Faith - Lesley Pearse [193]
Stuart knew Goldsmith was right, but it was a warm, sunny day, the streets were full of people out enjoying themselves, the airport would be crammed with others flying off to sun-drenched beaches, and Laura was in prison.
He couldn’t imagine what it did to a person to be locked up for something they hadn’t done. She’d had two years of it, and he’d seen by her face as they parted yesterday that she didn’t really believe she would be acquitted. She wanted to. Perhaps while he and David were talking to her, telling her things they’d discovered, maybe she began to hope. But once the cell door closed on her and she was alone, or talking to all those other women in there who hadn’t got a prayer of getting out, she was bound to think the worst.
Stuart walked over to the window and looked out. There was a café opposite, with tables and chairs out on the pavement. Every one of them was taken. He could see three women with bulging carrier bags all around their table. They were close in age to Laura, smart, attractive women in elegant clothes, their bare legs and arms suntanned, sunglasses pushed back on to well-cared-for hair. They were laughing, really enjoying one another’s company, and he felt a pang of sorrow that Laura couldn’t have a day like theirs.
As he watched, a tall, slender woman with long dark hair walked down the pavement. She was wearing red shorts, a low-cut black top and flip-flops on her feet. She looked very much like Laura did when he first met her; there was a sort of golden glow about her, oozing sensuality and a sense of mischief. Suddenly she opened her arms wide and a huge smile spread across her face. Stuart glanced down the street and saw a dark-haired boy of about eight in a football strip running towards her.
As the boy reached her, she caught hold of him and swung him round, and Stuart felt his eyes fill with tears. He had seen Laura do that so often with Barney, though he’d been so much younger then than this boy. How did Laura live with that loss?
He vacuumed the carpet, cleaned the bathroom and even made David’s bed up again with clean sheets so it looked tidy. But all the while he was thinking of Laura, and suddenly he felt he had to do something to shake things up.
All this time he’d played by the rules. He’d accused no one, he hadn’t pointed out their shortcomings even while they bad-mouthed Laura, except for Roger. He’d listened and nodded, been sympathetic, even stroked a few egos. So maybe an appeal was in the bag now and he’d achieved his objective, but he’d feel a darn sight more satisfied if he could just undermine Charles’s security enough to get him really rattled.
It was just after twelve when he put an overnight bag in his car and drove off. He didn’t for one moment think that Belle would want him as a guest once he’d told her the contents of Jackie’s will, and he certainly didn’t want to stay there, but then the bag was just a ruse to get him through the door. He’d also put on a cream linen shirt and chinos that several women had told him he looked handsome in. It wouldn’t hurt to let Belle imagine for a few moments that he’d come with seduction on his mind.
The traffic was solid all the way out of Edinburgh, and almost at a standstill on the Forth Bridge. He expected that today would be the longest time ever to make the trip. He’d be lucky if he did it in two and a half hours.
Calder had offered to handle the bequests in the will, but Stuart had declined, not wanting him to make another penny from Jackie, and instead asked Goldsmith to appoint a suitable lawyer to do it. He knew perfectly well that he should leave the person chosen to contact each of the beneficiaries; Goldsmith certainly wouldn’t approve of Stuart informing Belle and Charles that they would be getting nothing. But as Stuart hadn’t actually been advised against it, he would plead ignorance.
Charles’s car wasn’t in the drive of Kirkmay House, and he saw Belle glance out of the drawing-room window as he drew up. She had the door open before he even reached the front