As everyone knuckled down to their computer screens, Jack stared at the pile of four photos that Ridley had removed from the evidence board. Dolly’s picture was on top. Once again, he thought, the police had got it wrong. The women ticked all the same boxes as the army gang: they were physically strong enough if they used horses; they were gun-savvy because of Gloria; and they were definitely capable of facing off against a couple of male train guards and winning. These women had been surviving in a man’s world their entire lives. Underestimating them now would be Ridley’s downfall.

Julia held Suzie’s hand as they moved down to the edge of the river Dee and then east along the footpath toward the pre-arranged meeting place. Julia was walking at a brisk pace and Suzie was running to keep up, her second-hand Shawn Mendes rucksack bouncing up and down and rhythmically hitting her in the back of the head. Up ahead, Sam was dribbling a football around his backpack, which he’d thoughtlessly dropped without looking to see how muddy the ground was. The expanse of mud-free waste ground that he could have been playing on was currently empty. They were early.

“Where we going then?” Sam shouted, as soon as Julia came into view. “The beach, is it? I ain’t ever played football on sand!”

“Where’s Darren?” Julia was trying to remain calm.

Sam shrugged. He didn’t know or care where stupid Darren was and nor did Suzie, but Julia knew that he had no chance of surviving without her.

“Sam. A bus is arriving to pick us up, OK? There’ll be a black guy driving—that’s Rob. And Angela’s the one in charge, so you do exactly what she tells you, all right? I mean it, Sam! What did I say?”

“Black dude driving. Angela’s the boss. I got it.”

“Suzie, you don’t leave Sam’s side. You promise me.”

Suzie nodded frantically, as confused as she was excited. As Julia headed off to find Darren, Sam made Suzie drop her rucksack to make goalposts and then get in goal, so he could hammer the ball at her. All Julia could hear as she ran back up toward the house was, “Don’t kick it too hard, Sam. Sam, that’s too hard!”

What was she doing taking these three misfits on the bloody run with her?

Darren was cycling as fast as his legs could pedal, but the bike he was on wasn’t his and, with each push of the pedal, he wobbled and almost fell off. His rucksack was only over one shoulder, which wasn’t helping his balance at all. As soon as Julia saw him, she knew what he’d done—she was devastated. Darren had been going on about having a bike of his own for so long and now, with the prospect of going away, he’d bloody well stolen himself one! Darren looked up, saw Julia and, with all the pride in the world, he beamed the biggest smile, took both hands off the handlebars and waved in triumph.