“Any chance of you cleaning the bath after yourself?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.

  “Sure,” Linda replied distractedly. She pointed at the TV. “What a load of old rubbish. Gawd almighty. I mean, I know it’s a kids’ program, but it’s completely ridiculous.”

  Shirley looked round the room. There were dirty coffee cups on every surface. “And maybe when you’ve finished with the bath, you could do some washing up? If you get a minute, of course, Linda. Linda? Linda, are you listening?”

  Linda seemed totally absorbed in the TV program.

  Shirley rolled her eyes. “Right, I’m going to see me mum.”

  “Oh, in that case,” Linda said, without taking her eyes off the screen, “would you pick up some coffee, tea, butter, eggs, milk . . .”

  Shirley put her hands on her hips. “Oh, fine, I said I was goin’ to me mum’s, but I’ll take the trolley with me!”

  “Great. Oh, and don’t forget some soap, and cornflakes . . .” Linda was still adding items to the shopping list as Shirley walked out of the room.

  After a while she got up to change the channel. She saw the video machine under the TV had a film in it. She pressed the button and went back to sit on the sofa. It couldn’t be any worse than what’s on TV, she thought. She just hoped it was something for adults.

  A minute later, her jaw hanging open, she found that it was.

  Ray Bates had spent most of the morning at Mothercare. He felt a strange thrill, walking up and down the shop, looking at all the gear he could buy. He’d come back with a pair of tiny blue bootees and he had them in his hand, smiling stupidly at them, when Micky Tesco arrived.

  He looked at Ray and the boots. “New line, is it?”

  Ray beamed and told him the whole story. “I’m gonna be a father, at my age! Isn’t that fantastic?”

  Tesco couldn’t quite take it in. “You mean Audrey?”

  “Yeah,” said Ray. A worried look suddenly came over his face. “Tell you what, though, I hope to God business picks up!”

  Tesco grinned and sat down. “You’ve obviously been keepin’ your end up!”

  One of the bootees was flung at his head. Micky held it in his hand and plucked at the wool.

  “Shirley working, is she? Doin’ any modeling?”

  “Why? Gonna offer her a job, are you?”

  Micky tossed the little shoe back. “Why not? Friend of mine runs a model agency. I think I could do something for her.”

  Ray shook his head with a grin. “I bet you could, Micky, I bet you could!”

  The video was still playing when Linda ushered Dolly into the room. She picked up the remote control and began to play the film back to catch up on the bits she’d missed. Dolly put her bag down and began dusting off her coat. She’d been at the damned drill hall again, and it was still filthy, absolutely disgusting—you’d think with kids round they’d clean the place. Then she looked at the screen and her mouth dropped open.

  “What in God’s name is this?”

  Linda grinned. “I found it in the machine. Tell you what, that Shirley’s a bit of a dark horse. Let me rewind a bit. There’s a bloke—no word of a lie—who’s got one down to just below his knees.”

  Dolly was disgusted. “Turn it off!”

  The front door slammed and Dolly called out sharply, “Who’s that?”

  Bella pushed open the door. “Only me.” She rubbed her hands together. “How does this sound—cops were down in the car park in under a minute. Rang them, said I’d seen a flasher, and . . . Bloody hell, what’s this?”

  “One of Shirley’s videos,” Dolly told her.

  Bella roared with laughter. “Shirley’s?” She got closer to the screen. “Oh my gawd—how did those two get into that position?”

  “I think there’s three of them,” Dolly said, shaking her head.

  “Oh yeah?” Bella screeched. “You seen it before, have you, Doll?”

  Furious, Dolly went and ripped the plug from the wall. “If that’s all you two have got to think about then I’m sorry for you!” She looked at Linda. “You get a case for the money?”

  “Me and Bella talked it over,” Linda said, “and thought a briefcase was a bit too obvious. So we decided to use one of Shirley’s old shopping bags.”

  Dolly thought for a moment. “Fair enough.”

  “What time are we going to call Harry?” Linda asked. She had to repeat the question three times as Dolly was just sat, staring into space.

