Authors: Victoria Connelly
The Baileys were having breakfast in a cheap hotel in Victoria. Marty had already been out to buy a copy of
Vive!
and was sat reading it out over his cornflakes.
‘Well, I was right,’ he said, finishing Tom Mackenzie’s report. ‘She’s bowing out at seven o’clock tonight at The Monument.’
‘We’ll have to make sure we get there before her, then, won’t we?’ Magnus said.
Marty nodded. ‘That might be easier said than done. With this sort of publicity, think of the number of people who might show up.’
‘Shush! Listen,’ Old Bailey suddenly hushed, and the four of them listened to a radio that was blaring from the kitchen.
‘So it looks as if Molly’s finally decided to give us Londoners some loot,’ the voice was saying. ‘If you haven’t yet heard, Molly Bailey plans to be at The Monument at seven o’clock this evening. It promises to be a night to remember!’
Marty sighed. ‘That’s it, then. There’ll be no chance of stopping her.’
‘We can still go, though,’ Carolyn chipped in. She, for one, was not going to miss Molly’s big moment.
‘We can go and see exactly what she’s up to!’ Magnus said. ‘Stupid girl, what does she think she’s doing? She’s making nothing but a spectacle of herself.’
‘I’m not sure Granddad should come, though,’ Marty said. ‘It’s going to be very crowded.’
‘
What?
’ Old Bailey barked over his second round of toast. ‘Not come!’ he said, turning a dangerous shade of purple. ‘I’ve come all the way from bloody Penrith. I’m not going to miss this!’ he grumbled, winding his scarf around his scrawny neck.
‘Blimey, Molly. You must be gobsmacked!’ Jo said, as they left the hotel that morning. Molly hadn’t told Jo about her encounter with Tom and Flora at the British Museum. She knew Jo would just tell her off for running away and, right now, Molly had enough to be coping with.
‘I
am
gobsmacked!’ Molly said. ‘I’ve lost a brother, but gained a half-brother, a stepfather and an estranged mother.’
‘Blimey!’ Jo said again. ‘Not quite what you’d expected.’
Molly nodded. ‘I know.’
‘What was she like, then – your mother?’
‘She was…’ Molly began, but seemed lost for words, ‘… content.’
Jo’s face scrunched up in bemusement. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Everything about her life – the way she spoke, the way she walked,’ Molly tried to explain. ‘She just oozed contentment.
I’ve never ever seen that in anyone before.’
‘When are you going to see her again?’
‘I’m not sure. Soon. We said soon.’
‘So what now?’ Jo asked.
Molly nodded, as if pushing all thoughts of family to the back of her mind so as to focus on the here and now. ‘I’ve got to get ready for this evening.’
‘You know, you’ve still not told me what you’re up to.’
Molly smiled. ‘I’ve got a favour to ask you.’
‘What?’
‘Will you help me? I think I’m going to need an extra pair of hands tonight.’
Jo grinned and there was a naughty light in her eyes. ‘You bet I will!’ she said.
‘I suppose we should make the most of being in London,’ Marty said as they left the hotel. ‘It’s not often we’re down here,’ he added, taking Carolyn’s hand.
Carolyn almost leapt at his touch. It was the first romantic gesture in days. At once, she started to get excited. ‘How about Covent Garden?’ she suggested. ‘I’ve always wanted to go there.’
‘What about Dad and Granddad? We don’t want to do too much walking today.’
‘They don’t have to. We could go there on our own, couldn’t we?’ she suggested, hoping that this would be their chance to talk; that this would be her moment to break her news.
‘Caro! We can’t just leave them.’
‘Why not? They’re grown men. We don’t have to babysit them.’ Carolyn’s voice rose to match his. ‘And then,’ she
added, her voice softer and sweeter, ‘we can do exactly what we want.’
Marty turned back and watched his father and grandfather ambling along the pavement, moaning at the crowds.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said.
Carolyn beamed. ‘Great!’ she said, kissing him on the cheek. Maybe he wasn’t completely beyond redemption after all.
‘Caro!’ he complained. ‘Kissing in the middle of the street!’
She tutted at his response. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s go shopping.’
