She's Out

by Lynda La Plante

Ester nodded. “Yeah, well, we all agree it’s a great idea, and I know you may regret buying this place now, but when you’ve done it up, Dolly, think how many kids you can give a place to.”

  Dolly sighed. “Yeah, it’s just the finances, isn’t it? And that’s what I’m going to use the diamonds for. Now, if any of you have any thoughts about getting a cut, then let me tell you, you’ve not got a hope in hell. They are mine, all mine, and I’ll need every penny.”

  “But we know that. All we’re doing is offering to help you run this place,” Ester said warmly. The other women muttered in agreement.

  Julia leaned forward. “Will you need any help in getting the diamonds back from this guy? Any help fencing them? Surely we can help you there.”

  “For what? A cut?” Dolly asked.

  “Hell, no, just to show you how we all feel,” Ester said, beaming. She could almost feel the money in her hands, she was so close.

  Dolly leaned back. “Well, maybe I will need some help. I’ve been away a long time, and I’m not sure who to fence them to.”

  Kathleen received a nudge beneath the table. “Eh, Dolly, leave that to me, I know the best. You get them and we’ll soon have them sorted out, and cash in your hand. How much you reckon they’re worth?”

  Dolly paused before she answered. “Maybe three and a half million . . . I doubt if I’ll see more than one, maybe one and a quarter back.”

  There was a lot of murmuring and quiet sneaky looks as they each suddenly felt rich. Then Dolly stood up. “I’m collecting them tomorrow so we’ll soon see what the value is. Now I’m off to bed, maybe just have a walk around. Goodnight.”

  They all chorused goodnight, as Dolly fetched her coat, refusing everyone’s offer to join her.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Ester put out her hand. “Put it there. What did I tell you?”

  A few slapped Ester’s hand, but Julia rocked in her chair. “She doesn’t seem eager to give us a cut, Ester. Maybe you’re starting to celebrate a bit too early.”

  Ester gazed at her. “She brings them here and we don’t get a cut, we don’t wait for her to fence them, we simply take them! Agreed?”

  They all nodded. They seemed to have forgotten Angela who had not said a word throughout. Ester reached out to prod her. “You just got lucky, darlin’, but open your mouth to her about this and you’ll be sorry, very sorry.”

  Angela hunched her shoulders. “I won’t say anything to anyone.” But her mind was buzzing. Mike would definitely talk to her if she told him about the diamonds.

  Ester pulled back her bedroom curtains an inch, the room in darkness. “She’s still out there, Julia, looking at the house, as if she’s checking us out.”

  “Try just checking out what you lumbered her with,” Julia drawled from the bed.

  Ester jumped on the bed, crawling toward Julia on her hands and knees.

  “Can I ask you something?” Julia said as Ester nuzzled her neck. “Would you kill her for them?”

  Ester lay back against the pillows. “No. Let me ask you something. If she caught us taking them, do you think Dolly would kill us?”

  Julia thought for a moment and then said, very quietly, “I’m sure of it.”

  Dolly paced round the garden. The night was chilly and she was cold, but she didn’t want to go inside. It was talking about him; it brought it all back. She walked slowly toward the swimming pool: the dank, dark water made her remember even more clearly. The way he smiled at her, waiting there by the lake. She would never forget the look of utter surprise on his face when she brought out the gun and fired: a half-mocking smile, then that moment of fear. And then he was dead, his body falling backward into the water.

  She rubbed her arms, turning back to the house. She was going to make her dream come true, on a bigger scale than she had ever hoped for—with or without that bunch of slags.

  Chapter 6

  Dolly was up at six. She went through the Yellow Pages and earmarked the local building companies. She couldn’t wait to get started. At nine, she had Angela sitting at the reception desk, calling all the companies and asking for them to come and give estimates. She gave the women orders to list what they felt needed to be done in different parts of the house, and they all went about the delegated duties with a zest and energy that sparkled like the diamonds they all expected to get a slice of.

