Faith - Lesley Pearse [59]
Years later she was able to look back and see that she wasn’t actually head over heels in love with Steven. She was just needy and desperate to be loved.
She hadn’t really been ready for a sexual relationship and once into it she felt she had to justify her enjoyment of it by building it up as true love. The fact that Steven didn’t ask her to marry him, or even say he loved her, always used a Durex when they made love, and only ever talked about his career when she asked him about his plans for the future, made her feel used and insecure. Because of this, she became jealous of everyone in his life.
She interrogated him about his old girlfriends; every woman he so much as glanced at was a threat; even a mention of the girls in the flat upstairs or his male friends was enough to make her sulk for hours.
When he left her alone in the flat she went through all his papers and things, looking for evidence of past affairs. She found a letter from his mother in which she urged him to be cautious because Laura was so young, and she threw a saucepan at him when he came in.
‘It’s just that kind of infantile behaviour my mother is afraid of,’ he retorted angrily. ‘How dare you read my letters? And why can’t you just be happy with what we’ve got?’
But Laura couldn’t be happy until he’d told her he loved her and asked her to marry him. And to achieve that end she resorted to telling him ridiculous lies. She would say that she’d fainted on the tube, that another girl had attacked her at work, anything to get him to say they must get married so he could look after her.
But her ploys didn’t work. All she saw was exasperation in his eyes, and she felt him withdrawing from her.
The last weekend in May he didn’t invite her over, but she went anyway. His face fell when he opened the door to her.
‘I wanted a weekend alone,’ he said stiffly.
‘But we always spend the weekends together,’ she said, and walked on past him, putting her overnight bag down and turning to kiss him.
He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her back from him. ‘I can’t do this any more,’ he sighed. ‘It was nice while it lasted, but you are too jealous and immature for me, Laura. Go home now. It’s over.’
She burst into tears, but that didn’t soften him. She begged him to let her cook him a meal, and said she’d clean up his flat which looked as though a bomb had hit it.
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘If I want a meal I can cook it, I can clean up too when I get sick of the mess. I made a big mistake with you. I realize now I just felt sorry for you because you have no family. But I can’t do it any more, you’ve taken over my life and I want it back.’
‘But you can’t end it,’ she exclaimed, feeling sick with fear. ‘I love you, Steven, you’re the only thing in my life.’
‘That’s part of the problem,’ he said, his face as cold as a January morning. ‘I’m sick of you depending on me for everything, you drain me dry. You don’t enjoy being with any of my friends, you don’t share any of my interests. All you want to do is play house, and keep me a prisoner in it.’
She argued that this wasn’t so, that his friends looked down on her, but he was barely listening.
‘Just go,’ he said irritably, ‘before I say something really hurtful. I want to go down the pub and talk to people who make me laugh. I do not want to spend another night listening to you wittering on about nothing and playing Little Girl Lost.’
She felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach, but she was sure she could change his mind if she could just think of something dramatic enough.
‘You can’t pack me in,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m having your baby.’
She expected that would at least make him stop short. She hoped it would make him cuddle her and promise he’d do the right thing by her. But instead his dark eves narrowed in distaste.
‘Liar!’ he exclaimed. ‘God, you’ve told me some whoppers in the past. But that one beats them all.’
‘I’m not lying,’ she retorted. ‘I’m about six or seven weeks gone.’
‘You