Linda drove directly to the underground parking area used by Shirley’s mum and the other market traders to stash their vehicles, cart stalls, tables and produce. The two-mile drive was thrilling: Linda’s eyes darted from the road to the wing mirror to the rearview mirror and back again. She was hyper-alert, taking in every detail; she even noted a couple of beat cops wandering aimlessly around their patch. She smiled; they were totally oblivious.
When she reached the market, Linda edged her way slowly through the line of trucks and vans delivering fruit and veg to the traders, on the lookout for Shirley. She spotted her, standing outside the car park, waving furiously. Shirley had managed to get two copies made of her mum’s key and had cleared a pile of old fruit and veg boxes out of the way to make a space in the far corner to park the van. Linda reversed into the space and Shirley banged on the rear doors when she needed to stop.
Linda was feeling pleased with herself as she showed Shirley round the van. ‘It’s perfect, nice and big too, look at the size of the rear bumper... it will stand up to a tank hittin’ it.’ Shirley kept schtum as she slid open the driver’s door, allowing Linda to enjoy her moment. ‘There’s only one seat, so Dolly can move fast from here to the rear doors... when she’s learned to get out of the harness, that is!’
‘You’ve nicked a good ’un, I reckon,’ Shirley replied, encouraging Linda. Then she noticed the damage to the ignition. ‘What the hell’s happened there?’
‘Well, the driver was hardly going to hand me the keys, was he?’ Linda said. ‘I bought a replacement barrel before I nicked the van — I knew it was likely to get damaged. It’s a thirty-minute job to replace it.’ Replacing the barrel was actually something Linda had never done before, but she had seen Joe do it. It looked easy enough and now the van was safely tucked away, she had time to work it out.
As the two of them heaved a tarpaulin over the vehicle to hide the logo on the sides, Linda asked Shirley if she’d brought the false plates.
‘Course I ’ave. And some spray paint to go over the logos, just like you asked.’ Shirley handed Linda a key. ‘That’s for the padlock on the gate. Make sure it’s all secure when you leave and leave at least ten minutes after me.’
‘Yes, Dolly.’ Linda mocked and they laughed, releasing some of the tension. ‘Go on, then,’ Linda said. She released the bonnet and took a look at the engine. ‘Sod off and leave me to work.’
Instead of leaving, Shirley stood close to Linda’s shoulder and peered at the engine. ‘Does she run OK?’ she asked anxiously.
‘So so,’ Linda replied, humoring Shirley. ‘But I won’t know until I done a bit of work on it, will I? So, if you’d let me get on...’
‘Sounded like it was on its last legs to me — you sure it’ll be all right?’
‘I know a lot more about engines than you do, Shirl, and when I’ve finished givin’ it the once over, it’ll run like a Maserati.’
Shirley was fed up with how quickly Linda would go from being nice to being a bitch. ‘You’re welcome!’ Shirley shouted as she stomped off. ‘For getting the key cut, and for bringing the paint, and for waiting in the freezing bloody cold all morning for—’
‘THANK YOU!’ Linda yelled with a huge grin on her face. Shirley shut up mid-sentence, but still left in a huff. Linda returned to the van’s engine and her grin slowly faded. Fuck me. It’s a bit different from a normal van...
Shirley was still tetchy when she arrived at her mother’s flat later that afternoon. She let herself in and shouted to Audrey, who yelled that she was in her bedroom and would be out in a minute. At first Shirley thought she’d walked into the wrong flat. It was so neat and tidy — not one dirty mug or dish in sight. Suddenly Audrey swirled into the kitchen, dressed up to the nines, wearing heavy make-up, hair lacquered stiff as a board. Shirley almost keeled over from the strong smell of Revlon’s ‘Intimate.’
‘What ya think of me dress? It come off the back of a lorry — only a fiver!’ Audrey paraded in front of Shirley in a sequined Crimplene evening dress.
Shirley tried to hide her horror at the color, the shape and, well, everything really. Audrey was so busy swirling, she missed the way her daughter’s eyes almost popped out of her head and, by the time she’d stopped swirling, Shirley had composed herself again.
‘It’s lovely,’ Shirley lied. ‘Where’s Greg? I need him to fix me car, the knob on the gearstick keeps fallin’ off.’
‘Don’t talk to me about him — not after what I caught him doin’...’
‘Not shaggin’ again, Mum?’
Audrey opened the kitchen utility cupboard and out fell the ironing board, a pile of dirty washing, shoes and a bin bag full of rubbish. Far from tidying, Audrey had, in fact, just hidden all the junk. Eventually, she found what she was looking for.
‘Your bruvver was sniffin’ glue with this thing on his head,’ she said, putting an old gas mask over her face. ‘I found him stoned out of his head — didn’t know what to do with him!’
Shirley stared at her mother. Audrey’s voice through the mask sounded low and deep, with a strange muffled echo. She grabbed at the mask and pulled it off Audrey’s head. ‘That’s awful,’ Shirley said, not remotely interested. ‘Truly awful.’ She kept a tight hold of the mask. ‘I’ll get rid of this for you, Mum. Don’t worry, Greg won’t find it.’
‘Good!’ Audrey said. She caught a glimpse of herself in the kitchen window. The gas mask had made a right mess of her hair. ‘Oh, bleedin’ ’ell! I’ll have to do me hair again! You know that bloke from the market?’ she asked Shirley with a huge smile. ‘Well, his brother-in-law’s mate spotted me the other day and said he fancied a go. He sounds lovely, Shirl. And he’s got money.’
‘He doesn’t sound lovely at all, Mum. And money’s not everything. I look after you, don’t I?’
‘You ain’t gonna stick around forever. I have to fend for meself. He’s taking me to the Golden Nugget.’
‘Do you even know him?’
‘It’s a blind date. Well — it’s a half-blind date. He’s seen me but I ain’t seen him. The man from the market says he’s a looker though. I got to fix me hair, Shirl’. What you up to tonight?’
Shirley was still examining the gas mask. It would be perfect for Dolly. She couldn’t wait to get it to her. ‘I’m sorting meself out for that holiday I told you about, Mum.’
‘Oh, I remember. Couple of weeks in Spain’ll do you good. Put a bit of color back in your cheeks. We can all do with color in our cheeks, Shirley, my girl. Grab every opportunity that comes your way.’
Audrey was referring to hooking up with some rich bloke in Spain; Shirley was thinking about the robbery. That was the only opportunity she’d be grabbing in the next few weeks. She kissed her mum on the cheek. ‘Good luck with your mystery man, Mum.’ And with that, she left.
Linda had her head buried in the engine of the laundry van when she felt something race by, brushing her leg. She jumped, banging her head on the open bonnet, and there was Wolf, looking up at her with his stupid tail wagging.
‘It ain’t ready yet,’ Linda said as Dolly came into view round the side of the van.
‘Looks all right, Linda,’ Dolly commented. ‘Well done.’ Even this compliment annoyed Linda. Dolly sounded slightly surprised, as if she assumed Linda would have nicked a dud.
‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Dolly said, removing her coat and placing it on a crate of apples in the corner of the car park.
Before Linda could say anything, Dolly had picked up the spray paint, checked no one was watching and pulled the tarp back to reveal the logos in the side of the van. ‘We’ll meet the others at the lock-up in two hours,’ Dolly continued. ‘You finish what you’re doing. I’ll spray and change the plates.’