After arranging to meet Magnus and Old Bailey for tea, Carolyn and Marty left for Covent Garden. Summer sunshine flooded the streets and brought the tourists out in full force. Carolyn, who was feeling surprisingly well after an initial bout of morning sickness, was in the mood to shop and, as they peered in a row of windows, Marty cleared his throat. ‘Caro,’ he began.
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve been meaning to apologise for the last few days. I know it’s not been easy for you to put up with three Bailey men at once.’
Carolyn was about to say, no it bloody hasn’t been, but thought better of it. He was making an effort, and she knew just how hard it was for him to do that.
‘And I’d like to make it up to you.’
‘You would?’ She looked up at him and caught a smile so rare, it was like being given a gift.
‘I’d like to buy you something,’ he said, gesturing to the row of shops.
Carolyn bit her lip. She’d already seen half a dozen items she knew would look great in her wardrobe. ‘Marty –
thank you
!’
‘Is there anything you’ve seen?’
Carolyn smiled and nodded. She felt like a little girl again. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘As a matter of fact, there is.’
‘Where?’
Carolyn pointed to a shop they’d passed a couple of minutes ago and they retraced their steps.
‘There!’ she said, pointing to a divine floaty dress in summer-sky blue. ‘What do you think? Isn’t it beautiful?’
Marty nodded. ‘It’s lovely,’ he said.
‘Shall I try it on?’ Carolyn asked, her voice vibrating with excitement.
‘How much is it?’
‘We’ll find out after I’ve tried it on,’ she said.
‘Hang on a minute,’ Marty said suddenly, pointing to a little white plaque by the mannequins. ‘Are those the prices?’
Carolyn’s eyes followed his finger. She knew what was coming. Reality had kicked in and she was about to kiss the dress goodbye. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders.
‘That’s outrageous! I’ve never seen anything so ridiculous in my life!’
‘Marty – we’re in London. That’s what you pay for designer goods.’
‘It’s not what
I
pay! I’m sorry, Carolyn, but you must have confused me with a rich man.’
‘Then why did you say—?’
‘I’m
not
paying that for a silly piece of material. Look! There’s barely anything there! You couldn’t blow your nose
on it!’
Carolyn felt her shoulders slump and her anger swell. ‘Marty – you’re
impossible
! I just can’t believe you sometimes!’ she yelled, causing several heads to turn and a busker to stop busking. ‘And you were right – it’s not been easy being with you three men for the duration of the summer. It’s been an absolute nightmare if you must know.’
‘Caro!’
‘You’ve not considered me at all. You don’t know what’s going on with me, do you? Well, I’ve had enough. I’ve put up with this for long enough, and it’s got to stop.’
‘Hey!’ Marty shouted.
But it was too late: she’d already fled into the crowds and disappeared.
Tom looked at the front page of
Vive!
and grinned.
Molly
at
The Monument
. Beautifully simple and highly effective. But it wasn’t the only reason he was smiling. He’d been offered a permanent position at
Vive!
that morning. It would take some thinking about, though. It would mean moving house for a start and he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. He saw little enough of Flora as it was.
Maybe he should remain freelance. He had made a name for himself now and it would be easier to get work and he liked being his own boss. Not for one minute had he missed the claustrophobic atmosphere of life on the local rag. Still, he didn’t have to make his mind up today. He and Flora were going to enjoy themselves. A trip to Madame Tussauds, lunch at Planet Hollywood and a quick tour on a London bus before camping out at The Monument. That was the plan – until his phone rang.
‘Tom Mackenzie.’
‘Hello, Mr Mackenzie, I’m ringing from
City Beat
. Would you be available for a radio interview today?’
He looked down at Flora who was poring over a tourist guide and looking very excited.
‘As long as it doesn’t take too long,’ he said, watching their day together slowly ebbing away before his very eyes.
It was three hundred and eleven steps to the top of The Monument and Molly was thankful that Jo had come with her. She’d never have made it up to the top on her own with Fizz and her huge rucksack full of money and gerbera in tow. As it was, they had to keep resting, making sure they stopped at the tiny slit windows under the pretence that they were admiring the view of St Paul’s Cathedral and not because they were so unfit.
But, finally, they reached the top, and what a view greeted them. London was painted in the pearly blues and soft whites of summer. The River Thames winked gently as it stretched its way under Tower Bridge; and Canary Wharf, the Millennium Wheel, church spires, offices, cranes, cars, buses and boats all jostled for attention.
