Ruby swallowed a mouthful of pizza. ‘Sure. She’s got the Coldstream Guards.’
‘Coldstream?’ Bianca shivered. ‘Don’t you mean the Hotstream Guards?’
They all roared with laughter. When the telephone rang, Cindy grunted, irritated by the intrusion and struggled to her feet. While Cindy gave an interview to KMBC, Bianca and Jezette eagerly turned back to Ruby for more Royal gossip.
Outside, FBI sharpshooters were flexing their trigger fingers. Inside, the hostages were having a heated discussion on whether Fergie should go back to Andrew.
Bianca stood up, stretched her back then wandered over to the window. ‘Hey, Ruby,’ she mumbled, peering through the window. ‘Did you say your Indian guy is cute?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Come take a look. Jezette, turn off the lights so she can see better.’
Ruby went to the window.
‘Is that him?’ Bianca whispered.
With the room suddenly plunged into darkness, the scene beyond the glass jumped out at Ruby in stark clarity. Payat! And there was Edward, his arm around Donna. Evidently they had been unable to wait until midnight.
She saw Molly, Marjorie and the Daughters of the British Empire. There was Karla and his biker buddies. How long had they been standing out in the freezing cold?
Then, as her eyes moved across the crowd, she blinked. Like a row of ghosts rising up before her, she saw Claire … Arnaud … The Audrey/Brendas … Aunt Abigail … Vanessa. Ruby shook her head vigorously trying to dislodge the image, but they were still there. She was hyperventilating.
‘Oh, my God! I’ve got my whole goddam history out there! My stepmum, my stepsister, my stepsister’s husband. Even my mum’s friends. How the hell did they know I was here?’
‘TV, what else?’
Ruby’s thoughts whirled. How did they get here so fast! She tried to work it out. Aunt Abigail, Vanessa and her friends had been in New York. Claire and Arnaud had been at an opera in Chicago. Ruby glanced at her watch. Eleven o’clock. She’d been in the bank for five hours. Time enough for them to have seen the news flash, phone each other and fly down.
‘What you waiting for?’ Jezette cried. ‘Go out and say hi.’
Ruby imagined Claire’s haughty gaze sweeping over her; heard the whinny of false concern as her stepsister mentally rehearsed the anecdote that would delight her cocktail coterie.
And Vanessa?
Vanessa would see a girl with bleached blond hair; a girl who couldn’t hold her marriage together. Vanessa would recoil from the whisky fumes and cigarette smoke on Ruby’s breath, unable to recognise the girl she had groomed with such military precision
Ruby had tried so hard to be another Claire and had failed. But if she wasn’t a Claire, what was she? From childhood she had been like Play-Doh moulded in the hands of others: her grandfather, Vanessa, Cheltenham Ladies’ Academy. She’d been brought up in a hot-bed of anarchy and rebellion, and then hot-housed to become a Duke’s wife. Now, she didn’t know who she was.
Her eyes lingered on Payat. Oh, how she wished she could have loved him.
And Edward and Donna? They were a match made in heaven. And Ruby was glad.
She gazed at the Audrey/Brendas. They had been counting on Ruby giving them a romantic ending, but that couldn’t happen now.
Ruby searched the crowd for Hank. Then she saw him … cuddling Roxanne. Ruby felt heartsick. This was wrong, so wrong! Hank was her man. They were meant to be together – forever. Misery struck at her, piling a sort of terror upon the ache and yearning. What if she could never forget him?
She stepped back from the window, a cigarette pack crushing under her heel. ‘Cindy, give me the gun.’
‘What for?’
‘If they can’t find it, they can’t prosecute you.’
As Cindy hesitated, Ruby snatched it from her. ‘I’m taking it with me.’
Bianca chuckled. ‘Hey, gal, you got the green light?’ She took out a lipstick. ‘Gotta look good for the cameras.’
Ruby shrugged into the rabbit patchwork coat and dropped the gun in one of the pockets. ‘I’m not going out the front. I’m going out the back.’ She knew what she wanted: escape. She wanted it fiercely and passionately. It stirred and roared in her and nothing could ever put it back to sleep.
‘What about yer folks?’ Cindy demanded.
