Bella marched to the front door, with Linda in tow. Linda tried to speak to José over her shoulder.
‘Thank you for everything, you’ve been—’
Bella turned and gave her an almighty shove from behind. ‘Just get out, Linda.’
She pushed Linda on to the porch, then paused. She could feel José behind her, the force of his gaze. All of a sudden the anger seemed to drain out of her. She turned, tears in her eyes, wanting more than anything for him just to hold her one more time. For a moment she thought he would. He took a step forward. Bella moved toward him. And then he closed the door in her face.
Dolly Rawlins glanced at her watch as she paced up and down the pavement. She had left several messages on Vic Morgan’s answering machine, asking him to be at the office by nine o’clock. It was now nine twenty. She could feel her blood pressure rising.
A car pulled up outside his office building and Morgan got out.
‘You’re late, Mr. Morgan.’
Morgan knew better than to reply, just walked ahead of her into the building and up the stairs. He could feel her fuming behind him as he fiddled with the lock on the door. Finally he opened it, and she marched past him into his office. Determined not to be intimidated, he paused to fiddle with the handle and push in the loose screw, before following her.
Dolly placed a briefcase on his desk. ‘I want you to go to Australia House and get a visa for Trudie Nunn, and a baby. Make it out to be a big emergency. I’ve got two first class plane tickets, so she can have her kid next to her, and I want her on the first plane out of here. There’s ten thousand in cash and she is to go to the Hilton Hotel in Sydney. Are you listening, Mr. Morgan, I want that woman in Australia.’
Morgan hung his coat on a peg. It promptly fell to the floor. He picked it up and replaced it carefully. ‘I’m listening, Mrs. Marsh, go to Australia House and take that case to Mrs. Nunn...’
He looked her up and down. ‘You know you’ve got dust all down your back?’
Dolly brushed at her coat and realized that her hands were still grimy from the drill hall.
‘I need you to do it straight away. I don’t have much time.’ She watched Morgan walk round his desk, pick up his unopened mail and sit down. He seemed in no hurry whatsoever. ‘Mr. Morgan, I want that woman on that plane.’
He looked at her. ‘Why don’t you just slow down a minute, Mrs. Marsh?’
‘I don’t have the time, Mr. Morgan,’ Dolly snapped. ‘And I’m paying you by the hour, in case you’ve forgotten.’
Morgan began to rip open his letters. ‘I haven’t forgotten, Mrs. Marsh.’ He eased his chair over to the computer, turned it on and began to type out a set of figures. ‘May I inquire what’s in the case?’ he asked, without looking up from his typing.
Dolly didn’t answer.
He looked up at her. ‘You have a smudge here.’ He pointed to his cheek.
Dolly took out a handkerchief, spat on it and rubbed her cheek.
Morgan continued to type for a moment. ‘Are you paying Mrs. Nunn off? Is that it?’
Again Dolly ignored his question. She opened her handbag. ‘You’ll want another advance, I suppose?’
Morgan pressed a key and waited. As the paper chugged out of the printer, he tore off a sheet and handed it to her. ‘If you could just pay me what I’m due?’
Dolly glanced at the figures. ‘Fine. Now look, I want you to check her passport’s in order and take her to the airport. Just make sure that she gets on that plane. I’ll settle this when I—’
‘Now, if you don’t mind,’ he said with a firmness she hadn’t heard in his voice before. ‘And that’s the last work I’ll be doing for you, Mrs. Marsh.’
Dolly looked at him in surprise. He seemed deadly serious. Then slowly she started to smile. ‘Oh, I see. That’s how it is. How much do you want?’
‘It’s nothing to do with the money, Mrs. Marsh. I just don’t like being ordered about.’
He looked serious, but Dolly was sure he was just using the fact that the clock was ticking to get a bigger fee.
‘All right, I’ll pay you fifteen pounds an hour.’
He said nothing.
Dolly tapped her fingers on the desk. ‘Twenty. Twenty pounds per hour, but that’s my final offer.’
Morgan stood up, walked round the desk and picked up the briefcase.
‘No, thank you, Mrs. Marsh. And if you haven’t got the cash to pay me now, you can send it on. And don’t forget these.’ He handed her the plane tickets. ‘Good morning, Mrs. Marsh.’ He gestured toward the door.
Dolly remained seated. She really didn’t know what to do now.
‘Is that your final word?’
‘Like I say, Mrs. Marsh, I don’t mind doing the work, but I object to being treated like your skivvy.’
Dolly picked up the case, walked to the door, and then turned back to him. ‘Is it because I’m a woman?’
He shook his head. ‘That is immaterial, Mrs. Marsh. Now, if you’ll excuse me...’
Dolly realized she’d misjudged him. Trying to bully him or offering more money wasn’t going to work. She need to change tack — and quickly.
She dropped the case with a sob. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Morgan. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’m...’ Another sob, louder this time. ‘...desperate.’
He sighed. ‘You really want this Trudie girl out of your way, don’t you?’
Quietly, almost in a whisper, Dolly said, ‘Yes, I do.’
‘You must be very fond of your sister.’
A look passed between them that said they both knew it was a lie, but Dolly pretended it hadn’t happened. She said simply, ‘My sister loves her husband, and I’m asking you to help me.’
She was hoping underneath it all, Morgan really was a soft touch. She waited for what seemed like an age while he scrutinized her, seemingly making up his mind. Finally he picked up the briefcase.
‘All right, Mrs. Marsh, you win. My fee stands at the usual rate, all right?’
‘Oh, thank you, thank you,’ she gushed, quickly exiting the office before he could change his mind.
Morgan sat at his desk and shook his head with a wry smile.
‘Women!’
Audrey’s hair was still done up in rollers, but apart from that she was dressed up to the nines. Tea was laid out on the small coffee table, the cushions neatly arranged, a nice bowl of flowers on the sideboard. Ray stood uneasily in front of the mantelpiece, hands stuffed in his pockets, afraid to sit down in case he got a yell from Audrey and had to fluff up the cushions again. For the last half hour she hadn’t been able to sit still, flitting in and out of the lounge like a mad thing while she got herself ready.
The doorbell rang, and Audrey started pulling the Carmen rollers from her hair, shouting, ‘That’s her. Ray, Ray...’
‘Let her in, shall I?’ he asked.
Audrey bustled back into the lounge. ‘You just sit down there. No, not on the cushions, over there, on the edge of the sofa.’ She ran her fingers through her hair and checked herself in the mirror one last time. ‘Right, I’ll let her in, then.’
‘Good idea,’ Ray said calmly. ‘But bear in mind she might think she’s come to the wrong house.’
Audrey started to the door, then turned back to him with a schoolmistress-like tone. ‘Now, you let me do the talking, Ray.’
He smiled and nodded.
As Audrey went to the door, Ray patted his pockets for cigarettes. He was starting to get a bit edgy now. Damn. He opened a cigarette box on the mantelpiece and tinny music started tinkling, while a little ballerina turned round and round, but the box was empty. He could hear Audrey in the hall, shouting and whooping with joy, and another, lower voice laughing along with her. Shirley entered the room first, carrying a vanity case, and clutching several packages under her arm. She saw Ray and stopped in her tracks.