‘Wow!’ Jo yelled. ‘This is brilliant! You’re so clever, Molly! I can’t believe you’ve done this.’
‘Neither can I!’ Molly said, gazing down at the ground,
which was a dizzying distance below. She’d booked the whole place, making a one-off payment, and telling them that she was filming something. Luckily, no questions had been asked. The custodian obviously hadn’t seen a copy of
Vive!
.
‘There may be a few dozen extras showing up around seven o’clock,’ she’d said quickly. ‘But they’ll be remaining outside.’ The man had just nodded and taken her cash. In fact, she was surprised that there wasn’t anyone around when they’d turned up, but they had got there incredibly early.
‘I just hope we don’t need the toilet,’ Molly giggled. ‘We’ve got a long wait.’
‘At least it’s warm up here.’
Molly nodded. ‘Warm and still,’ she said, thinking of the disaster they might have had on their hands had it been windy.
Jo pulled out a couple of cushions she’d been carrying in her rucksack. They’d bought them that morning and now sat down and opened a couple of packs of sandwiches.
‘This is the weirdest holiday I’ve ever had,’ Jo said through a mouthful of lettuce and tomato.
‘Me too!’ Molly agreed. ‘And I can’t believe it’s nearly over.’
Jo stared at Molly. ‘What will you do?’
Molly pulled Fizz towards her and gave him a hug. ‘Go home, I guess. But it’s going to be so strange.’
‘What about Tom?’ Jo said suddenly. ‘Aren’t you going to see him? Oh, you’ve
got
to see him, Molly!’
Molly looked thoughtful for a moment, as if she was still trying to work that one out.
Jo grinned. ‘It would be a shame not to see him after all this, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m sure he’ll find you. He’s
probably somewhere down there right now.’
‘Yes,’ Molly said, not daring to peep over the railings to find out. ‘I have a feeling he is.’
Tom and Flora arrived at The Monument at half past six. Tom had hoped to get there earlier but, after the
City Beat
interview, he’d been waylaid by a few other phone calls which had cut into his day with Flora.
‘Good heavens!’ he said as he saw the number of people jostling round The Monument. ‘Don’t let go of my hand,’ he told Flora. ‘I don’t want a repeat of the British Museum here.’
‘Do you think she’s there?’ Flora asked, peering high into the sky.
‘Must be,’ Tom said. ‘If she arrived now, she’d have a bit of a fight to get through this crowd.’ Tom craned his head and gazed up at the golden flame on the top of The Monument, which was shining as if it really was fire. This is where it all began: the Great Fire of London. And this was where Molly’s journey was going to end. So where was she? Tom thought about trying to blag his way into the building but he knew his story would be at ground level. Anyway, he wanted to know what it would feel like to be one of Molly’s people.
‘Do you think she’s scared of heights?’ Flora asked.
‘I’d hope not,’ Tom said. ‘It’s an awful long way up.’
‘I wish I could see her,’ Flora said.
‘Yes,’ Tom said. ‘Me too.’
When Carolyn finally reached The Monument, she gasped. How on earth was she meant to find Marty in this crowd? Checking her watch, she saw that it was ten to seven. Marty was bound to be here, but where?
‘Marty?’ she called. ‘
Marty!
’ A few heads turned to look at her for a second.
She hadn’t made it back to the hotel in time to meet up with the Bailey men and it was going to be impossible to find them now.
‘Damn!’ she said, pulling out her mobile phone and tapping Marty’s number into it. ‘Marty? It’s Caro. Where are you? What? Oh! Yes, I can see that. OK. Don’t move. I’m on my way!’ She pushed her way through the crowd to find Marty. It was time he knew the truth.
‘Well?’ Jo said. ‘By my watch, it’s time to stick your head over the parapet!’
Molly nodded but didn’t say anything immediately.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jo asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Molly said. ‘I’m suddenly rather nervous.’
Jo flashed a big grin and bent forward to give Molly a hug. ‘This,’ she said, ‘is going to be brilliant.’
‘Brilliant’s rather scary, though, isn’t it?’
‘Of course! Everything worth having, and everything worth doing, usually scares the shit out of us!’
Molly smiled and suddenly they were both laughing.
