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.’