Faith - Lesley Pearse [17]
So Laura covered for her by rushing home from school and running around the house picking things up, cleaning this, tidying that, and more often than not supervising whatever her mother was preparing for the dinner she would eat with Vincent later.
It was hard for Laura to understand what her mother found so difficult about cooking; after all, she was no longer on a tight budget and all she had to do was read a recipe book and follow the instructions. But perhaps she was intimidated because Vincent was used to more sophisticated food than she had ever eaten. She certainly seemed very afraid that he would find out her failings.
Vincent, it transpired, had two adult sons from whom he was estranged. They had parted company with him after their mother died, and Laura wondered if this was because Vincent had been unkind to her.
He did have a very hard streak. Back in September, when they were expecting Mark and Paul to be released from borstal, he had said point-blank that they couldn’t live at Grove House. He used the excuse that there was no room, but it was plain his real reason was that he knew sixteen-and seventeen-year-old boys were likely to be trouble. As it turned out he was right, because they were not released after all: they assaulted one of the staff and received another year. Yet if they had been released Vincent would gladly have seen them go to some kind of hostel.
Comparing life at Grove House to Thornfield Road, Laura often felt guilty that she wasn’t down on her knees thanking God for Vincent. It was wonderful to see the little ones so happy and confident, and Meggie and Ivy were doing really well at their new school. She loved seeing her mother looking pretty and not having to worry about money all the time.
Sometimes Laura thought her misgivings were just selfishness because she didn’t appear to have benefited as much from the move as everyone else. Even a brand-new uniform, no smell of damp and mould lingering about her, and a new stylish haircut hadn’t made the other girls at school like her any better. She wasn’t bullied as such any more, just ignored, and she hadn’t made any friends in Barnes because she went to a different school.
Yet her main worry, and it niggled away at her all the time, was Vincent. She always felt uneasy with him, though she found it difficult to explain why. He seemed to sit too close to her and she would catch him staring at her in a strange way. Perhaps if her father had been the sort who cuddled her and asked her to sit on his knee, she wouldn’t think anything of Vincent doing it, but it gave her the creeps.
He came into her room when she was doing her homework and leaned over her, he made comments about her developing figure, and several times he’d tried the bathroom door when she was in the bath.
She had attempted to talk about it to her mother, but June only got cross and said she should be grateful that Vincent showed her affection and wanted to be a father to her.
‘You’ve got to light the candles now,’ Meggie said, breaking into Laura’s reverie. ‘When you cut the cake, can I have one of the roses?’
‘Of course you can,’ Laura said. ‘We’ll all have one and leave one for Uncle Vincent for when he gets in from work.’
Meggie struck a match and lit the candles, and as they all burst into ‘Happy Birthday’, Laura looked round the table and smiled. Freddy was now three and a half, a chunky little boy with ruddy, plump cheeks, black hair and eyes full of mischief. Ivy was six, and her hair had turned mousey like Laura’s, but she had lovely big dark brown eyes. Meggie had changed the most since moving here; she’d lost her worried look, put on some weight, grown an inch or two, and her long hair was dark and silky, making her very pretty. As for her mother, she