Faith (45 page)

‘Why should I have to ask you for money?’ Laura threw back at her. ‘You aren’t my keeper. I’ve got the right to start up any business I like. I don’t need your charity or your opinion. And you had no right to come here uninvited and snoop around.’

‘Has it occurred to you that if you are caught making these films you might go to prison and you’d certainly have Barney taken from you?’ Jackie said heatedly. ‘Can you imagine what that would do to him? For God’s sake, Laura, pull yourself together and stop this right now. It’s wrong and you know it.’

That night after Jackie had given up ranting, when they’d both cried and Laura had seen how clean the flat was, the cupboards stocked with food that Jackie had bought, she really did intend to stop making the films.

She looked at Barney in the morning and saw that he’d shot up in height without her noticing. He now reached her shoulder and was clearly going to be tall like his father. The stockiness of his early years was gone too, and he was skinny now. He had a look of Greg, but without the big nose, and his dark eyes had a wisdom in them beyond his nine years.

She realized too that she hadn’t stopped to think about what subjects he was best at in school, and she’d never asked him if he had any idea what he wanted to be when he grew up. She hadn’t even been to school parent/teacher meetings to hear about his progress or problems. If she didn’t become a better mother he might go the way her older brothers had, raking the streets and getting into crime.

But for all her good intentions, it wasn’t that easy just to stop what she was doing. Katy and Tod depended on her, and Sid wanted more films, offering her a bigger percentage of the profits. She did find a reliable woman to come in and act as a housekeeper and childminder each day after school. She took all the films, photographs and other incriminating evidence of her work out of the flat and rented a small office in Glasgow. She also made sure there was never any coke in the flat, and that she spent all weekend with Barney. But she didn’t stop making the films, and the more money she made, the more she wanted.

Jackie was no fool, she knew Laura hadn’t given up making films, but on her next surprise visit when she found everything in order in Albany Street, and nothing dangerous or corrupting there, she seemed resigned to it. ‘I hate knowing you are involved in something like this,’ she said, shaking her head despairingly. ‘What is Barney going to think of you when he’s old enough to understand what you do?’

‘I won’t be doing it then,’ Laura said airily. ‘As soon as I’ve got enough money I’ll move into some legal business.’

‘Then at least let Barney come over to Fife with me during his school holidays,’ Jackie said. ‘He needs other kids to play with, fresh air and normality. And I want you to go to a solicitor and draw up a legal document so that if anything should happen to you, I get custody of him.’

Laura had mixed feelings about Jackie’s request. While she was happy to agree to Barney staying with her in the school holidays, and she could see the sense in having some contingency plan in the unlikely event of anything bad happening to her, she resented being policed. It seemed to her that Jackie had stopped being her friend and become her social worker. She didn’t confide in Laura any more, not about the trouble she was having conceiving a child of her own, or about her marriage. It was obvious from the amount of time she was spending in Fife that she had left Roger for good, but she didn’t admit it. And if she wouldn’t talk about her problems, Laura felt unable to talk about hers.

Robbie had moved into making blue movies too; it turned out that was why he’d closed down the old studio. He was not amused when Laura beat him at his own game. He’d telephoned her several rimes threatening to mark her for life because she’d poached people he wanted to work for him, and he’d called on Katy at home for the same end. Laura also suspected he was having her followed, and there was the distinct possibility he would grass her up to the police so they would raid her flat.

She knew Jackie wouldn’t be sympathetic about any of that, but she would have liked to confide in her about her torrid affair with Tod the photographer.

It had started out as a bit of fun, hot, steamy sex with no strings. But however much Laura had thought that was all she wanted, it turned out it wasn’t. Tod was married, so their affair had to be conducted mainly during the day, and six months down the line Laura was feeling bruised and used.

She scrutinized herself in the mirror and saw an extremely attractive woman who looked ten years younger than her real age of thirty-four, despite drinking too much, doing drugs and not eating well. Her figure was perfect, her hair shone, and everyone she met remarked how stylish and elegant she was.

She had everything she ever wanted – money, beautiful clothes, a nice home and a new car – yet she felt desperately alone. She didn’t understand how that could be, not when she was surrounded by people all day. It was that Stinky Wilmslow scenario all over again. She felt that no one really liked her for herself, only for what she could do for them.

