Faith - Lesley Pearse [205]
By the next day the whole prison was buzzing with the news that the press had gone into an orgy of rehashing Jackie’s murder and Laura’s trial. Beady brought one newspaper in for her with a large photograph of Laura on the front page and a headline, ‘Has she been wronged?’
The press interest in Laura, and Belle’s arrival on the remand block, was the talk of the prison now. Laura found it quite amusing that all those who had so often scornfully disbelieved her protests that she was innocent were now sucking up to her. But rather more worrying was the general opinion among her fellow prisoners that she should get hold of Belle and wreak her revenge.
She did want to get hold of Belle, but not to attack her. She just wanted to know the truth. It was patently obvious that Belle had stabbed Stuart, and he wouldn’t have said she killed Jackie too unless he was certain of it, but Laura still couldn’t quite believe it. She wouldn’t until she heard it from Belle herself.
Nobody seemed to understand that, least of all Patrick Goldsmith who had merely shrugged and said that nothing was proved yet, but it would all come out eventually at her trial.
Laura couldn’t wait that long. She had been the person who found Jackie dead, she’d even pulled the knife out of her. And there had been times in the darkest moments while she’d been in this place when she’d begun to think she must have done it, but blanked it out, just as the police psychiatrist had suggested.
She had always thought of Belle as a younger sister, and as such she’d taken it in her stride when Belle was sometimes offhand with her. She did think it was unkind to banish her to stay at Brodie Farm just after Barney was killed, but she’d put that down to Belle being overwrought and not thinking straight. She had been nasty on several occasions after that too, but Laura had never had any inkling that Belle hated her. Yet she must have done if she would let her be wrongfully imprisoned for life. And that was what she wanted to know. Why she hated her.
There was no shortage of news about how Belle was faring in prison, but then even the most trivial piece of news passed along the grapevine at the speed of light. By all accounts she was fluctuating between hysteria and aggression, and treating her fellow prisoners as if they were subhuman and she was royalty. Someone said she got up one morning to find her hair was coming out in clumps. Laura had known alopecia strike other women here, but to Belle, whose appearance was everything, it must have been a cruel blow.
Laura was just putting a few returned books back on the shelves when she sensed everyone in the library stiffen. She turned to see that Belle had come in with Prison Officer Blake, whom Laura remembered well from her time on the remand block.
Belle looked awful; her hair was like a bird’s nest, and she had bald patches. She was pale and drawn, and the oversized trousers and shirt she was wearing clearly weren’t her own, for they were made of the kind of polyester fabric she would never wear.
She looked aghast at finding herself face to face with Laura. Clearly she hadn’t been warned that she worked in the library.
‘I don’t want any scenes, Brannigan,’ Blake said, her tone sharp and suspicious. ‘Howell just wants a book.’
Laura could hardly blame Blake for her attitude towards her – she had after all been a difficult prisoner while on remand. Yet she had a sneaky feeling that Blake had brought Belle here hoping for trouble.
‘I don’t do scenes any longer,’ Laura said icily. She didn’t like Blake – the woman had a very cruel streak, she enjoyed giving prisoners bad news and was well known for inciting trouble on her block by setting one woman against another. She walked up closer to Belle. ‘Hello, Belle, what kind