  By ten o’clock, the drive was filled with an odd assortment of trucks as builders arrived and started looking over the house, all vying with each other to win the business. Mrs. Rawlins wanted an immediate verbal estimate, and 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 weren’t genuine, she’d soon find out. She then went into the town hall to speak to Mrs. Tilly again, feeling more confident than the last time, asking 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 liked Dolly, her forthrightness, her eagerness and, above all, her genuineness. When she went to see the chairman of the board, she would ask if there was any possibility of moving Mrs. Rawlins’s application forward.

  Back at the house, Dolly handed out the wellington boots, sweaters 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; she reckoned that as he was a one-man show she could make a cash deal and cut down on the VAT payments.

  Working from the top of the house down to the cellars, he pointed out what structural work was required. Firstly the roof needed to be replaced and the chimneys were also dangerous. Every window sash had to be renewed, and all the plumbing in every bathroom, as well as the boilers; and ceilings had to be re-plastered. In other words, the manor needed to be stripped back to the bare boards and rebuilt. He said it would cost between sixty and seventy thousand pounds, and that excluded fixtures and fittings; with those it would come to at least a hundred and fifty thousand. And that was without taking into consideration the gardens, stables, swimming pool and orchard. But even with the extra work that would mean, his charges were still way under any of the larger firms’.

  “How long will it all take?” Dolly asked.

  “Six months at least.”

  Dolly 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 still have to install fire alarms and child safety equipment. Even so, she couldn’t help feeling excited. She felt confident she could 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.

  Big John agreed to cut out the VAT for cash payment and departed a happy man to begin hiring workmen, plumbers, carpenters, and brickies.

  The women, in wellington boots, jeans and sweaters, began to “look busy,” with a lot of comings and goings, without actually 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 n
ot 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, 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.

  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 down from the loft. “Well, get her off the bloody phone.” She climbed down the ladder as Ester started pacing 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 several large canvas 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 toward the house with Ester, carrying what looked like a body 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 toward the cellar door 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 dialed again. “Keep getting put onto 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 ask for Jimmy. Angela did as she was told. Dolly leaned forward, listening. “Ask him if he’s 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 later 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 still hadn’t 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 button to cut off the call, and told Angela to carry on chasing the social services, as Ester and Gloria came up from the cellars. “Still clearing the junk from the stable, Dolly,” Ester told her.

  “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 went out smiling, and reported to the women outside that it looked like Dolly was going to pick up the diamonds the following afternoon. They all started clearing the rubbish with renewed vigor.

  Dolly waited until Angela had started telephoning again before she slipped down into the basement to see what Gloria and Ester had been 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 pried 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 . . .”

  At seven the workmen erecting scaffolding finally left. The women sat watching TV, all of them knackered, apart from Dolly who remained at the kitchen table making notes, and all went up to bed early. She was fast asleep when Ester suddenly sat bolt upright, nudging Julia. “Somebody’s downstairs, can you hear?”

  Julia listened, and then crept to the doorway. She couldn’t hear anything. Ester looked out of the window and whispered, “She’s out there again—look, up by the woods.”

  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?”

  “Who cares? Come back to bed,” Julia yawned.

  “I don’t trust her one bit,” Ester said, reluctantly returning to bed. A couple of 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, falling back into a troubled sleep.

  The workmen arrived at six the next morning. They were still putting up the scaffolding, but they had also begun to clear out old carpets and broken furniture, lay down planks for wheelbarrow access into the hallway, and put bags of cement by the open front door. Dolly was up and having breakfast when Big John tapped on the door. “Scaffolding should be up by this afternoon and we’ll start clearing out anything you don’t want, and 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, John, 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, you’d be surprised.”

  Dolly paid no attention, concentrating 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.”

  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 dialing. 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.”

  It was a beautiful clear day and Dolly was walking up to the woods. She stopped as she heard the sound of a train, and looked over to see the level-crossing gates open and close. A square-faced boy was sitting on a stool, obviously a trainspotter. He was making copious notes in a black schoolbook, checking his watch, face set in concentration. Dolly strolled down onto the 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, was 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, “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 looked much older than at first sight but she thought no more of him as she wandered back up to the woods.

  Mrs. Tilly replaced the receiver and checked her watch. She thought it was probably best to discuss what she’d just heard 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.