More and more often she found herself thinking back to what she’d had with Stuart, the closeness, that all-enveloping love that made the world beautiful. Sex with Tod was very much like in the films they made, erotic perhaps, but never the magic carpet ride she’d known with Stuart. Afterwards, as Tod hastily put on his clothes and rushed off home, she felt so cheap. They never had time for a cup of tea together, a walk in the park or just a loving cuddle. Sometimes when she felt really low she thought he only made love to her to make sure she kept him on as cameraman. Even Katy, whom she had always thought of as a real friend, seemed only interested in the money they made together.

Laura and Barney spent Christmas of ’79 alone in Albany Street, but they saw the New Year in at Brodie Farm with Jackie. Roger was there too, and Frank and Lena had come up from London with Belle and Charles. The stables were still in the process of being converted into guest rooms, and with only two completely finished, it was a little crowded in the farmhouse, but that made it seem even cosier for everyone pitched in with cooking and tidying up. It was so good to see Lena, Frank and Belle again, like the old days at Muswell Hill. They played board games for Barney’s benefit, took long walks and ate huge meals, and at Jackie’s insistence Laura stayed on in Fife until after her thirty-fifth birthday in early January.

It was the first time in a very long while that Laura felt at peace. She was touched that Jackie never once said anything that might alert the others that she wasn’t running a promotions agency. Even Roger, who she knew had never liked her, had been pleasant. She was able to be herself, to enjoy seeing Barney so happy, and to laugh and chatter with the family as if she were a real member of it too.

Her memories of Barney during that period were some of the sharpest she had, so clear and vivid still they could have been just yesterday. Lena and Frank had bought him one of those leather flying hats with flaps that came down over his ears, and he wore it all the time. But he pretended to be Deputy Dog, the gormless character from the Disney cartoon, and mimicked his voice. At one point when all the adults were drinking he picked up a bottle of whisky and pretended to take a swig of it. ‘Darn fine moonshine,’ he said, staggering around as if he was drunk and making everyone laugh.

She remembered thinking that he would be ten in the spring, and how fleeting childhood was. Jackie and Belle were always saying what a little charmer he was, that he took such an interest in people, and cared about them. She realized then that he was the only thing in her life she could be really proud of.

Jackie came into her bedroom the night before she was due to leave to get Barney ready for school the following day. He was asleep in the other twin bed, and Jackie sat on Laura’s the way they used to do when they shared a flat.

‘It’s New Year and a time for new beginnings,’ she said, reaching out and smoothing Laura’s hair back from her face. ‘Roger and I are going to have one last attempt at saving our marriage, so I won’t be coming up here so much this year. Will you promise me you’ll behave yourself?’

There was so much affection and anxiety in her voice that a lump came up in Laura’s throat. ‘Of course I will,’ she replied. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl now.’

‘You could come back to London,’ Jackie suggested. ‘I could let you have one of my flats. You’d soon get a good job there and we could all help out with Barney. Mum and Belle both adore him.’

‘I belong here now,’ Laura said, though she wasn’t sure that was strictly true. She did love Scotland, especially away from the cities, and she often daydreamed of living by a loch in the Highlands, or on a river miles from anywhere. But it was only a daydream, there was no work in such places and maybe she was too much of a city girl to live anywhere else.

‘I feel I belong here too,’ Jackie said sadly. ‘Once I get all the guest rooms finished I’m going to try to get Roger to agree we live here all the time. But if he won’t agree, and I doubt that he will, how about you running everything up here for me? When Barney’s eleven he could go to that really good school in St Andrews. As long as I still had my room here to come up for holidays, you and Barney could have the rest of the house to yourselves.’

Laura had a sudden pang of conscience that she’d made one of her films here. Back then she hadn’t really seen why Jackie had been so set on buying the farm. But in the last few days she had come to understand. There was a feeling of utter peace here, you could stand outside the farmhouse and see for miles around, and the magnificence of such a huge landscape made her problems seem insignificant. Jackie had made the farmhouse so pretty and homely that no doubt the guest rooms in the stables would be equally lovely. Laura felt she could be the happiest woman in the world living here.

