She's Out (49 page)

Gloves, hats and boots were laid out in the kitchen. Norma’s police cape and hat were in readiness for Julia. The hours ticked by slowly, every minute seeming to take half an hour, and
Connie believed the hands of the clock were not moving, she’d looked at them so many times.

Dusk came, and Dolly asked if anyone felt hungry. Nobody did. They were still quietly going about their tasks, checking and double-checking everything.

‘Keys are in the same place at the stable,’ Connie said, sitting down. She kept coughing as if she had a tickle in her throat and her hands felt icy cold with nerves.

Mike parked the car and, wearing a black polo-necked sweater, black ski pants and sneakers, a black woollen hat, eased the old rowing boat silently into the water. He had a
fishing rod and a bag with him, nothing else. He rowed across the lake to the opposite side. He saw no one, heard not a sound. The lake was black, the bridge in darkness, lit only by the flash of
the signals as a train passed across and on into the distance. He tied up the boat alongside the small wooden jetty and crossed to the anchored speedboat. He pulled back the canopy and climbed
inside, checking the ignition and wiring. That accomplished, he went into the woods and searched for the lights. His gloves were sodden but he didn’t remove them. He had to pull away the
bracken and twigs hiding the gear and he carried each item to the end of the jetty, where he set up the high-powered spotlight. The silence was unnerving, nothing moved and the lake remained still
and dark. He could not risk testing the spotlight, just hoped to God it would work. If it didn’t, there was nothing he could do about it.

By nine thirty, the women were anxiously waiting for the time to pass. They didn’t speak but the atmosphere was very tense. Connie continued to clear her throat until
Gloria said she should have a drink of water as it was getting on her nerves.

‘I’m sorry.’

That’s all right, love. Just a sip, mind – remember what I said about you drinking.’ Dolly was reading a magazine.

‘I hope we can trust him,’ Ester said for the umpteenth time. Dolly ignored her but she wasn’t really seeing any of the magazine pages of knit-yourself-a-bolero or the
new-fashioned beachwear. She knew Mike had a hell of a lot to lose: two kids, a wife and a future, to put it plainly, but she didn’t bother saying anything to Ester. She’d said it
before and knew it was just Ester’s nerves talking.

Gloria crossed and uncrossed her legs, just as she had for the last half-hour. They were at breaking point.

‘Time to get dressed,’ Julia said, and walked out. Connie sprang up and Dolly tossed aside the magazine.

‘We’ve got awhile yet, Connie, just relax.’

Julia pulled on her boots, a thick sweater over her shirt and began to do up the big rain cape. Like an omen, there was a sudden roll of thunder.

‘Oh, shit,’ Ester said, running to the window. ‘It’s gonna rain.’

‘Never mind the rain,’ Dolly said calmly. ‘If it’s raining the cops won’t hang around.’

‘If there’s a storm the horses will freak,’ Julia said as she picked up Norma’s police hat. ‘If the thunder makes them edgy, pull the reins in tight,’ she
said, putting on the hat, and walking to the kitchen door.

‘Where are you going?’ Ester said sharply.

‘Just to take a leak,’ Julia said, slipping out.

‘You’ve already been,’ Ester said, following.

‘Let her go,’ Dolly said quietly, and Ester turned back, drew Dolly aside.

She whispered, ‘She’ll be snorting coke.’

‘I know, but if she needs it to straighten out, then let her do it.’ Dolly ignored the other women’s gasps, and looked out of the window. ‘It’s coming down hard,
the ground will be slippery.’

‘Oh. Christ,’ Connie said, panting with nerves.

Dolly opened a bottle of Scotch and got down some mugs. ‘For those that need a bit of bottle.’

Upstairs Julia knocked back half a tumbler of vodka and then snorted two thick lines of coke, the last of it, but, then, this might be her last night. She stared at her reflection in the
dressing-table mirror. She looked huge in the big cape and boots, and she put on the hat, pulling it down low over her face, tucking in her hair. She had a black scarf round her neck, and she
tested that it was loose round the front, ready to ease over her face. She looked at her reflection for a long time and then smiled. She was confident, and as she held out her hand in front of her,
it was steady – even if her head wasn’t.

