Widows

Bella was the first to arrive at Birling Gap. The beach was deserted. She heaved the bike back on its stand and walked to the edge of the cove. The tide was out. She smiled; Dolly would have factored in the tide patterns. Dolly thought of everything. Bella made her way down the small wooden-stepped path onto the main beach. A couple of old boats lay rotting on their side, and, about twenty yards up ahead, was an old rusting Morris Minor with no wheels, the seats torn and covered in seaweed. Again, Bella smiled, this time at the thought of some stupid tourists parking on the beach for a lovely picnic before being stranded by the incoming tide. They would have been forced to go up the way she had just come down. The kids round here could strip a car in thirty minutes, she thought.

As she walked up and down the beach, inhaling the fresh air, Bella sized up their training ground. She was glad Linda wasn’t there yet; it gave her time to focus and prepare the area without being interrupted by Linda going on about her shagathon or about Tony Fisher or about how much of a nag Dolly was. She began collecting driftwood to mark out the run they would have to make with the money on their backs. Bella wanted to do this properly, without interruption.

By the time Linda arrived, the run from the security wagon to the getaway car was all marked out in the sand. Bella looked up to the gravel track as the Capri braked sharply, pebbles flying up as it skidded to a stop. She waved to Linda, who began unloading sacks and blankets from the boot to carry down the steps.

When she reached the beach, Linda threw the armful of goods onto the sand. She was already moaning. ‘What’s she picked this place for, I don’t know. She must be barmy! How’re we gonna rehearse the raid here?’

The fresh wind had put some color into Linda’s ashen face and was blowing her dark curly hair all over the place. Linda had an odd face with a hawk nose, high cheekbones and dark, lively eyes. She could veer from downright plain-looking to an angular beauty. With her big gob shut, thought Bella, she is quite beautiful.

‘I spoke to Dolly.’ Bella said, ignoring Linda’s complaints. ‘She’s up to speed about Tony Fisher and Boxer Davis. I said we need to talk about it first thing today, before we get stuck into rehearsals.’

‘You heard from Shirl?’ Linda asked. She seemed genuinely concerned.

‘Dolly picked up on that while I finished my shift at the club. Shirley will be fine.’ Bella’s glib reassurance was exactly what Linda needed. She’d been unable to focus on Carlos at all last night for worrying and they’d only shagged once in the end; not their usual standards at all. Carlos had been very understanding and had settled for cuddling instead. It was a shame about poor old Boxer being beaten up, but at least they needn’t worry about him anymore. But Tony Fisher — he was still a big worry.

‘’Ere, I had a brain wave!’ Suddenly cheerful, Linda ran to the pile of stuff she’d brought down from the boot of her car. She came back to Bella with the rucksacks, three pillowcases, two plastic buckets shaped like a castle and two spades. ‘I thought — why lug bricks from the lock-up when we got what we need right here?’ Linda filled a pillowcase with sand and put that into the rucksack. ‘Not just a pretty face, am I, eh, Bel?’ Linda picked up a blanket and laid it out at one end of the track Bella had marked out in the sand with driftwood. She scooped sand onto each corner of the blanket to hold it in place.

‘What’s that meant to be?’ Bella asked.

‘That’s the security van! And later, it’ll be for our picnic. Two birds with one stone, see.’ Bella loved this childlike side to Linda; she was a real laugh when she wanted to be.

Up on the gravel track, Shirley’s car pulled to a slow and steady stop. No gravel was flung up from the tires the way Shirley drove. Bella and Linda watched as she carefully picked her way down the uneven wooden steps to the beach. She was carrying her stuff in high street shopping bags and wearing one of the very feminine jumpsuits that Dolly had said were no good. She looked like she’d just come from Kensington High Street.

‘I must ask her where she got that jumpsuit from. I reckon it’d suit me,’ Linda mocked.

Bella looked Linda up and down. She was wearing ripped jeans, dirty plimsolls and a huge jumper that must once have belonged to Joe. ‘Well — you look like a scarecrow in that gear,’ Bella commented with a smile.

‘I’m dressed for the occasion, I’ll have you know,’ said Linda. ‘This is my “rehearsing for a hare-brained robbery” outfit.’

As Shirley got to the bottom of the steps and tiptoed through the sand so as not to get any in her still-pristine plimsolls, their smiles faded. The split to Shirley’s lower lip and the surrounding bruise was visible from ten feet away. They raced forward.

‘Tony bleedin’ Fisher,’ Shirley said.

Bella and Linda took the shopping bags and dumped them on the bonnet of the old Morris Minor.