Widows

Nearly 6,000 miles away, holed up in his stinking lock-up with only the vicious Alsatian for company, Harry Rawlins felt equally vulnerable, but for very different reasons. He had never felt so powerless or so alone. He was a dead man: he couldn’t surface, he couldn’t touch the cash in any of his bank accounts, he couldn’t even go home. He’d have to leave the country, but he didn’t know how long he would have to wait before he could do that safely. Dolly... he clenched his fists at the thought of her. Years ago, he had wept with her for their stillborn son. He had betrayed her — but she had beaten him at his own treacherous game.

But it wasn’t over, no, not by any means. No one beat Harry Rawlins.

Shirley was in the bedroom looking at herself in the long mirror, wondering if she should have put on the blue dress. No, she thought, the silver one is perfect. She stepped back to admire her slender body. Boy, do I look good... In fact, more than good — I look absolutely beautiful.

Bella walked in through the adjoining bedroom door. She shimmered, draped from head to toe in a black sequin dress. ‘Nice bum!’ she commented to Shirley and they both laughed. She shouted to Dolly to come out and join the party.

‘Come on, Dolly!’ Shirley added. ‘We’re all waiting for you!’

Shirley’s money was in bundles on the coffee table. Linda’s was piled in her lap and she was singing at the top of her voice. Bella’s money was thrown, carelessly, on an elegant armchair. She sang along with Linda, belting out their own dodgy version of ‘My Way.’ Shirley swirled round the room, loving the feel of her dress as it spun out and showed her knickers. Bella, not to be outdone, went into a Shirley Bassey stance and began singing ‘Goldfinger’ over the top of Linda. The atmosphere was electric as the girls let loose, without a care in the world.

Shirley gulped more champagne, lit a cigarette and began parading up and down the room as if she was on a catwalk. Linda stood up with a hairbrush in her hand and pretended it was a microphone.

‘An’ now we have Miss Shirley Miller! And what are your hobbies, Miss Miller?’

‘Well, I likes children and ROBBIN’ BANKS!’ Shirley shrieked as she threw a wad of her money into the air.

Dolly knotted the dressing gown round her waist, wiped the steamy mirror clear, and stared at her face. Her wet hair hung down like rats’ tails. She looked — and felt — haggard and old. She pressed her forehead against the cold mirror. The tears wouldn’t come now. That it? she thought to herself. Crying done. All dried up and sealed back inside.

Linda helped herself to some caviar from the room service trolley and fingered Dolly’s pile of notes, which were in her small holdall on the sofa. Dolly had explained that she’d split the money equally, and that the rest was hidden in the convent. She’d also explained that she’d taken back £5000 from each of them to cover all their up-front expenses. Everyone had been more than happy with the deal, but something else was now on Linda’s mind. She stood close beside Bella.

‘Shall I tell Shirley about the phone call?’ she whispered.

Bella spun round and gave Linda a dirty look. ‘No. Just forget it. You don’t know it was him for a fact. You agreed you must have been mistaken, so forget it.’

Shirley poured herself another glass of champagne. ‘What were ya both talking about?’

Linda gave Bella a quick look, then sat on the sofa. ‘I put a call into London, to Dolly’s house. I know we weren’t supposed to, but, well, I did cos I was worried about you.’

Shirley shrugged her shoulders. ‘Dolly never said anything to me.’

Linda looked down. ‘Dolly never answered. Harry did.’ Before Shirley could speak, Linda carried on, ‘I know it was him. It was Harry.’

Bella poured herself a drink. ‘I’m not arguing with you, sugar, we’ve been over it a dozen times already.’

Shirley couldn’t take in what Linda had just said. She looked toward the bedroom. ‘Are you sure? Are you sure it was him, Linda?’

‘He was the only one who ever called her “Doll.”’ Linda was getting uptight. ‘The man said, “Is that you, Doll?” It had to be him. He used to call for Joe and his voice sounded the same. I’m tellin’ you — Harry Rawlins is alive.’

They sat in silence, looking at each other. Was Harry alive and, more importantly, did Dolly know all along? Shirley was the first to break the silence. She told them everything: Harry’s shredded clothes in the wardrobe, Eddie watching the house day and night, Eddie breaking in and killing Wolf, Eddie beating her up. She leapt to her feet as if she’d had a sudden revelation: ‘I knew it! Well, actually, I thought she might be shacking up with Eddie, but Harry makes much more sense. So, she never lost him.’