Julia got back as the women began pulling on their boots. No one spoke. She passed through the kitchen and a roll of thunder heralded her opening the back door, which still caught a bit from the
damage of the police raid, and she yanked it hard. They could see the rain coming down in a sheet outside.

‘Well, take care. Hold the reins in tight, make them know who’s boss, especially over the jumps.’

They nodded, and Ester went over and reached up to kiss her face. ‘Take care, Julia, for chrissakes. Take care on that live rail.’

Julia smiled. ‘It’s Helen that’s got to take care. I don’t want her thrown up into a tree like that dog Connie told us about.’

Connie moaned softly. She was chalk-white but at least she’d stopped coughing. One good belt of Scotch had stopped that.

‘See you later.’ Julia went into the stable to saddle up Helen. She was the only one not to have her hooves clad as Julia would not use any road. She was to head to the far side of
the bridge over fields and cross far along the line from their level crossing to ride back to the bridge. They all had their coats on when they heard Julia moving out. The clock registered ten
thirty.

Mike blew into his gloves. His hands were freezing and he was sodden from the downpour. A bolt of lightning had lit up the bridge and lake for a second and he just hoped to God
it had not lit him. There was still no sign of a living soul.

The convoy was halfway to its destination. The heavy rain did not slow it down and the armoured security wagon was cushioned between two police cars as it continued towards the
station.

Colin was at the wheel, maintaining radio contact between all three vehicles. The empty mail train left Marylebone station. At first they were told to stand by and wait as the engine was still
playing up, even after a complete service, but the problem ceased as soon as they gained speed. The carriage to be used for the collection of the mailbags was at the centre of the four-carriaged
train. It looked like an ordinary passenger train except for the blacked-out windows. The three guards sat inside playing cards, a good hour to go before they picked up the money bags. They were
relaxed and casual.

‘I’ll be glad when tonight’s over. I hope to God they don’t make this a regular thing, I hate getting home this late. Anyone know the next route they’re gonna
take?’

‘No one does.’

‘Bloody train’s clapped out. You’d think carrying this much dough they’d have some kind of high-powered armour-plated one, wouldn’t you?’

The rain splattered on to the carriage windows. ‘Your deal, mate, and let’s hope this doesn’t get into a fuckin’ storm, we’ll be soaked.’

‘I won’t. I’m not moving out. Let the security blokes carry the gear in. Right, ace’s wild, this one’s dealer’s choice.’

His two friends groaned as the train continued down the tracks, unimpeded by any other. There was an ominous distant roll of thunder.

Julia moved slowly across the field. She was worried they would all have trouble as the ground was slippery, the mud forming in some of the ditches between the fields. She
opened two gates in readiness. They stuck in old tractor ruts and she had to dismount to secure the gate back, lifting it slightly over the squelching mud. She checked the time; she’d have to
get a move on, the gates had already delayed her by three or four minutes. Julia pushed the horse on in the dark night. She was just a shadow, no lights, no streetlights. She began a steady canter
in a wide circle. She had a long ride ahead to get back to the far end of the bridge, right round the far side of the lake and then up a dangerous high bank to take Helen on to a narrow ledge
before moving down on to the line itself. It didn’t worry her –she’d been doing it for weeks – but she felt uneasy about the heavy rain. The steep bank was slippery and
Helen could stumble or, worse, she might inadvertently hit the dangerous high-voltage cable, but she didn’t slow her pace, just kept going.

The women parked the Mini in a narrow field gateway. They kept to the grass verge as they headed towards the stables, passing two small cottages. Lights were on in both and
they moved silently in single file: Dolly, Gloria, Ester and, coming up at the rear, Connie.

They saw no one, and there was only one street-light to worry them, almost directly outside the cottages. They carried the cladding and saddle-bags between them, only Gloria, Ester and Dolly
with the shotguns. They found the stable key and unlocked the main doors. By torchlight they began to clad the horses’ hooves in the thick sacking bags. It was eleven fifteen; they had three
quarters of an hour before the train was due.

When the horses were ready, they rode out one by one, each with their orders and position, the rain still pelting down. The sacking would give more grip in the mud.