‘I’d like that,’ she said, and took Jackie’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I would look after it too. I’d treat your guests like royalty.’

‘Well, let’s keep that plan in our minds,’ Jackie said with a smile. ‘I’ll be back at Easter, and we’ll talk about it again when I come to get Barney. Who knows, I might even be pregnant by then!’

She made that last remark with such longing that Laura sat up straight in bed and reached out to hug her friend. ‘I hope so too. You’d make a wonderful mother. And if you are, I give you my word of honour I’ll give up what I’m doing for good.’

‘Would you?’ Jackie asked, her voice muffled in Laura’s shoulder.

‘Yes, of course I will. Aunts have to be above reproach, just like you are to Barney.’

Jackie disengaged herself from Laura. ‘In that case I’ll make sure Roger and I are at it like rabbits,’ she laughed. ‘I won’t lie there and think of England, but imagine you going straight.’

13

As David filled in his home address in the visitors’ book at Kirkmay House, he glanced sideways into the drawing room off the hall and noted the opulent furnishings.

‘What brings you to Fife, Mr Stoyle?’ Belle asked from just behind him.

David straightened up and turned to the attractive blonde. ‘I’ve got some business in St Andrews and I expect it will take a couple of days to wind up. May I let you know tomorrow if I’ll need to stay longer than two nights?’

Belle Howell was every bit as glamorous as Stuart had said. Her pale blue silk dress rustled seductively as she moved, diamonds twinkled in her ears, and she wore a heady, musky perfume. But her smile didn’t meet her beautiful blue eyes, and he’d got the distinct impression when he rang earlier and asked if she had a room free that she was reluctant to have any guests. It was only when he said he was alone that she agreed she had a room free.

‘That will be fine,’ she said. ‘Do you play golf?’

‘Not very well,’ he admitted. ‘Do you?’

She grimaced. ‘Certainly not. I think it’s the most tedious game in creation, and those outfits women golfers wear! But I’ll warn you now, my husband is a golf fiend, and he’s inclined to try to browbeat our guests into a game with him.’

David smiled. ‘He wouldn’t want to play with me. I’m actually useless at it, and I agree with you, it is tedious.’

‘So what sports do you like?’ she asked as she led him up the stairs to show him his room.

‘Sailing and climbing,’ he replied. ‘I also like talking to beautiful women.’

David wasn’t in the habit of saying such things, but he sensed that Belle was the type who was more likely to open up with flattery.

‘You won’t find many of those in Crail, Mr Stoyle,’ she said, turning, and her smile was a flirtatious one.

‘But I’ve found one right here in a guest house,’ he said, feeling himself blush. ‘And do call me David.’

‘I’m Belle,’ she said, as she opened a door at the front of the house. ‘And this is your room.’

‘A very pretty name, and it suits you,’ he said as he glanced around the room. He thought Julia would wince at the flower-strewn flouncy curtains, the quilt and the frill round the dressing table which all matched. ‘What a lovely room,’ he added because he was sure she expected it to be praised.

‘I pride myself on giving my guests the same comfort they have at home,’ she said rather pompously. ‘You’ll find tea- and coffee-making facilities inside the wardrobe. If there’s anything else you need, just ask.’

After Belle had gone back downstairs, David looked out of the window on to Crail’s leafy Marketgate. It was a grey, rather cold day, not the best weather to explore somewhere new, but he had already roamed through the narrow winding lanes down to the harbour and thought it was the prettiest little town he’d seen so far in Scotland. Its great age – the very oldest part down by the harbour was built in the twelfth century and even the relatively modern Marketgate was laid out in 1600 – gave it enormous character and a diverse variety of buildings. He could understand exactly why Jackie, Belle and Charles had been attracted to it, for it had none of the dour, grey Calvinistic quality he’d noted in other villages. Many of the cottages were painted in soft pastel colours and there were tubs of flowers beside almost every front door. The bigger houses with front gardens looked as if they were competing for a best-kept garden competition, and a glimpse inside open front doors revealed antique grandfather clocks and Persian rugs, proving that it had remained a prosperous town. He hadn’t spotted a single dilapidated house, but then he supposed developers jumped in quickly when any such place came on the market.