‘Come on, then!’ Molly said, standing up and opening her rucksack. ‘Let’s give the crowds what they came for.’
‘It’s her!’ somebody shouted in front of Carolyn, and a huge roar went up, rippling and growing through the crowd until Carolyn’s ears trembled. She could see Marty now. He was only six or seven rows ahead of her.
‘Marty!’ she yelled. ‘
Marty!
’ Carolyn was pushed forward and crashed into his back.
‘Caro! Where have you been? We’ve been so worried.’
‘Where’s Magnus and Granddad?’
‘I managed to persuade them not to come. But why didn’t you meet us?’ he asked.
Before she could answer him, a great whoop sounded from the crowd. Carolyn looked up to the skies and saw a shower of money and sun-yellow gerbera raining down on them like confetti at a wedding.
‘Where is she? Can you see her?’ Carolyn asked, gazing up at The Monument, but they were almost at its base and couldn’t see Molly from their vantage point.
‘Jesus!’ Marty intoned. ‘They’re – they’re –
ten
-pound notes! Look! And fifties too!’
Carolyn watched in despair as Marty leapt into the air, arms flailing as he attempted to catch as many of the falling notes as he could. But Molly had it sussed. She was moving round the enclosed balcony like a clockwork figure, making sure that everyone got a fair crack at catching something.
‘Help me, Caro!’ Marty shouted in exasperation, pushing the people in front of him as the money fell from the top of The Monument. ‘Help me! We’ve got to get as much as we can!’
‘Marty!’ Carolyn shouted, but he didn’t seem to hear. ‘
Marty! Stop! Stop!
’
Marty stopped, a solitary ten-pound note in his hand.
‘It’s no use,’ Carolyn said, her voice quiet and subdued.
‘But we’ve got to try – for God’s sake – look at all this money –
wasted
!’
‘But it
isn’t
wasted. Don’t you get that? Just look at the joy on these people’s faces. Molly knows
exactly
what she’s doing.’
There was something in Carolyn’s voice that seemed to get through to Marty at last. She could see the change in his expression. First, he turned round to look at the crowd, watching their faces: each and every one filled with happiness. He looked up at The Monument. And then, he turned to look at Carolyn.
‘Don’t you see?’ she asked. ‘Just leave it.’ Carolyn felt tears welling up in her eyes and, for the first time in a long while, she didn’t bother to try and hide them from Marty.
‘Caro? I’m sorry,’ he said, stepping forward and placing his arms round her. ‘I’m sorry. What can I say?’
Carolyn pulled away. Had she heard him right? Or was he simply caught up in the madness of the moment? Was he just agreeing with her to stop her from causing a scene?
‘What can I say?’ he repeated, leaning forward and kissing her forehead.
‘You can say that you’re never going to behave like this again. That you’re going to stop making life miserable by counting every penny and scrimping and saving. That you’re going to start having a bit of fun and enjoying what we work so hard to earn,’ she finished, sniffing loudly and grabbing a crumpled tissue from out of her handbag.
‘Is that all?’ he asked, making a stab at humour.
‘No,’ Carolyn said. ‘I want you to promise that we can have a decent holiday with the money Molly’s given us.’
Marty’s forehead crinkled. ‘You mean Molly’s given us a cut of her winnings?’
Carolyn nodded. ‘Don’t go getting excited. It’s enough to pay off the mortgage and a bit more, but it’s not millions.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Marty asked, his eyes stretched in surprise.
‘Because I wasn’t sure how you’d react, and I wanted you to realise that there’s more to life – more to our relationship – than money, because it’s not going to be just us two for much longer.’
Marty’s mouth fell open. Despite the noise of the crowd, he’d heard Carolyn’s words as if she’d shouted them through a loudspeaker.
‘You mean you’re pregnant? You’re going to have a baby?’
‘
We’re
going to have a baby,’ Carolyn corrected.
‘Oh my God! How long have you known? When’s it due? Why didn’t you tell me?’ His words fell out of his mouth like broken teeth and Carolyn couldn’t help but smile.
‘I’ve not known long. It’s due in February, and I didn’t tell you because you’ve been so wrapped up in Molly.’
‘But that’s
why
I’ve been wrapped up!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That’s why I’ve been scrimping and saving and worrying – because we want a family! God almighty, Caro, didn’t you realise?
