She's Out (17 page)

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 all 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.

‘Will you all start clearing the vegetable patch? I got bags and bags of seeds we can start planting,’ Dolly said, as they started frying bacon and eggs.

Julia walked in, face flushed. ‘You know, those old stables are in quite good nick – be nice to get a horse. I used to have one when I was a kid. They’re not that expensive to
keep, or to buy, you’d be surprised.’

Dolly paid no attention but concentrated on her notes.

‘Did you hear what I said, Dolly?’ Julia said, as she threw off her jacket.

‘Last thing we need right now, love, is a horse. Let’s get the garden in order first. We can start that while the house is being done over, no need to fork out for gardeners, most of
it’s just rubbish that’s got to be shifted.’

The women looked at one another, having no desire to ‘shift’ anything but the eggs and bacon.

‘I’m going up to London this afternoon. I’ll take Angela with me.’ Dolly left the kitchen and went to the yard.

Ester closed the door behind her. ‘Told you, she’s going for them this afternoon. Get Angela in here, go on.’

Gloria caught Angela dialling. She crooked her finger. ‘Who you callin’?’

‘My mum, let her know where I am.’

‘Well, do it later. Come in here, we want to talk to you.’

Dolly walked up to the woods. It was a beautiful clear day but she stopped as she heard the sound of a train from the small local station. She watched the level-crossing gates
open and close, and saw a square-faced boy sitting on a stool, a trainspotter. He was making copious notes in a black schoolbook, checking his watch, face set in lines of concentration. Dolly
strolled down from the woods on to the small narrow lane by the crossing.

‘Good morning,’ she said cheerfully.

The boy looked up: his face was even squarer close up and his thick black hair stuck up in spikes. ‘Good morning. My name is Raymond Dewey,’ he said loudly. ‘I’m here
every day, checking on the trains. I’m the time-keeper. That was the nine o’clock express, on time, always on time.’

‘Really? You have an important job then, don’t you? Raymond, is it?’

‘That is correct, Raymond Dewey of fourteen Cottage Lane. Who are you?’

‘Well, Raymond, I’m Dolly, Dolly Rawlins.’

‘Hello, Dolly, very nice to meet you.’

She smiled at his over-serious face. Bright button eyes glinted back as he licked his pencil tip and returned to his work.

‘Well,’ Dolly said then, ‘I won’t disturb you. Bye-bye.’

He stuck out his stubby-fingered hand and she shook it. His grasp was strong, almost pulling her off her feet. Close to, he was much older than she had first thought but she thought no more of
him as she wandered back towards the manor, going via the small narrow road, then cutting back up to the woods.

Mrs Tilly replaced the receiver and checked her watch. She thought it was probably best to discuss it with Mrs Rawlins personally, so she left her office.

The women were grouped around the vegetable patch. Connie was peering at seed packets as Julia dug the soil, turning it over. Two wheelbarrows were filled with weeds and
rubbish.

‘Should these be goin’ in now?’ Gloria asked, as she opened another packet.

Julia began to stick in rods. ‘Bit late, but if the weather keeps fine it’ll be okay.’

Gloria sprayed out the packet.

‘
Not there!
Over here, what do you think I’m putting the rods in for?’ Julia shouted.

‘Well, I didn’t know. What you got in your packet, Connie?’

Connie pulled at the top to open it and the seeds all fell out.

‘Pick them up,’ said Julia, bad-tempered.

‘What, all of them?’ asked Connie. There’s hundreds!’

Gloria laughed and kicked at the seeds. ‘Who gives a bugger? Just push them over there.’

They saw a Mini Metro pull up by the front path. ‘Who’s that?’ Julia asked.

‘I dunno, she’s driving this way now.’

It was Mrs Tilly. ‘I’m looking for Mrs Rawlins.’

‘Try the back door,’ said Gloria. ‘Drive round the back, past the stables. She was in the kitchen.’

Mrs Tilly smiled her thanks and pulled away.

‘Who’s that?’ Gloria asked.

‘Why didn’t you ask her?’ said Julia, impatiently.

Connie, on her hands and knees, was picking up one seed at a time. ‘Ugh, the soil’s gettin’ under my nails. It feels all gritty and horrid.’

‘Take them off, then,’ said Gloria as she kicked more soil over a mound of seeds.

‘No, I won’t – they cost a lot of money.’

Gloria peered down at her. ‘Come this afternoon, sweetface, you’ll have a lot too, so come on, let’s go and see what the Metro wanted.’

Mrs Tilly tooted the horn and stepped out of the car as Dolly hurried out from the kitchen.

‘Mrs Tilly, good morning.’

‘Good morning, Mrs Rawlins. I can’t stop but I wanted to tell you personally. We had a cancellation for this afternoon so the board are reviewing your case and, if you’re
available, can see you this afternoon at four thirty. I’m sorry it’s such short notice but as they’re all gathered, it seemed a shame not to jump the queue, so to
speak.’