Widows

She had been waiting in the ladies’ toilet in Regent’s Park for over half an hour when Dolly had eventually breezed down the steps and calmly started to touch-up her make-up in the cracked and peeling wall mirror.

‘You give them the slip?’ Shirley had asked, referring to Dolly’s constant police escort.

‘No,’ Dolly replied through her stretched lips as she reapplied her lipstick. ‘DC Andrews is outside, looking after Wolf.’

Dolly put her make-up away and handed a stuffed envelope to Shirley, who was still trying to figure out whether or not Dolly was pulling her leg. ‘There’s enough in there to cover your mortgage for a few months and more besides. You’ll get that every month. We’ll meet again next Thursday after Miss Paddington; details are in the envelope.’

‘Dolly, I...’ Shirley started, ‘I’m not sure I can handle it. There’ll be shooters, won’t there?’

‘It’s all right. Listen, if you don’t come, we’ll know you’re not up for it, OK?’

Shirley squeezed the envelope and could feel the wad of money inside.

‘You’ll just have to pay me that back, no harm done, all right, darlin’?’ Dolly said with a knowing smile. Then she walked out.

When Shirley had finally dared to pop her head out of the ladies’ loo, she’d just managed to catch a glimpse of a man in the distance walking to his car, glaring back at Dolly walking off in the opposite direction with Wolf by her side. Balls of steel, Shirley had thought to herself. Bet he doesn’t put that in his daily report!

Linda was on her second tea when she and Dolly heard the banging on the main garage doors. Shirley bundled in, clip-clopping across the uneven floor in her stilettos, banging her suitcase into everything and apologizing for being late.

‘Bleedin’ ’ell, what you come as?’ said Linda. ‘Look at her, Dolly, all dressed up like a dog’s dinner. You wearing false eyelashes?’

Shirley dropped her suitcase on the floor straight into the oily puddle, which splashed all over her newly tanned legs. She jumped backward, snapped a heel, stumbled and ended up seated on the bonnet of the dirtiest car in the lock-up. Tears instantly welled in her eyes.

‘I come eighth! I made a right fool of myself and I was awful to me mum.’

Linda spoke again, but more kindly this time. ‘Eight’s not bad, Shirl. How many of you were there?’

‘Ten...’ Shirley mumbled pathetically, and Linda turned quickly away in order to hide a smile.

Shirley stood up straight and brushed her backside down. When she looked at her hand, it was covered in oil and she could only imagine what her tan coat looked like from behind. The final straw was when she noticed that she’d broken a nail. The tears came and she said, ‘I wasn’t going to come.’

‘Did anyone see you?’ Dolly asked, secretly very relieved to see her. She needed to get things back on track.

‘No, I got off at the station, like you instructed.’

‘Did you see anyone?’

‘Well, course I did! It’s a bloody station at kicking-out time!’ Shirley snapped, then immediately checked herself.

Dolly settled Shirley down, patting and stroking her head like she did Wolf’s. She ordered Linda to make some more coffee.

‘I’ve been here half the night and all I’ve done so far is to act as a bloody waitress,’ Linda muttered, stomping off in a huff.

Ten minutes later, the three women were seated round a large crate, stocked up with tea, coffee and biscuits, looking at the maps and drawings Dolly had laid out for them. Linda was nibbling the top off a Custard Cream, Shirley was nibbling her broken nail into some sort of acceptable shape while wafting Dolly’s cigarette smoke away from her face, and Dolly was hunched over the plans, writing copious notes in her diary — things they needed to buy, to do, to learn.

‘Our main problem is going to be the weight we got to carry on our backs from here—’ Dolly added a neat line to her drawing of the Strand underpass — ‘right up to here. That’s where we’ll have the getaway car parked. It’s a run of about fifty yards.’

Dolly looked up to see Linda scraping the custard out of her biscuit with her bottom teeth. ‘You listening?’ Dolly demanded.

Linda confidently recapped everything Dolly had been saying. ‘Nicked van up front to stop the security wagon in the underpass. Nicked van behind to block it in. Shooter keeping cars in check. Shooter getting the guards to open up. Rucksacks full of money.’

‘Very heavy money,’ Shirley corrected.

‘Very heavy money.’ Linda repeated. ‘Fifty yard run to nicked getaway car.’ Linda was clearly very pleased with herself.

Insubordinate bitch, Dolly thought. She’d have to tame her before the big day but, for now, she let it go. ‘One of us will have to learn how to use a chainsaw as well and that’s really heavy,’ Dolly continued.

‘I’ve got no strength in my arms,’ Shirley said. ‘My legs are OK so I’m not worried about the weight of the money.’

‘You’ve carried a third of a million in notes, have you?’ Dolly snapped.