‘They’re not my folks. I’ve tried to belong, tried to be what they wanted me to be, but I can’t do it no more. Now I have to find out who I really am.’
‘So where you headin’?’
Ruby imagined the moon above the snow. ‘I’m taking the midnight train to Santa Fe.’
‘With your dog?’
‘No.’ Ruby couldn’t look at Rowdy, knowing she would soften if she did. ‘I have to leave him behind. Could one of you adopt him?’
‘Sure,’ they chorused.
Cindy jerked into action. ‘Okay, Ruby, we’ll send you out the emergency exit. But you still have to get through a wall of feds.’
‘They’re not interested in me; they’re only interested in you.’
‘Sure, but they’re not gonna let you walk off. They’ll want to question you.’
‘We have to distract them.’ Jezette lifted a large firework from her box of shopping, and grinned. ‘What about Rocket Maniac? That’ll get their attention.’ She brought out another one.
Ruby looked down at Rowdy. He was gazing up at her, his teddy in his mouth, wagging his tail at all the excitement. She couldn’t take him. He’d be a burden. She looked at the monster fireworks that Jezette was laying out on the carpet. She looked at Rowdy’s ugly face, a face she had come to love.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m taking Rowdy.’
Jezette shoved a bottle of Wild Turkey into one of Ruby’s pockets. ‘Go see my cousin in Maywood, Los Angeles. I’ll phone and tell her to expect you. Here’s her address and number.’ She shoved a scrap of paper in Ruby’s hand. ‘How much cash you got?’
‘I dunno. About twenty dollars.’
Cindy sighed in exasperation. ‘How far do you s’pect to get with twenty dollars, huh? She headed out of the room. ‘Come on girls, let’s go find some more.’
Ruby grabbed her back. ‘Cindy, you’re in enough shit already without stealing.’
‘If the feds can’t find the money on me, then I haven’t stolen it, have I?’
‘Well … okay.’
With Cindy leading the way, they marched along the corridor to the tellers’ counter and crashed through the tills. All the tills were empty. ‘I’ve got ten dollars,’ Jezette said dispiritedly, taking a crumpled note from her trouser pocket.
‘What’s this?’ Cindy headed to three metal boxes on a low table. She flung back the lids. ‘Jackpot!’
The boxes were crammed with bank notes; neatly-packed and banded with elastic. They grabbed the money and started shoving it into the pockets of Ruby’s coat.
Ruby stood numb. Each bank note was a hundred dollars. Each wad held at least one hundred notes. She felt her coat get heavier and heavier, bulkier and bulkier.
‘I don’t want to scare you, Ruby,’ Bianca whispered, ‘but I figure you’ve got a million dollars on you.’
Cindy turned to the last two boxes and flipped the lids closed. ‘Then you won’t want the rest.’
Ruby’s voice was soft but firm. ‘I want it … all.’
There was a stunned silence.
‘You sure?’ Cindy whispered.
‘Yeah.’ Ruby felt a thrill she had never known. She was robbing a bank!
‘But your coat is already full,’ Bianca pointed out. ‘Where are we going to put it? Down your panties?’
‘Wait.’ Ruby went back to the office, tipped out the contents of her GOOD backpack, returned and tossed the empty bag to Bianca. ‘Fill that.’ As Bianca stuffed it with the rest of the cash, Ruby started loading the carrier bag with left-over pizza, a bottle of water and a torch. When Bianca was finished, she hefted the backpack on to Ruby’s shou
lders.
Ruby viewed her new friends; women with no hope, no future. ‘Girls, this money is for all of us. Meet me at Jezette’s cousin’s place.’
They nodded eagerly. ‘You got it, Ruby!’ ‘I’ll be there.’ ‘Just give me time to pack ma bikini.’
Ruby paused. ‘Jezette, I want you to speak to my stepmom. Tell her … tell her I tried.’
Ruby clicked the leash on Rowdy’s collar and headed down the corridor, her buddies following close behind. They passed the office with the detritus of pizza boxes, cigarette packets, and a neat row of fireworks ready for launch. At the end of the corridor, Ruby paused at the door marked EMERGENCY EXIT. Her friends, in turn, gave her a hug then they stood back, their eyes moist with tears.
‘See you on the beach!’ Cindy opened the door and pushed Ruby out into the night.
