She's Out by Lynda La Plante

wallpaper to the cracked ceilings and crumbling woodwork. The banister rail was fine, thick mahogany, but
many of the pegs were missing and the carpets worn and dangerous on the old wide stairs. The smell of mould, damp and mildew made her nostrils flare but she kept on moving from room to room until
she entered the old kitchen, easing back the bolts from the back door to walk outside into the stable yard.
    She had inspected the pool, the woods and the run-down orchard, the vegetable garden that was a wild, overgrown mess of brambles and throttling weeds. She had muddied her
shoes, her legs were scratched from the brambles, the hem of her coat sodden, before she eventually returned to the kitchen. No one was up so she put on the kettle, working out how to use the big
lidded Aga, fetching a mug and making a cup of tea, her mind working overtime.
    The house was a dog, she knew that – any fool could feel it – but she couldn’t help liking it. Was she really prepared to take it on? She knew she’d given Ester a cheque
but that could always be stopped. Dolly sat with her hands cupping the chipped mug. The place could certainly accommodate at least ten, fifteen kids with ease; there were enough rooms and she
hadn’t even been down to the basement. She went over all the old deeds and survey reports, all a few years out of date. She started to calculate on the back of an envelope just how much money
it would take to get a place this size back into order. All her cash would go with the one cheque to Ester so it would mean she was dependent on the sale of the diamonds. If they had been valued at
two million all those years ago, she reckoned they’d be worth maybe three and a half to four now. If she fenced them, she’d probably clear maybe one and a half million cash. The house
would need a hell of a lot of money spent on it but just how much she would have to check into. From the plumbing to the decoration, she began to list all the blatantly obvious requirements. The
project was much bigger than she had dreamed of but if it was fate, then maybe it was meant for her to take on such a giant enterprise. She could use ex-prisoners to help her, perhaps even the
women from last night.
    Dolly spent over an hour making notes and working out costs and then went down to the basement. There were saunas, steam cabinets, an old gym and a large laundry room. None of the machines
appeared to be in working order and the stench of damp was even worse down there. She looked over the old boilers and knew they’d all have to be replaced. She began to doubt seriously that
she would take on the project because the more she calculated, the more money she knew she would have to raise.
    By the time she returned to the kitchen, Gloria was up and Ester and Julia were washing dishes in the big stone sink. Angela was clearing the debris in the dining room and passed Dolly carrying
a tray filled with dirty glasses. ‘Good morning, you’re up bright and early, Mrs Rawlins.’
    Dolly gave a brittle smile. ‘Yes. Is everyone else up yet?’
    ‘No, not yet. Do you want breakfast?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Eggs and bacon coming up.’
    Dolly opened the front door to look down the big wide drive.
    ‘Good morning, Dolly.’ Connie beamed, wrapping a silk kimono round herself.
    Dolly turned round as Kathleen appeared. ‘My God, I’ve got a hell of a headache. How about you, Dolly?’
    The relaxed atmosphere of the women coming and going made Dolly feel good – or better. ‘Get some coffee down you,’ she said to Kathleen, and then walked behind the old
reception desk to look for a telephone directory. The shelves were dusty and old circulars had been stuffed beneath the desk so she rummaged around.
    Ester appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Hi, good morning. You looking for something?’
    ‘Directories.’
    Ester wandered to the desk. ‘Be out of date, get the operator. Who are you calling?’
    Dolly sighed. Well, I should have a word with the