Widows

When Harry’s hand came down, Jimmy started the stopwatch and the men moved like lightning. Joe leapt out of the van and stood with his shotgun held toward the imaginary traffic behind. Terry slammed the explosives onto the side of the fake security wagon and Harry climbed onto its bonnet, pointing his shotgun at the imaginary security driver and passenger. ‘Get out of the wagon!’ he screamed, his deep voice echoing round the quarry. The intention was that the two guards in the cab would get out and be forced to lie on the ground in front of Joe.

BOOM! A large Harry-sized hole was blown in the side of the fake security wagon; Harry crawled in, followed by Terry. Harry quickly loaded Terry’s haversack with accurately weighted bags before shouting ‘Go!’ Terry and Joe then switched places, Terry pointing the shotgun at the non-existent traffic and the imaginary guards while Joe’s haversack was filled. Joe then filled Harry’s haversack and all three men raced toward the getaway car parked exactly fifty yards away.

It was a slick operation and, as Jimmy watched them run, he couldn’t wait to learn more about the job.

Dolly sipped tea from the lid of her thermos, listening to Linda and Shirley argue over the last chicken sandwich. Shirley felt that the two slices of pork pie Linda ate meant that the sandwich should really be hers; but Linda argued that you can’t legitimately compare a pie to a sandwich. While they bickered, Bella grabbed it and ate it herself.

‘Shut your gobs,’ she said.

Dolly, who’d eaten nothing, got to her feet. She handed a ‘shotgun’ stick to Shirley and kept the other for herself. ‘Let’s do just the run; see how long it takes.’ Bella jumped up and ran off to the far end of the beach with her stopwatch. When Linda stood up, she was clearly in some pain from where she’d dropped the chainsaw on her foot.

‘I don’t think I can do it, Dolly,’ she whimpered.

‘Is that what you’re gonna say if something happens on the day?’ Dolly asked, ‘Or are you gonna run for your life anyway?’

Linda shut up and the three of them stood, rucksacks on their backs, ready for the cue from Bella.

From fifty yards away, Bella thought they looked like a right old mishmash of mums doing the parents’ egg and spoon race at sports day. Dolly in her bright-pink tracksuit, Shirley in her catwalk-style jumpsuit and Linda looking like a tramp. She shook her head. ‘Ready!’ she shouted. Dolly gave her the thumbs up. ‘One, two, three. GO!’

No matter how many times they did the run, Dolly always lagged behind. She didn’t have the energy or the fitness level of the other three, and began puffing and gasping for breath after the first twenty yards. Every time they made it to the finishing line, she paused, clasped her side, heaved for breath and asked what time they had done. It was obvious she’d never be able to complete the run in the required time. But Dolly wouldn’t give up: time and time again she turned and walked back up the beach to the old Morris. After the fourth time, Linda felt that she had to say something.

‘This is ridiculous, Dolly. I can do it, Shirley can do it — so what’s the point in all three of us running up and down time and time again just because you can’t do it. You’re the only one holding us up. Take a rest and then try it again on your own.’

Dolly walked away, hands on hips, head down. She was pushing herself to breaking point, but she refused to give in. Reaching the rusty Morris, Dolly held up her hand, indicating to Bella that she was ready to go again.

Bella crossed her fingers. ‘Come on, Dolly. You can do it,’ she whispered. Dolly dropped her hand and started to run.