Chapter Thirty Three
Hank stood in the crowd, watching the bank. He’d been at home when he’d seen the newsflash on TV. He’d grabbed his coat and jumped in the truck, Roxanne beside him. They’d arrived five minutes ago, when he’d shown his sheriff’s badge to a Fed and gotten the full story. The Fed also pointed out Ruby’s family, who stood in the snow.
Feeling Roxanne shivering beside him, he put an arm around her, but kept his eyes focussed on the bank. Ruby was in there; a hostage. How was she coping? Was she buckling under with terror, or was she still how he’d always known her; full of pride and fire?
The SWAT team was in position, guns at the ready. There was a crisis management team, Mobile Crime Centre, county police, feds, media and medical units. Beyond the perimeter of light stood two Brinks trucks that had arrived early that evening to collect the money.
Three million dollars. That was the rumour going round.
Cindy Prudhomme must think we’re fools, Hank thought. She wasn’t there to talk to her boyfriend; she was there for the money.
‘Hank!’ It was Molly, pushing through the crowd towards him. ‘When did you get here?’
‘Just now.’ He made the introductions. ‘Molly, this is my sister, Roxanne.’
Molly seemed confused. ‘But … but Ruby said Roxanne was your girlfriend?’
‘Why would she say that?’
‘Because she saw you ice-skating together. She said she’d never seen two people more in love.’
Roxanne snorted. ‘Me? Love this great caboose?’
Hank was thinking. The ice rink. What had Ruby seen? Christ! She’d seen Roxanne sit on my knee. That’s why she called me a conniving sneak.
Branagh appeared, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bank. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me if that Ruby Mortimer-Smyth was mixed up in this.’
‘For Christ’s sake,’ Hank stormed. ‘She’s a hostage!’
Branagh shrugged. ‘We’ll soon find out. I always thought you were too lenient with her. Me? I sent Deputy Sheriff Stone to her house to warn her the next time she stepped out of line, she’d be arrested.’
Hank tensed. Ruby must have thought I sent Stone!
Hank didn’t have the luxury of punching Branagh; instead he had to think, to assess the damage. Ruby must have thought he’d sent an officer to threaten her. No surprise Ruby went crazy, driving on the pavement in front of his house and trying to slam the door in his face.
Molly pointed at the row of people outside the Mobile Crime Centre. ‘That’s Ruby’s family. The guy with the ginger hair is her husband, Edward. They’re getting divorced.’
‘Divorced?’ Hank felt his heart leap. He was in with a chance. He stared at the bank. If he could just explain everything to Ruby, set the record straight, she might want to build a life with him. He grabbed Branagh by the arm. ‘Ruby is gonna be in shock, if she gets out alive, so I’m warning you to go easy-’
He stopped. The words rippled through the crowd: The English hostage has been released. The English hostage has been released.
Bewildered, he turned to the cop beside him. ‘I didn’t see her come out.’
The cop clicked off his radio. ‘She went out the rear exit.’
Suddenly, the bank erupted in noise - whizzing, screaming, cracking - as the sky overhead exploded in coloured starbursts. Fireworks! They were shooting out from the windows of the bank building. The crowd was on edge. The feds assumed firing positions.
Hank felt his throat thick with emotion. All he could think was: Ruby is free. She is safe! He had to get to her. ‘Roxanne, stay here.’ He shouldered through the crowd, boots sliding on trampled snow. Ruby would be traumatised, disconnected. He would find her, take her to her family, where she would get the comfort she needed. But he reached the rear exit without seeing her. He showed his badge to a Fed.
‘The English hostage? Where did she go?’
‘She came out with her dog, said her name was Ruby Mortimer-Smyth, but she didn’t want to answer questions until she’d spoken to her family. Then the fireworks went off, and when I looked, she’d gone. So, I guess she’s with her family.’
Hank realised he had missed her in the crowd. He strode back round to the front of the building and went up to her stepmom. ‘Where’s Ruby?’ he asked.
The woman’s face was grey with exhaustion. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But I thought- ?’ Frantically, he scanned the crowd. ‘You haven’t seen her?’
‘No.’
He turned away, closed his eyes, tried to steady his breathing, tried to think. Where was she? She had come out of the rear exit. Okay, that’s where he would start hunting; slowly, methodically.
