s, as they inched closer and closer to the first test of their new passports. She was nervous; she was so excited for what lay ahead of them, and terrified of losing it at the final turn. Rob’s huge hand enveloped Angela’s. She loved the rough callouses at the base of each of his fingers, just above his palm. They were comforting. Her man knew what hard work was and that made him appreciate everything he had. He could take on anything, because he knew what life was about. His life, anyway.
The front wheels of the coach hesitated on the lip of the ramp, rolled back a little, then went for it. They were aboard.
A man in a yellow tabard waved them into a parking space and Rob turned the engine off. For a few seconds, they all nervously looked out of their nearest window for... what?
Connie was the first to grin, which she quickly followed with a shriek that scared Suzie. Riel and Aggie were used to Connie’s oddness, so ignored her; Sam, out of boredom, was using his penknife to snag stitches out of the seat he was sitting on.
Angela, Julia and Connie, quite unprompted, came together in the centre of the coach and hugged. They then forced themselves into Ester’s two-seater space and hugged her too, which she pretended to object to.
‘Gerroff me! You stink! Gerroff, I’m going to the bar.’ Ester struggled to her feet. ‘Come and get me when we’re there.’
Connie curtsied and off Ester went.
‘Right, kids!’ Julia turned.
Sam was holding up a £50 note. She dived to the back of the bus and snatched it from his hand. She didn’t have to say anything, she just glared. Between Sam’s legs, the stitching in the front of his seat was open about half an inch, exposing one of the stacks of cash. He closed his legs, covering the damage he’d done. She read the ‘I won’t tell a soul’ in his eyes. Julia pushed the £50 note back through the hole in the seat and stroked Sam’s hair. Even though he was only ten, and inquisitive as a puppy, she trusted him completely.
‘I can sew that.’ Julia spun round to see Angela right behind her. ‘Maybe you should take the knife though, eh? For safekeeping.’ Then, to show Sam that she too trusted him, she said, ‘Rob, would you take the kids to look around? Sam’s going to be your wingman.’
Sam handed his penknife to Julia and left the coach with the other kids, Rob, Connie and Julia.
As the ferry pulled away from the terminal, Angela sat in the driver’s seat and looked out to sea. Then, quite unexpectedly, she began to cry. She tried to control it, but she couldn’t; the tears flooded out from pure relief. Angela gasped in the stale air smelling of petrol fumes, to try and calm herself down. She opened the glovebox and there, sitting on top of all of Rob’s junk, were a small, worn teddy bear and a bright yellow teething ring. She thought back to Dolly Rawlins and their impromptu shopping trip to Mothercare all those years ago.
You’re a good girl. Dolly’s voice was as clear as day. Stay strong and, most of all, stay happy. If you’re not happy, you’re not anything really.