‘I didn’t come for money,’ she wailed.
He pushed the money at her. ‘Take it, Angela. I can’t see you, please stay away from me. Go away, Angela.’ He threw the money on to the pavement, and started the car. She sobbed even louder and he hesitated, but then he saw the time: it was six fifteen. Although he was afraid to meet Dolly Rawlins he was also afraid not to, so he drove off.
Angela picked up the four twenty-pound notes, unaware that Susan was watching from the bedroom window. The two of them were crying. Susan knew it had to be the girl and she’d seen her husband giving her money, which made it even worse. She wished she had enough money to get the locks changed there and then.
Gloria and Julia were both in the cesspit, still clearing away the filth. It was deep, and their heads appeared at the lip as Ester carried out two mugs.
‘All right for some,’ moaned Gloria, accepting the tea.
‘It’s deep, isn’t it?’ Ester remarked.
‘I’d say this is for the mail-bags,’ Julia replied. ‘What do you think?’
‘I dunno — who knows what the old bat’s doing? But as long as it’s not for us, who cares?’ Ester set off towards the house.
Gloria looked at Julia. ‘What if she’s got us diggin’ a bleedin’ grave? Just so long as Dolly Rawlins doesn’t intend finishing us all off. She shot her old man, you know. I wouldn’t put nothing past her.’
Later that night, Connie was perched on the counter in the signal box, a chipped glass of red wine in her hand, which she clinked against Jim’s mug. ‘Cheers.’
He moved closer. ‘You could get me the sack you know, Connie.’
‘Who’s gonna know I’m here?’
‘Well, anyone passing can see us.’
She slithered off the counter to sit on the floor. ‘Now they can’t.’ She began to run her hand up his trouser leg.
‘Hang on a second — lemme just sort this out. It’s the six o’clock, then we got fifteen minutes.’
Connie watched as he pulled levers and answered the phone. She began to ease down her panties. She held them up, waving them. ‘Can I have another drink down here?’
Jim saw her panties, began heaving the rail levers faster than he ever had before while Connie crawled across the floor and started undoing his flies. By now she had a good sense of where the phone connection wires ran but she didn’t have any knowledge of the alarms. All she knew was that it might be a very long night.
Dolly sipped the lemonade, flicking through her little black notebook. Mike stood over her as she looked up then smiled.
‘Nothing for me but get yourself a drink, love, if you need one.’
‘I don’t.’ He sat down, having a good look around the bar. ‘What do you want?’
Dolly shut the book, had another sip. ‘Some information — sort of like a trade.’
‘What information?’ he asked, his heart pounding. He knew something bad was coming but when it came it left him shattered. ‘I can’t find that out! That’s classified!’
She leaned forward and tapped his arm. ‘Yes, you can and you will, otherwise I will have to inform your superiors about those diamonds, about your mother. It’s up to you, Mike. Tell me now if you don’t want to do it. You must have some old friends from the army days — they might be helpful, but if you don’t want to do it...’
‘I’ve just said so.’
‘Oh, I know you did, but you see, Mike, I don’t think you really believe that I’d be prepared to sell myself down the tubes. But I would, I’d go back inside and I wouldn’t be on my own. You’d be sent down as well, and they might even get your mother back from Spain. You tell me now — can you get the information I need?’
He shuffled his feet, took another look round. ‘How long have I got?’
‘Two days, no more.’ She drained her glass, placing it carefully back on the beer mat. ‘I’ll call you, don’t you call me. Two days.’
He sat, head in his hands, as she walked out. The cement was drying, up to his chest now. He didn’t know whether to throw the table through the pub window or do as she had asked: find out how much money the mail train was carrying, and if they were to continue the same route. He looked at the slip of paper she had passed him with the name of the security firm she had taken from the vans she’d seen outside her local station. It was a well-known firm: he didn’t know if he could get any information from them. He needed a drink, a large one, to stop himself shaking. No way would he be able to go in to work. He really did feel ill.
Dolly drove back to the manor and, as she turned into the drive the headlamps picked out the large rubbish tip still burning. She got out, leaving the lights on, and walked towards it. She examined it, satisfied it was big enough and, most certainly, deep enough.
When she got in she found the kitchen in a mess: dirty soup plates, tinned mince on a pan left to one side, dried-out baked beans in another, stacks of used cups and mugs. Every surface was food-stained and filthy. She pursed her lips and dumped her handbag, throwing aside her coat. She found Ester lying stretched out on the sofa with a glass of wine, reading the TV Times. Julia was asleep in an easy chair, the television blaring. Neither heard Dolly. She walked up the big staircase, looked into Connie’s room but it was empty. Then she went up to the second landing to the children’s room.
The last person Dolly expected to see was Gloria, wrapped in an old dressing gown, sitting with Sheena on her knee. The other two were fast asleep in the big old-fashioned double bed. ‘Oh, said the little pig. What will the big bad wolf do?’ Gloria rocked the child, stroking her hair. ‘Well, he’ll huff and he’ll puff and he’ll blow the house down.’
Sheena lifted her tiny hand to Gloria’s cheek. ‘You’re not our mummy, are you?’
Gloria shook her head. The little girl’s question touched her heart — so many different homes, so many different foster carers, the little girl was completely confused.
Gloria kissed her. ‘No, I’m not your mummy.’
‘Doesn’t she love us any more?’
‘Yes, of course she does. But you know, Sheena, a long, long time ago I had a little girl, just like you, and I had to go away, just like your mummy has had to go away. My little girl never had a nice house to live in and I couldn’t ever see her again but you will. Your mummy being away doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. She does. And she’s arranged for us all to look after you until she comes back. Do you understand?’
‘No.’ Sheena yawned.
‘My little girl never understood but then it was too late, you see, I couldn’t see her. But you’ll be able to see your mummy. One of us will always take you to see her so you won’t forget who she is, and in the meantime we’ll all be like double mothers. How’s that?’
Sheena was asleep, and Dolly stayed where she was, looking at a Gloria she hadn’t known existed, a sad, lonely Gloria who was being so gentle and caring, so unlike the hard, uncouth exterior she showed to them all. They all had secrets, all had hidden pain. Somehow she had not expected Gloria to have so much.
Chapter 14
Connie was doing up her blouse and Jim his trousers at the same time as he closed the gates for the nine-thirty express to pass through. John stood at the level crossing, waiting, impatient that he’d just missed the orange light. As it turned to red, he looked at the signal box, as if to blame it for his being held up, and saw her, laughing, her arms wrapped around the attendant. He was stunned. He kept blinking, sure he must have been mistaken. It wasn’t his Connie up there, was it?
Connie skipped down the steps, looked up and blew a kiss, then hurried towards the taxi rank. She was in the cab heading for the manor when the gates opened and didn’t see John charge up the steps of the signal box or witness his embarrassment when Jim opened the door.