Widows

It was 9:45 a.m. when Dolly at last drove into Totteridge Lane, which was deserted apart from a few parked cars. Her heart thumped as she turned into her driveway. As she got out of the car to unlock the garage doors, she whispered to Shirley to stay covered and keep quiet. Shirley, head fully covered by the blanket, had no idea where she was.

Once inside the privacy of her garage, Dolly opened the passenger door and flipped the seat down. ‘We’re in the garage at my house, darlin’. You can come out now.’

As Dolly helped Shirley out of the car, the sound of the police sirens made them both freeze. They were getting closer and closer.

‘Oh, my God, it’s the police, Dolly! They got us, Dolly... What we gonna do?’ Shirley exclaimed, her voice getting higher-pitched with every word.

Resisting the temptation to slap Shirley, Dolly instead put her hand gently over her mouth. ‘Ssssh,’ she said. Peering through the tiny window in the garage door, she saw a police car pulling up outside her house, blue light flashing. Two uniform and two plain-clothes officers got out and she recognized Detective Sergeant Fuller. Scurrying back over to Shirley, Dolly pushed her back into the rear seat of the car. ‘Cover yourself up again, don’t move or make a sound,’ Dolly whispered. Ripping off her wig and dark glasses, she threw them on top of Shirley, and then covered her up again with the blanket.

Dolly unlocked the adjoining door from the garage into her kitchen. She had to think fast. Pulling off her sweater, she threw it in the utility room laundry basket, then she rummaged around until she found the dirty dressing gown she’d dropped in there the day before. Wolf leapt out of his basket with excitement on seeing her, yapping round her feet and jumping up and down with joy. Dolly flicked on the electric coffee percolator. She’d last used it at 6 a.m. and knew it was still at least three quarters full. ‘Not now, darling,’ she said to Wolf. ‘Mummy’s got things on her mind.’ Next, she opened a cupboard, took out a packet of cereal, emptied some into a bowl, grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge and poured some over the cereal. She’d never moved so quickly in her life.

The doorbell started ringing. Someone was keeping their finger on the buzzer. Dolly bet her life it was that arrogant teenager, Fuller. Wolf ran toward the door, barking and jumping up at the shadows he could see though the stained glass.

Dolly opened a packet of Ryvita, took a deep breath, exhaled and then took a bite of the biscuit. The doorbell continued to ring. Trying to steady her breathing, Dolly shouted, ‘All right, all right, I’m comin’. I’m comin’!’ Out in the hallway, she snatched Wolf up into her arms before finally opening the door. As she thought, it was Fuller who was ringing. The other officers stood behind him waiting for their instructions.

Fuller walked right past Dolly into her hallway. He didn’t even bother to produce his warrant card. He almost pushed Dolly into the living room while one officer headed up the stairs, and the other two began a search of the downstairs rooms.

‘Get dressed or put a coat on, Mrs. Rawlins. You’re coming to the station,’ Fuller instructed.

‘You’ve got no right! No bleedin’ right. You don’t even have a warrant!’ Dolly shouted, poking her finger at him.

With a smug grin on his face, Fuller pulled a search warrant out of his coat pocket. ‘Want to bet?’ he said, and headed toward Dolly’s kitchen.

Once Fuller was in her kitchen, only one door stood between him and her garage. Between him and Shirley. But under her dressing gown, she was fully dressed. That would be impossible to explain.

‘What are you lot looking for this time?’ Dolly asked, stopping Fuller in the hall.

‘We’ll tell you down the nick, so go get dressed — unless you want to come down the station in a dressing gown?’

Dolly’s heart was thumping like crazy as she raced up the stairs to her bedroom. God forbid Fuller should search the Merc: he’d not only find Shirley but the rucksacks full of the stolen money. Keeping up a steady flow of abuse might get her dragged off more quickly, so she grabbed her coat and raced back downstairs just as Fuller laid his hand on the garage door handle.

‘What’s this all about?’ Dolly shouted. ‘I’m going to have your badge for this! Take me to the station right now. Let’s get it over with. Come on — if we’re going.’

Ignoring her, Fuller opened the garage door, leaned forward and looked inside. As he fumbled around on the wall for a light switch, Dolly shouted, ‘Right!’ and stormed off toward the front door.

Fuller whipped round. ‘Where you going?’

‘To walk my bleedin’ dog,’ Dolly shouted. ‘If you ain’t coming right now, I’m off.’

Fuller slammed the garage door shut and paced after Dolly. ‘You’re not going anywhere other than the station, Mrs. Rawlins.’

It was Fuller who now led the way toward the front door, with Dolly in tow, still nagging and badgering him.