I worry!
I worry about the future, of us all having enough – I worry about—’
‘But there’s no need! We’ll manage! We always have, haven’t we?’
‘I know,’ Marty admitted, ‘but, when the time came, I didn’t want
you
to scrimp. I want you to have everything you need – no cutting the corners for once. I just want to be sure we’re all all right.’ He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I know I’ve not been the easiest of people to live with and I know I’ve made things tough on you, but it was only so that we’d have enough for when this happened.’
Carolyn wiped her eyes, blew her nose again, and smiled. ‘You know what I’ve always wanted—’ She stopped. She
wasn’t used to starting a sentence in front of Marty with those words.
‘What? Tell me? Name it and it’s yours!’
‘Well, it’s rather girly and silly, I know, but I’ve always wanted one of those big old-fashioned prams. You know – the ones with the big hood and silver handles.’ She looked at Marty. Was it her imagination or had he turned slightly green around the gills?
‘It’s yours!’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, Marty! I’m so excited!’
‘Anything else? You can have anything you want for this baby. Just as long as it isn’t twins. We’ll have to go easy on the spending if it’s twins.’
Carolyn grinned as a shade of old Marty peeped through. He’d never change completely, she thought, but at least he was moving in the right direction.
‘Caro!’ he said, his eyes suddenly very wide.
‘What?’
‘You’ve had your hair cut!’
‘I know!’ Carolyn’s hand flew up to her head. ‘Do you like it?’ she asked anxiously.
‘It’s – it’s so short!’ he stammered, momentarily lost for words. ‘It’s amazing! You should have done it years ago.’
Carolyn rolled her eyes but said nothing. She’d won, and that was enough.
‘Blimey!’ Jo cried. ‘That’s the lot. It’s all gone.’
Molly peered into the enormous rucksack and saw that Jo was right.
‘What do we do now?’ Jo asked.
‘Face the crowd, I guess!’
‘What if they want more?’ Jo asked, suddenly nervous.
‘There’s no more where that came from,’ Molly said. ‘They’ve had the lot.’
‘Well, I’m ready if you are,’ Jo said, fastening up the rucksack and flinging it over her shoulder.
With Fizz in her arms, Molly and Jo almost flew down the three hundred and eleven steps. As they reached the bottom, the ticket officer turned round and glared at her. ‘Is this something to do with this film of yours?’ he asked, his face pale and suspicious.
‘That’s right!’ Molly trilled, just a little out of breath.
‘Rather a lot of extras if you ask me. Must’ve cost a fortune!’
‘A fair bit,’ Molly said, ‘but worth every penny.’
One after the other, Molly and Jo pushed through the turnstile and walked out into the crowd.
‘
There
she is!’ someone yelled.
‘
Molleeeee!
’
‘Where’s the rest, Molly?’ a lady shouted.
‘Yeah! Got any more?’
‘It’s all gone!’ Molly shouted back, shaking her empty rucksack at them in case they doubted her.
‘
Molly!’
A wild, banshee scream filled her ears as a woman pushed through the crowd. Molly stood stock-still.
‘Molly!’ the woman cried again, flinging her arms around her neck and smothering her in hot kisses. ‘You’re a saint. I
love
you!’ the mad woman cried, strangling Molly with a passion until she felt sure she’d drown in affection. Molly coughed loudly and the woman released her grip, edging back
as far as the crowd would let her. ‘This country needs more people like you, Molly. It really does!’
‘Give us a kiss, Moll!’ a red-faced man in a pink-striped shirt shouted.
‘Molly – over here!’ a curly-haired pensioner shouted.
Cameras flashed at her, hands slapped her back. There was even a man selling ‘Molly Makes the World Go Round’ T-shirts. It was brilliant!
‘Three cheers for Molly Bailey!’ someone shouted from the sea of heads.
‘Hip-hip.’
‘Hooray!’
‘Hip-hip.’
‘Hooray!’
‘Hip-hip.’
‘
Hooooraaaay!
’
It was all so overwhelming. Molly felt tears pricking the back of her eyes as she scoured the faces of the crowd. Everybody seemed to be looking at her, waiting to see what she would do next. Indeed, Molly wasn’t quite sure herself. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.