Read Online Faith by Lesley Pearse - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lesley Pearse
Tags: Fiction
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tee-shirts and even shell suits, many of them paunchy, tattooed and shaven-headed, he looked out of place.
He didn’t recognize her immediately, not until she fluttered her hand at him.
The shock in his eyes cut her to the quick, but he moved swiftly over to her table and embraced her.
Laura withdrew from his arms quickly and sat down. ‘You didn’t really think I’d still be a glamour girl?’ she said lightly, hiding her hurt. ‘But you, Stuart! You could have stepped out the pages of Hello! .’
He hid his confusion by saying he’d been thrown by her new hair colour as he’d seen some press photographs of her and she’d been blonde; then he quickly changed the subject by telling her he’d brought her cigarettes, shower gel, some books and sweets. ‘If you still don’t smoke, I’m sure you can trade them for other things you need,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But tell me how you are.’
The concern in his voice brought a lump to her throat, and she steeled herself not to give way to tears.
‘As well as can be expected,’ she replied, not daring to look right into his grey eyes. ‘I could do with a few long walks in the sunshine, some healthy food and more stimulating company, but I dare say I’ll adjust to living without that in time.’
He looked shaken and she wished she’d simply said she was fine.
‘A half-hour visit isn’t long enough when there’s so much ground to cover,’ he said, leaning closer to her across the table. ‘To speed things up I’ve done my homework and read up on the trial. But what I want to hear is your version of what happened the day Jackie died.’
Stuart had always been very direct, but it was a bit of a shock that he expected her to launch into her story without easing her into it gently by telling her his own reaction to the news, or even why he felt he had to visit her.
‘I didn’t kill her,’ she stated firmly. ‘She was already dead when I got over to Fife. I received a distressed phone call from her that morning and as I couldn’t get any real sense out of her I agreed I would go to her. Whoever killed her did it just a short while before I got there.’
Stuart nodded and opened a small notebook to consult what he’d written in it. ‘Then a man called Michael Fenton arrived. In his evidence he said that he had received a call from Belle.’
He looked puzzled that Jackie’s younger sister was also living in Scotland.
‘Belle and Charles came up to live in Fife back in ’81,’ Laura explained. ‘They’ve got a guest house in Crail, just a few miles from Brodie Farm, Jackie’s place.’
‘Right,’ Stuart said, but he still looked confused that the two sisters both ran guest houses just a few miles from each other. ‘So Jackie phoned Belle that morning and sounded distressed. Belle couldn’t go over there herself so she rang Fenton to ask him to pop in instead.’ He paused for a moment, looking at Laura quizzically. ‘I can’t imagine Belle and Charles running a guest house!’
Laura understood his surprise, for all his old memories of Belle and her husband Charles Howell must have been as sophisticated city dwellers. ‘I know it seems unlikely,’ she said. ‘I was amazed that they could leave London too. But I suppose Belle wanted to see more of Jackie, and it seemed like a good business opportunity. Also Charles has always been a golf fanatic, and with St Andrews so close by, that must have clinched it.’
Stuart nodded. ‘Okay. So Fenton found you by Jackie’s body and it was he who called the police. Is that correct?’
Laura didn’t answer immediately, for she was mentally reliving the events of 12 May 1993.
Few people passing Imelda’s, the pretty little clothes shop with its classy window displays and cream and gold interior in Edinburgh’s Morningside, realized it was in fact a second-hand clothes shop. Women brought in quality clothes they were tired of, and Laura sold them on, taking a 25 per cent commission.
It
He didn’t recognize her immediately, not until she fluttered her hand at him.
The shock in his eyes cut her to the quick, but he moved swiftly over to her table and embraced her.
Laura withdrew from his arms quickly and sat down. ‘You didn’t really think I’d still be a glamour girl?’ she said lightly, hiding her hurt. ‘But you, Stuart! You could have stepped out the pages of Hello! .’
He hid his confusion by saying he’d been thrown by her new hair colour as he’d seen some press photographs of her and she’d been blonde; then he quickly changed the subject by telling her he’d brought her cigarettes, shower gel, some books and sweets. ‘If you still don’t smoke, I’m sure you can trade them for other things you need,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But tell me how you are.’
The concern in his voice brought a lump to her throat, and she steeled herself not to give way to tears.
‘As well as can be expected,’ she replied, not daring to look right into his grey eyes. ‘I could do with a few long walks in the sunshine, some healthy food and more stimulating company, but I dare say I’ll adjust to living without that in time.’
He looked shaken and she wished she’d simply said she was fine.
‘A half-hour visit isn’t long enough when there’s so much ground to cover,’ he said, leaning closer to her across the table. ‘To speed things up I’ve done my homework and read up on the trial. But what I want to hear is your version of what happened the day Jackie died.’
Stuart had always been very direct, but it was a bit of a shock that he expected her to launch into her story without easing her into it gently by telling her his own reaction to the news, or even why he felt he had to visit her.
‘I didn’t kill her,’ she stated firmly. ‘She was already dead when I got over to Fife. I received a distressed phone call from her that morning and as I couldn’t get any real sense out of her I agreed I would go to her. Whoever killed her did it just a short while before I got there.’
Stuart nodded and opened a small notebook to consult what he’d written in it. ‘Then a man called Michael Fenton arrived. In his evidence he said that he had received a call from Belle.’
He looked puzzled that Jackie’s younger sister was also living in Scotland.
‘Belle and Charles came up to live in Fife back in ’81,’ Laura explained. ‘They’ve got a guest house in Crail, just a few miles from Brodie Farm, Jackie’s place.’
‘Right,’ Stuart said, but he still looked confused that the two sisters both ran guest houses just a few miles from each other. ‘So Jackie phoned Belle that morning and sounded distressed. Belle couldn’t go over there herself so she rang Fenton to ask him to pop in instead.’ He paused for a moment, looking at Laura quizzically. ‘I can’t imagine Belle and Charles running a guest house!’
Laura understood his surprise, for all his old memories of Belle and her husband Charles Howell must have been as sophisticated city dwellers. ‘I know it seems unlikely,’ she said. ‘I was amazed that they could leave London too. But I suppose Belle wanted to see more of Jackie, and it seemed like a good business opportunity. Also Charles has always been a golf fanatic, and with St Andrews so close by, that must have clinched it.’
Stuart nodded. ‘Okay. So Fenton found you by Jackie’s body and it was he who called the police. Is that correct?’
Laura didn’t answer immediately, for she was mentally reliving the events of 12 May 1993.
Few people passing Imelda’s, the pretty little clothes shop with its classy window displays and cream and gold interior in Edinburgh’s Morningside, realized it was in fact a second-hand clothes shop. Women brought in quality clothes they were tired of, and Laura sold them on, taking a 25 per cent commission.
It
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