Faith - Lesley Pearse [56]
Roger gave both girls a glass of cider, and then, taking Jackie’s hand, he led her off to meet the other guests, while Laura tagged along behind. To be fair to Roger, he didn’t leave her out in his introductions, but everyone had posh voices, and the way they looked at Laura made her feel as if she was wearing no clothes at all. It didn’t help that all the light bulbs had been replaced with red ones, she supposed to try to create a more intimate atmosphere, and when she glanced in a mirror she was horrified to see it made her skimpy dress looked even brighter red and gave her bare shoulders and arms a sickly pallor. Worse still, she didn’t look sensational at all, only tarty, and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
Jackie was in her element. Not only was she dressed like everyone else, but she was well used to meeting all kinds of people at her parents’ parties. Within minutes she was chatting away to people as if she’d known them all her life.
Laura quickly downed her cider and turned to a blonde girl standing by her.
‘Do you live around here?’ she asked.
‘In the flat upstairs,’ the girl replied. ‘I share with them,’ she added, pointing out two girls who were dancing together. ‘And you?’
There was something about the crisp way the girl spoke which unnerved Laura still further. Despite her jeans and sweater, lack of makeup and hair that looked as if she’d just got out of bed, she was very pretty, with wide blue eyes, long lashes, and a plump, pouty mouth. Laura immediately felt she was’ competition and after Steven.
‘I have a flat in North London,’ she said trying to speak and sound like the other girl. ‘Jackie and I met Steven and Roger in the City after an office party at Christmas.’
‘Steven told me about you,’ the girl said. ‘But I didn’t expect you to be so young.’
Feeling she’d been slighted, Laura didn’t even attempt to carry on a conversation and went back to the bar to find Steven. But he was roaring with laughter at something one of a crowd of men around him was saying, so she just topped up her glass and drank it quickly.
Steven did come over to her several times during the evening, but he kept darting off to pour drinks and change records, and Laura became convinced that he wasn’t really interested in her, and she’d only been invited because Roger didn’t think Jackie would have come without her.
Each time she looked at them, they were kissing or dancing cheek to cheek, and it was quite obvious that Roger was totally smitten with her friend. So Laura kept topping up her glass with more cider and tried to hide her mounting panic that she wasn’t wanted by anyone.
By eleven the flat was so crowded with people that she could barely see Jackie amongst the dancers, and she couldn’t see Steven at all. All at once the room began to spin, and she realized she was going to be sick. When she found the bathroom occupied, she stumbled down the stairs out into the road.
After vomiting violently several times she sobered up, but chilled to the bone because she had no coat, desperate to go home but unable to unless she went back to the flat and got her coat and bag, which would mean she’d have to explain herself, she sat down on the front steps and began to cry.
A warm hand on her bare shoulder startled her. She looked up to see Steven looking down at her with real concern. ‘Laura! What on earth are you doing out here?’ he asked. ‘You’ll catch your death of cold.’
‘The cigarette smoke was making my eyes sting,’ she lied.
‘You’ll get pneumonia if you stay here,’ he said, and pulling his thick sweater off over his head, he popped it over hers. ‘Come in and sit on the stairs, it’s warmer there,’ he added, pulling her to her feet.
Once inside the hall, he took her hands between his and rubbed them. ‘I don’t think it’s the smoke that made your eyes run. You’ve been crying,’ he said reproachfully. ‘Why, Laura? Did you feel left out because I couldn’t be with you all evening?’
She felt warmer now with his jumper on, and his gentle tone made