This time he didn’t hurry. He was a head higher than most people, so he had a good view of the crowd. He retraced his steps to the emergency exit door, stood on the step and looked out, shading his eyes against the TV lights. He saw a ring of cops, the yellow tape, TV crews and bystanders. Beyond that … blackness. The only people to have seen Ruby were the ones by this door. After that, she had disappeared. Had she been so out of her mind with terror, she’d run without thinking?
The snow was coming down heavy. He’d lost ten minutes chasing his tail, ten minutes in which the snow would have covered her tracks. He walked straight ahead, through the feds, under the yellow tape. The snow lay untouched. A high hedge cast a deep shadow. There was nobody out there. He was about to turn back, when he saw something that shouldn’t have been there. He went over and picked it up.
It was a teddy bear.
Rowdy’s teddy bear.
Chapter Thirty Four
Ruby walked along the train tracks, her steps evenly spaced between the wooden sleepers, the snow crunching under her boots. Rowdy trotted beside her. A fat silver moon hung low in the black velvet sky; skeleton trees casting shadows in the ghostly-whiteness.
All at once she experienced a rush of exhilaration. She was free!
At a time when folks wanted to be with their families, she was alone, blissfully alone. ‘Move on’, Cindy had told her. Now she was moving on, not knowing what tomorrow would bring, only knowing that she had to put as much distance between her and her past.
She was not running away - she was starting afresh.
Suddenly, she heard it: that long low blast, soft and welcoming, just like an old friend calling to her. What she hadn’t known was; it had been calling to her right from the start.
The freight train rumbled round the bend towards her. This was the Midnight Run that Mae had told her about that night in the cabin. Mae had also said that freight trains had to slow right down when moving through urban areas.
Avoiding the headlights, Ruby took cover behind a bush. The cab was in darkness; it gave her the impression that there was no-one at the wheel, just a supernatural being driving the train into the night. Slowly, the carriages chugged by, one by one. Her eyes darted along their length, searching for an open door, but they were all closed. Then the tail end came into view and she saw what she’d been searching for.
A box car. Wide open.
She darted from cover, threw in the carrier bag and, keeping pace with the train, lifted
Rowdy up and in. She put her hands flat on the wooden floor and heaved herself up, as if she’d done it a hundred times before.
‘Good boy, Rowdy. Sit.’ She spoke brightly in case he was scared. Crawling along the bare boards, she reached the far wall, shrugged off her backpack and sat against the wood, feeling the rumble of wheels beneath her, carrying her away.
She took the whisky bottle out of the shopping bag, stood it to one side then found the torch and switched it on, jamming it between her knees and directing the beam on the space where she would count the cash.
Rowdy sat beside her. ‘Where’s your teddy?’ she said, fondling his ears.
She was strangely calm and content. She was no longer in control of her destiny, and it felt good. She began by taking the wads of cash from her pockets. Feeling the gun, she put it to one side and carried on unloading. With her pockets emptied, she tipped-up her backpack and now - in the torchlight - she saw a mountain of cash. She didn’t feel guilty. The bank would be insured. She started to count: ‘One thousand, two thousand-’
Suddenly, a beam of light danced over the slatted walls. Fuck! Quickly, she slid her backpack over the money to try and hide it then switched off her flashlight. In the next instant there was a rush of air and the thud of boots on wood.
‘Ruby! It’s me, Hank.’
She felt a leap of joy. Hank. He held the flashlight up to her face, the full force of the beam expertly directed just below her chin. The rest of her remained in blackness. ‘You don’t have to run. It’s all gonna be okay. You’re just scared.’
Ruby, recovering from surprise, now tensed. If Hank lowered his torch he would see everything: the money peeking out from under the backpack, the whisky bottle, and the gun. Slowly, without looking down, she moved a hand across the blackness feeling for the gun.
‘Listen, Ruby. Roxanne is not my girlfriend. She’s my sister.’
‘Sister?’ Ruby paused in her searching.
‘That’s right. And I didn’t send Deputy Sheriff Stone round to your house; it was Branagh.’ Hank was talking quickly. ‘And I know you and your husband are divorcing. So I’m begging you Ruby. Will you marry me?’
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