  Eventually, sounding distant, as if she was talking to herself, Dolly answered. “Not until way after midnight. The later the better. We still have to work out exactly how long it’s going to take us all to get there. Shirley will need at least three hours, knowing her driving.”

  She opened the holdall to look at the money she’d taken from the drill hall, then leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes, muttering, “This is crazy, it’s crazy!”

  “You think Harry’s gonna try something?” Bella asked.

  Dolly opened her eyes and tipped all the money out of the bag. Her voice was chillingly cold. “I don’t think, I know it. Now, where’s Shirley?”

  Linda picked up some of the money and began counting it. “Shopping.”

  “What time did she say she’d be back?”

  Linda shrugged. “Dunno. She said something about seeing her mother.”

  Bella picked up some of the money. “It’ll work, Dolly. Sixty thousand pounds is a lot of cash!”

  This was the moment when Dolly could have told them just how much she’d cleaned out Harry for. But she didn’t. She just sat there and watched the two girls carefully counting out Harry’s pay-off.

  Shirley couldn’t believe her ears.

  “Yeah, two months!” Audrey repeated, a bit sheepishly.

  Shirley almost had to hold on to the kitchen table to stop herself falling down. “But you can’t be! You’re too old!”

  “Oh, thanks a lot!”

  Shirley picked up her shopping bag and put it on the table. “You’re not gonna have it, are you?”

  Audrey laughed. “Of course I’m gonna have it.” Then she looked at Shirley and added, “Ray’s over the moon about it.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet,” Shirley shot back. “Gonna have a white wedding, are you, Mum? He gonna marry you, is he? Oh, come on, don’t be stupid. You can’t have it!”

  Audrey put the teapot on the table and looked at her daughter.

  “I mean, what’s everybody gonna say, Mum?” Shirley continued. “You can’t have a baby at your age. It’ll be a mongol!”

  Audrey gasped. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Don’t say things like that, you hear me?”

  Shirley took a cake out of its box and put it on a plate. “Does Greg know? How’s he gonna take it?”

  Audrey got some plates from a cupboard. “I really don’t care what he thinks. It’s my baby—mine and Ray’s.”

  Shirley went to the cutlery drawer and took out a cake knife. “Well, he’s gonna go off the deep end, I reckon.” She shook her head. “I dunno—never mind about having another kid, you can’t even handle the ones you’ve got!”

  Audrey took the knife from Shirley. “Well, if Ursula Andress can do it . . .”

  Shirley looked puzzled.

  “The blonde movie actress—you know!”

  Shirley rolled her eyes and Audrey started cutting the cake. Shirley put a hand on her arm. “You know you needn’t bother coming to me for a handout when Ray hops it—because that’s what he’s going to do. That’s what Greg’s so-called father did, what mine did. I haven’t seen my big brother Mike for years. And when he does come home you get into a right old state because of our dad leaving to live on the military base in Germany. It’s no wonder Mike wanted to go there and be with him instead of living here in this shithole. Every man you’ve ever had has only hung round long enough to get what they wanted and then pissed off!”

  Audrey’s hand shot out and slapped Shirley hard across the face.

  There was a strange moment as the two women looked at each other. In all the years and all the troubles they’d been through, Audrey had never slapped her daughter before.

  Shirley picked up her bag. “You’re making a big mistake, Mum. You know you could still—”

  “Get out!” Audrey yelled. She sat at the kitchen table, looking at the cake. She picked up a piece, then let it drop. Gently she rubbed her hand over her tummy.

  “You just don’t understand, Shirley,” she said to herself. “It’s gonna be different this time.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “Yeah, this time everything’s gonna be all right.”

  A wave of guilt washed over her as Shirley opened her car door. For a moment she thought of going back and apologizing, but something stopped her.

  She was just about to get into the car when she felt a slap on her behind. She turned round in a fury, expecting to see Greg, but it was Micky Tesco, standing there with a big grin on his face.

  “I can’t stand people who do that!” she snapped.

  He held the door open for her, still smiling. Shirley could smell his cologne.

