Faith - Lesley Pearse [79]
Stuart was shocked by the article. He found it hard to believe any mother would say such damning things about one of her children, even if they were true. But knowing that Sunday tabloids bent facts to create sensation, he decided to keep an open mind until he’d had it all confirmed or denied by Meggie.
He was fully prepared that the girl in the archives might come back saying that the reporter had no record of where Meggie lived, or even of June’s address. Even if he did have the information it was quite likely he’d say it was unethical to pass on an address, and that Stuart could write into the newspaper and ask that they forward his letter on to Meggie.
Yet to his surprise and delight the girl came back to him the following morning and gave him an address in Catford. ‘Mick said he doubted she would still be there,’ she said. ‘But maybe someone there will know where she’s moved to.’
Stuart decided to go straight over to Catford. Meggie would probably be at work, but he could at least ask around to discover whether she was still living there, and he was sure that by looking at the house from outside he’d get an idea of what she was like as a person.
Back in the seventies he’d worked in several of Jackie’s properties in Catford and neighbouring Lewisham. She used to search out and buy large dilapidated Victorian houses, gut them and convert them into self-contained flats which she then sold on. He had an image in his mind of Meggie living in a couple of rooms in one of the dreary terraces he knew abounded in that area; in fact he visualized her living in conditions only marginally better than her mother’s.
Yet when he got off the train at Catford Bridge, he found that Bargery Road was away from the area he knew, and part of a development built in Edwardian times for the respectable middle classes, with a mixture of semi-detached and terraced houses. Unlike neighbouring Lewisham, which had suffered a slide down the respectability slope through the post-war housing shortage when so many houses began to be let out for multiple occupation, this part of Catford appeared to have retained its refinement.
There were many trees in Bargery Road and the houses were attractive, with bay windows, and pointed eaves, and most had retained stained-glass door lights, tiled porches and other original features. A few were a little run down, but the majority were either substantial family homes, or flat conversions that were well maintained and looked as if they would be expensive to buy.
Stuart checked the address twice before he was sure he’d found the right house, for number 40 was one of the nicest houses in the road. Unlike many of the others where the front garden had been paved for off-street parking, this had a very pretty garden with trees, a tiny manicured lawn and beautiful flower beds. The front door was painted a glossy dark green with a highly polished brass lion’s-head knocker and letterbox.
Opening the wrought-iron gate, Stuart walked up a red brick path to the front door. He noted that there were voile blinds at all the sash windows, partially pulled down to show off the bottom edge trimmed with lace.
The bell rang in the distance, and a dog barked with it, rushing to the front door.
‘Get back in here, Lucy,’ he heard a woman call out, and the sound of a door closing as if she’d shut the dog in.
Stuart smoothed down his jacket and prepared himself to be rebuffed. He knew by the paintwork and the general care of the house that it had been this way for several years, and therefore Meggie might have only rented a room here for a while.
The moment the door was opened he knew immediately that the woman was Laura’s sister, for the similarity was striking. She was a fraction taller than Laura, perhaps five feet eight, and her hair was dark brown, cut in a sleek shoulder-length bob, but she was slender, with identical wide brown eyes and a generous, well-shaped mouth.
‘You are Meggie, aren’t you?’ he blurted out. He had rehearsed what he was going to say if the door was answered, but seeing Meggie