Dolly was first out. She walked her horse down the lane, then made for the woods. It was inky black and not a light could be seen until she broke from the cover of the trees and headed towards
the railway line below. She had to cross a small bridge about half a mile from the signal box. She winced as the horse’s hooves thudded on the wooden-planked bridge. She held the reins
tightly, keeping to the narrow grass verge, and started to make her way along the side of the tracks. She slipped off the horse and tied him up firmly. She had seen no one, and in fact she began to
be glad of the rain as it was really pelting down. Dolly squeezed under the protective wired fence, already cut in readiness, and moved inch by inch towards the station car park. Above was the
signal box, lit up, with Jim inside. Dolly crept beneath it, taking out the wire-clippers and the razor-sharp hatchet. Now she would have to wait and hope to God nobody walked by the slip road and
saw her horse tethered. But as they had done it eight or nine times and no one had ever passed even close to it, she hoped they would not tonight. Half an hour seemed like a long time.

Connie and Gloria, using a different route, rode, like Julia, to the far side of the bridge. Unlike Julia, they did not have the long ride to get on to the tracks. The horses slithered a little
in the mud but, on the whole, were steady as they galloped towards the far side of the lake. They had one riderless horse, Ester’s, as she had already gone to her designated position, on the
far side of the bridge. Once there, with the shotgun ready and loaded, she was to wait for the train. It would not be stopped in front of her; they were going to blow it half-way across the bridge,
further down the track, the old railway sign the only protection for Ester if too much Semtex was used. She prayed that Gloria now knew the right amount.

Dolly could hear the distant rumble of the train. It was still so far down the tracks she couldn’t see it but she tensed up in anticipation, hoping that the others were in their positions
and ready.

Connie and Gloria tied up the three horses firmly. They were a bit frisky and didn’t like the continuous heavy downpour. Connie followed Gloria as they passed the jetty and Mike appeared.
He did no more than look towards them, signal, and start to move to the end of the jetty. He then crouched low, waiting. There were still about twenty minutes before the train was due at the
station.

Gloria and Connie moved to the end of the bridge, along the railway line in the opposite direction from Ester. Gloria motioned to Connie to remain behind as she bent low and, keeping pressed to
the small parapet at the edge of the rail, she checked that the wires and the plastic-covered packages were all intact. She worked quickly and only hesitated once as she double-checked the live and
the earthed wire. She had gone over it so many times she now closed her eyes tight and swore. ‘Please, dear God, have I got it right? Red into the right socket, blue into the left and the
earth between them?’ She pictured the neat drawings Mike had made that Dolly had told her to burn, wishing she still had them.

‘You can do it blindfolded. Come on, gel, don’t blow your bottle now.’

Gloria inched her way back towards Connie, who was holding her shotgun. She whispered, ‘Can you see him? Is he in position?’

Connie screwed up her eyes to peer over the bridge and looked twenty-five feet down. It was pitch black. ‘I can see something at the end of the jetty.’

Gloria nodded. They were under strict instructions not to speak, not to say one word throughout the robbery. She could just make out the outline of the tethered horses by the trees.

Julia had a tough time riding Helen down the steep bank. The horse didn’t like it one bit and kicked out with her back hooves as Julia held on like grim death. She
gritted her teeth as they slid further towards the track. Helen tossed and jerked her head but they were on the narrow edge before the line itself so Julia eased Helen forward, one hoof at a time,
on to the centre plank. Either side were the live cables but there was an eight-inch-high border and she began to move Helen slowly down the precarious narrow plank. She was as dainty as a
ballerina, encouraged and patted, as they got closer and closer to the spot Julia had rehearsed for stopping the train. Now came the really dangerous move: she had to turn Helen to stand sideways
on, blocking the entire rail. A roll of thunder made her freeze as Helen tossed her head. Not liking the narrow ledge, the horse lifted one foreleg and almost came down on the cable but Julia
shouted sharply. ‘Still’, a police command, and the wonderful old horse froze her position. Julia waited for her to settle before turning her and moving slowly sideways.

Mike brought the boat further round. He had the spotlight switch in his hand. He could see none of the women, but knew they must be in position because the horses were
tethered.