  “You been to see our mum-to-be, eh, darlin’?” he asked with a smirk.

  Shirley could have hit him. She got into the car, but he still held onto the door.

  “You been doing any modeling lately?”

  She opened her handbag and searched for her keys, wishing he’d shut up and go away.

  He stuck his head in the car. “Friend of mine runs a modeling agency. I was talking about you.”

  Shirley just laughed. “Oh, yeah?” She couldn’t find her car keys.

  “Straight up! She wants to meet you. Marion Gordon.”

  For a moment she stopped searching for her keys. Marion Gordon . . . she knew that name.

  Micky straightened up. “You must have heard of her. I can fix you up an interview, no problem. You’re just the kind of girl she likes—you know, fresh, natural-looking.” He paused, as if he was thinking. “What’re you doing right now?”

  She looked at him, and he knew he’d got her, hook, line and sinker.

  Shirley bit her lip. “What, meet her now? I’d have to change.”

  He reached over and took the keys out of Shirley’s hand, then helped her out of the car.

  “Don’t forget your handbag, sweetheart.” He reached into the car and handed her the bag.

  Shirley knew he was manipulating her, but what rather disturbed her was that she didn’t seem to mind. She watched him shut the car door and lock it, before handing her back the keys. Then he gripped her elbow and led her across the street to his E-type Jaguar. He opened the passenger door, helped her in, shut the door—the perfect gentleman—and he was whistling when he got in next to her.

  “Well! Let’s go and see if I can get you a modeling job, yeah?”

  “What’s in it for you?” Shirley asked, even though she knew the answer.

  He smiled. “Well, one good turn deserves another, doesn’t it? So maybe you’ll have dinner with me one night. What do you say?”

  Shirley didn’t reply, but he seemed to take that as a “yes.” He revved the engine and they sped off.

  “Put your safety belt on, sweetheart. Don’t wanna lose you.”

  Shirley did as he asked, but noticed he wasn’t wearing his. She glanced sidelong at him as he drove, and noticed a few other things. She liked the way he dressed: clean and sharp. And that cologne was rather nice. With his blond hair, piercing ice-blue eyes and perfect, even white teeth, she had to admit he was very striking. She settled back in her seat, liking the way he drove: fast, but always seeming to be in control.

  “Have you ever done any modeling?” she asked after a while.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, once. I did a knitting pattern for Marion. That’s how I know her.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I couldn’t stand all the woofters about.”

  “So what do you do now?”

  “I’m in property, sweetheart. Buying and selling.”

  Well, he must be doing all right, Shirley thought to herself. These cars aren’t cheap.

  Micky accelerated expertly through the gears.

  Got her, he told himself. I’ve got her . . .

  Dolly had been washing up in the kitchen, and now she turned her attention to the stove, which was covered in grease after one of Linda’s fry-ups. She’d been back and forth to the various rooms in the house collecting dirty cups and saucers, including a saucer full of cigarette ends. Just the smell of it made her glad she didn’t smoke anymore. She missed having something to do with her hands, but that was a small price to pay, especially now that she was watching her weight.

  Dolly was miles away when Linda came in, carrying a few more cups and saucers. She took them to the sink and picked up a dishcloth.

  “D’you want me to give you a hand, Dolly?”

  “If you like, love.”

  Dolly had noticed a change in Linda of late. She was still nervous and jumpy, but instead of running off at the mouth, she was usually quiet. Often when they were together, she’d look over to see Linda just staring into space.

  They washed and dried the dishes together for a minute in companionable silence, and then Dolly saw that Linda was crying, silent tears running down her face.

  “Has Bella been having a go at you again?”

  Linda nodded. Dolly usually kept her emotions to herself, and she didn’t give her affections lightly. But she felt drawn to Linda now, almost like a daughter. She carried on scrubbing at a plate.

  “Harry knocked the stuffing out of you, didn’t he, sweetheart?”

  Linda was quiet for a moment. “I was so scared, Dolly. I thought I was dying. It was the water, I’ve always been terrified of water, ever since I was a kid.”

