Faith - Lesley Pearse [72]
‘I do, but in a way I’m glad he went, he’s got a far better life there, a lovely young wife now too, and a baby on the way. They are coming over next year for a month, which will be lovely.’
Stuart smiled. ‘So you’ll be a granny at last, that’s great. But getting back to the verdict in the trial, what did you think of it?’
‘I was, and still am, convinced of Laura’s innocence.’
‘You are!’ Stuart exclaimed in surprise.
‘Belle will tell you that’s because I’m losing my marbles,’ Lena said, leaning towards him in a conspiratorial manner. ‘But I knew Laura really well, almost as well as I knew Jackie. Yes, she lied about her family, she’d done a lot of things which perhaps she shouldn’t have, but I know she was not the conniving, uncaring and evil person the lawyers and newspapers made her out to be. But you know that, Stuart, you were in love with her.’
‘Yes, I was, Lena.’ Stuart sighed. ‘It is good to hear you stick up for her. You see, I went to see her in prison, and I believe she’s innocent too.’
Lena sat back in her chair and smiled. ‘That’s wonderful, and very big of you to put aside past hurts. But then, you always were a very balanced and fair-minded person, that’s why Frank and I liked you so much. Now, tell me how Laura is.’
‘Not the glamour puss she used to be,’ Stuart smiled wryly. ‘But she’s found some resources to keep herself sane in there and indeed she wrote to me after my visit and told me the whole story of her real childhood.’
‘Will you tell it to me?’
Once again a lump came up in his throat. It was astounding to him that this slight woman in her late seventies, who had had her happy life torn apart when she lost both her elder daughter and her beloved husband, still had the capacity to care about others.
‘I can read it to you,’ he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Lena looked at the wad of paper in his hand. ‘I’ll just put the flowers into a vase first,’ she said. ‘Would you like a top-up of your drink, or a cup of tea? I can make one, I’ve got my own kettle here.’
‘Tea would be good,’ Stuart said. ‘Drinking whisky in the afternoon is great if you’ve got nothing on later, but I’ve got to meet someone this evening.’
He watched as Lena bustled about finding a large vase and scissors to trim the flower stems and filling up her kettle, her movements swift and economic. He didn’t think she ought to be in this place surrounded by people waiting for death. She belonged the way she always used to, the matriarch at the very centre of not just her family, but all those other friends and friends of friends who gathered at Duke’s Avenue. He remembered how she would encourage people to talk as she hastily prepared a vast dish of shepherd’s pie or sausages and mash, how she always seemed to know exactly who had a problem they needed to share, or an issue they were troubled with.
By rights she should have had grandchildren running around her feet. She should be cosseted now by all those she’d helped so much with her ability to listen, her lack of bias or snobbery. And she should still have Frank by her side.
Life certainly wasn’t fair.
Once the flowers were arranged and placed on the table, Lena made the tea and came back to sit down opposite Stuart.
‘Right, let’s have it,’ she said in her typically direct manner.
It took Stuart some time to read Laura’s letter. There were five pages with small, neat writing on both sides of the paper, not one crossing-out or spelling mistake, and she’d told the story so vividly he could almost smell the damp and mould in the basement of Thornfield Road. As he finished he looked at Lena for her response. She was staring at her hands on her lap and a tear trickled down her cheek.
‘I suspected some of it,’ she said quietly. ‘Her Aunt Mabel never sounded real, more like a character invented by Agatha Christie. I thought that if she had really been that way Laura would have had better diction, and more sophisticated tastes. I noted too how wary she was of men, and how quickly and efficiently she did household chores, which isn’t usual for young girls