She could tell he was eager to go, so she got up and walked with him to the front door. She opened it as he got into his raincoat. He looked beat, worn out.
He fished in his pocket and took out his wallet. ‘Why don’t you buy yourself something new?’
Maureen sighed and took the money. She had a wardrobe full of dresses she never wore, but she’d go out and buy something anyway. She’d try her best to have a nice evening, too, but the truth was she couldn’t take this much longer. It would be so much easier if they had kids; at least she would have something to occupy her time. She didn’t want a job; she’d only ever worked at the local estate agent’s as a receptionist and part-time secretary and she’d hated it. She was happy being a housewife; that was what she’d always wanted — a husband and kids. But how in the hell was she ever going to have any when she hardly saw him?
Fuller hovered a moment on the doorstep. She seemed to be deep in her own thoughts. Then she came back to herself.
‘Is it still this Harry Rawlins business?’
Fuller nodded. He didn’t want to go into details.
‘But we’re definitely going out, yes? I don’t want to get all dressed up and then you not turn up until the restaurant’s closed.’
‘Don’t you worry.’ He kissed her and walked to his car. He turned before getting in, but the door had already closed behind her.
Shirley tried another turn under the watchful gaze of Mrs. Hyde White. Along with ten other girls, she had enrolled in a two-week crash course at the Lucy Clayton model school. They were mostly debby types, who all seemed to know each other and giggled a lot. Mrs. Hyde White, an ex-model herself, paid them scant attention. But she seemed to think Shirley had potential, even if that meant directing more criticism at her.
Shirley crossed the large gym floor, trying to walk in time with the music. She didn’t mind being picked on and paid close attention to everything she was told. If she didn’t make a good turn, she went back and tried again — and kept going until she got it right.
Mrs. Hyde White took Shirley aside and made her walk alongside her, showing the spin turn on the base of the heel, making it look easy and natural. Shirley tried again, up and down, up and down.
‘Better. Now keep your head up! Stop looking at your feet!’
Mrs. Hyde White clapped her hands. ‘Now pay attention, girls.’ She began tossing out long drapes, and demonstrated how to tie them round their waists to act as trains. Then she switched tapes and heavy rock music started thundering through the studio. The girls huddled together and watched as Mrs. Hyde White moved across the room at an angle, tossing the train, spinning on her heels with head held high and a haughty expression.
A few giggles accompanied the hopeless attempts of the girls as they tripped over their trains, but Shirley quickly got the hang of it, beginning to swing her body from side to side, the way the catwalk girls did.
After dismissing the class, Mrs. Hyde White took Shirley to one side.
‘I’m quite pleased with the way you’re coming along. Have you thought very much about the future, what you want to do?’
‘Well, I already have an agent — Marion Gordon,’ Shirley replied rather self-consciously. ‘I really want to be a professional model.’
Mrs. Hyde White raised her carefully penciled eyebrows. ‘I see. Yes, well, Marion Gordon is certainly very... She has a very good eye for talent. I’m sure you’ll do very well.’
Shirley beamed. ‘Oh, thank you.’ She skipped back to the changing rooms.
Mrs. Hyde White watched her go. Marion Gordon. Well, you couldn’t deny she was very successful... but one did hear such dreadful stories.
Bella was lolling in the bath. She loved Shirley’s fancy bath oil. It almost smelt good enough to drink. She ducked her head under the soapy water, then came up to the surface, wondering if the oil was good for her hair. She heard the front door open and close below. If that was Dolly, she didn’t want her to catch her getting too relaxed. She stepped out of the bath and grabbed Shirley’s towel dressing gown.
Downstairs, Dolly was taking out her shopping and putting it on the kitchen table — rat poison, a torch and a loaf of bread. Bella popped her head round the door, her hair still dripping from the bath.
‘You know, as soon as Shirley gets back from her class, she’s off out again. She said as we hadn’t told her... It’s some fancy do; she’s got out all her frocks.’
Dolly shook her head, banging down a tin of corned beef.
‘Guess we’ll have to do it on our own, then.’
As he sat outside Shirley Miller’s house, his stomach rumbling, Vic Morgan could have kicked himself for not eating breakfast when he had the chance. The way things were going, he could be here for a while. He knew now that Shirley Miller was the widow of Terry Miller, killed in the underpass raid. And he had seen Dolly use her own key to enter the house — meaning the women were close friends. He sat up as a car pulled up outside the gate and an attractive blonde in a tracksuit got out.
Well, well, he thought. This had to be the one and only Shirley Miller.
Reynolds was beaming from ear to ear, his thin, freckled face aglow as he placed the ormolu clock on Fuller’s desk. He then laid a report in front of him.
‘Nicked three months ago from a house in Guildford, and valued at over £2000.’
Fuller looked at the clock and smiled. ‘You little beauty! Now we can pull Sonny in and charge him with handling stolen property. We’ll see if that loosens his tongue a little bit.’
Harry slipped into Arnie Fisher’s club and up the stairs to the offices. If any of the waiters preparing for the party saw him, they knew not to ask questions. They all had instructions that tonight was a private party, invited guests only, with ‘private’ being the key word. As the trays of titbits were brought out and the bottles and glasses set up, it looked as though quite a crowd was expected.
Arnie had been buzzing round like a bluebottle, making sure the waiters knew what they were doing, and checking the wine.
‘The good stuff when they arrive,’ he reminded them. ‘Then switch to the plunk. After a couple of glasses they won’t know the difference.’ With everything ready for the onslaught, he made his way up to his office.
Harry looked up from the desk and then back to studying a notebook. He didn’t seem pleased to see him. Arnie hovered for a moment.
‘All set, Harry. I’m going to go and get changed.’
‘You do that, Arnie,’ Harry said, still concentrating on the notebook.
Arnie waited for a ‘thank you’ or even just a ‘see you later’ but nothing more was forthcoming.
‘Bastard,’ he murmured as he turned to go.
Dolly and Bella had dressed up warm for the freezing lock-up. Dolly also had a flask, sandwiches, a torch and the rat poison. She wasn’t bothered about the rats herself, but Bella clearly was, and they couldn’t risk her screaming out. They were planning on staying all night if they had to, watching to see who came and went. Then — if the coast was clear — they would break into Harry’s to find more details of the raid. To tip off the police they needed to know where and when. All they knew at the moment was how. Dolly took a deep breath. This time nothing must go wrong.
Shirley was still soaking in the bath when Dolly tapped on the door and went in. Shirley had her hair in rollers, lying back, eyes closed.
‘We’ll just have a cup of coffee, then go. You want one?’
Shirley pulled herself up and leaned on the side of the tub.
‘I feel bad not going with you and Bella. You sure it’s OK? It’s just that I promised him, and it’s quite a big party — something to do with his work. I’ll be meeting his boss.’