  Seeing that Linda’s nose was running, Dolly held her hands up in their rubber gloves. “Here, there’s a tissue in my apron pocket.”

  Linda pulled out the tissue and blew her nose. She started to tell Dolly a story about when she was at the orphanage. It was strange, really: these women had spent so much time together—had been through so much together—and yet they didn’t really know each other, what each of them was feeling deep down. Dolly was moved by Linda’s description of life at the orphanage; how she remembered her mother taking her there when she was three, three and a half. She remembered her smell, but she could no longer visualize her face. What she did remember was those endless days waiting for the mother who never came. And then the final realization that she never would.

  “Were you ever happy there?” Dolly asked, as she carried on washing up. “Were they kind to you?”

  “Yeah, they were kind, but it could never make up for not having a mum. D’you know what I mean, Dolly?” Linda’s drying up slowed to a stop with a plate still in her hand. “The only real home I ever had was the one with Joe. I’m not saying it was perfect, but he was always there for me.”

  Dolly felt Linda’s hand on her arm.

  “When this is all over, when the money’s sorted and everything, will you . . . ?”

  Linda was finding it difficult to tell Dolly what she felt, what she wanted. But eventually it all burst out.

  “I’m no good on my own; I never was. I mean, I should be, ’cos that’s all I’ve ever been, really, on me own, apart from Joe. But Dolly, will you stay with me? I don’t know what to do with the money—I need help. I’ll even give you my share to look after!”

  To cover her own emotions, Dolly turned the hot water on. “Oh, come on, you don’t want an old woman like me hanging round you!”

  “You’re not old, Dolly! You’re so strong—you never seem to worry about anything.”

  Dolly laughed, shaking her head as she turned the water off. “Never worry? Oh, Linda, if only you knew!”

  Linda suddenly felt protective. She slipped her arm round Dolly. “I’m gonna take care of you, Dolly. After tonight, it’s all going to be over. An’ then, well, we’ll be together, you an’ me. Is that a deal?”

  Dolly hugged her. She realized that for all these months she’d had no real human contact—no hugs, no kisses—and she held on tight, not wanting to let go.

  “It’s a deal, darling,” she said eventually, and Linda beamed at her, bright as a button.

  “Be like ’aving a mum!”

  Bella’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “This a private conversation or can anyone join in?”

  Linda and Dolly broke apart, a little embarrassed. Dolly picked up the dishcloth and chucked it to Linda. “Come on, get cracking!”

  Bella hovered at the doorway for a moment, then said to Linda, “There’s some cups out by the telephone you could wash up.”

  Linda meekly walked out of the kitchen to pick up the dirty crockery. Dolly continued to wash, placing each bit of crockery carefully on the draining board. Without looking at Bella, she said, “You lay off her, Bella, you hear me?”

  Bella picked up the dishcloth and started drying. “Me? What have I done?”

  Dolly scrubbed at a cup furiously. “She swears she never told that feller of yours anything, so just let it drop!”

  Bella dropped one of the plates she’d been drying with a crash. “Oh, shit! That’s one of Shirley’s best.”

  Dolly took off the rubber gloves and started to pick up the pieces.

  Bella watched her. “I don’t mean half the things I say to Linda, I don’t, it’s just . . . I don’t know what gets into me, Dolly. But she’s changed—you don’t realize how much.”

  “Maybe she has changed, Bella. Maybe we all have in some way. Now go on, go and give her a hand.”

  Bella gave her a little smile and went out. Dolly opened the bin. It was full of broken cups and saucers.

  By the time Micky led her into Marion Gordon’s outer office, Shirley’s confidence was sky-high. He seemed to know the secretary very well, chatting easily with her, and then asked for the ladies’ room so that Shirley could go and freshen up. It was this thoughtfulness that Shirley liked, and all the time he kept encouraging her, telling her not to be nervous, that she was beautiful and there was no way Marion Gordon was going to turn her down. This was going to be her big break. He even took her to the ladies’ himself, opened the door and found the light switch for her.